Page 87 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

Gran tugs open her door and scurries into the back. I step out into the cold open air and start toward the sidewalk.

Bonnie, in her long red pantsuit, black heels, and winter coat, waves at me. “What is she doing?” She points to where my gran is scrambling into the back of my car.

“She insisted you sit up by me.” I reach her side and slip my hand into hers. I tangle our fingers together, my body boosting with a high that only comes after touching Bonnie.

“Is this a tabling handhold or something else?” she says, her blue eyes twinkling up at me.

“Definitely a tabling hold. You can’t tellthe difference?”

She rocks her head from side to side. “It’s tricky.”

“They’re close,” I say with all the confidence in the world. “I know what you mean.”

She doesn’t pull away and I don’t let go. I know what we said. I know that we’re slowing things down, that we’re waiting, but I keep my hand in hers just the same. Because as Gran said, it’s show time. I’m allowed to touch her right now.

I walk her over to my hatchback and Gran sends me an approving nod as I help Bonnie into her seat.

The car is warm and snug compared to the frigid weather outside. The rose in Bonnie’s cheeks seems to ease with the warmer temperature of my vehicle.

“No Noel today?” Gran says.

“Oh, um, no. The symphony doesn’t allow even service dogs into the hall.” Bonnie looks a little anxious just saying the words. I already knew, and yet I want to do what I did yesterday—offer to stay home. Or call the hall and complain—is that even legal? Though she insisted that I not cause a fuss and that I not miss the family event because of her.

“Well, pish posh. Let’s sneak her in,” Gran says.

Bonnie chuckles. “Maybe Elliot will write them a polite but strongly worded note for me.”

“Har har. You’re so funny.” I will never live down the notes I left Bonnie.

Gran giggles in the back. “She is funny.” She gives Bonnie a small pat on the shoulder. “Well, you just hold Elliot’s hand all day. He’s kind of like a big, playful puppy.”

Bonnie laughs. “You’re right, May. I’ll do that.”

I pull from the lot, loving the Bonnie-and-Gran banter. I play along. “I can’t decide if I’m being attacked or not.”

“Let’s go withnot,” Bonnie says, slipping her hand back into mine. I had to let go of her to get inside the car. I wasn’t sure I’d get the chance to hold her again, at least not during the drive. But I am more than happy to drive left-handed.

The rest of my family is meeting us there. Without Noel, I decided that we’d drive separately, giving Bonnie a little break from the Eaton family and all their overbearing ways.

“How long has your family been going to this particular symphony?” Bonnie asks.

“Thirty-two years,” Gran says proudly. She loves the symphony.

“Wait. How old are you again?” Bonnie says to me.

“Twenty-eight.” A low chuckle fills my chest. “I’ve been going since I was twelve.” I give her a quick glance, then pull onto the highway.

“It’s my favorite Christmas tradition,” Gran says. “Next to our annual Christmas Eve party.”

“That’s right,” Bonnie says. “The last day of The Twelve Days of Mistletoe. Right?”

Gran sighs. “Right. How quick it’s gone.”

“Quick indeed,” Bonnie says, a small smirk on her lips as she peers over at me.

“The party is perfection,” Gran tells her. “You’ll need a dress?—”

“Oh,” Bonnie says, shifting in her seat.

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