Page 115 of The Mistletoe Makeover

She gives me a smile so wide, it makes my heart skip.“Before we decide anything else, let’s head to the festival,” Mia insists, grabbing her girlfriends’ hands and pulling them to the door, while the rest of us follow.

Cora discusses wedding dates, while Jaz begs to know what color she’s going to wear as a bridesmaid.

I already know where Mia’s headed before I even ask. She wants to show them the best view of Maplewood: the rooftop where we had our first kiss, the place where you can see everything more clearly.

Mia stops in the door and lets everyone go ahead of us. “Thank you for this,” she says, nodding toward her friends. “You gave me the second-best present ever.”

“Second?”

“You’re the first,” she says, reaching to wrap her arms around me.

“I could hardly consider myself deserving of your love if I didn’t at least try to make you happy. After all, I’m the one who dared you to find it.”

“And I’m the one who fell for you,” she adds.

“We both fell,” I correct her. I knew then that falling in love isn’t a onetime thing. It’s a forever kind of thing—something you do for a lifetime. “And I don’t want to stop.Ever.”

* * *

A few weeks later

Mia

“It’s time for the annual twelve days of Christmas singalong,” Brax announces, handing us each a red plastic wine goblet. Even though it’s New Year’s Eve and the night before our wedding, he’s wearing his ugly Christmas sweater with Darth Vader in a Santa hat. Although Mom wasn’t told it was ugly sweater night, we all showed up in our hideous outfits. It’s like someone threw Christmas in a mixer and spewed out our sweaters.

“Oof, this is gonna be bad,” I say to Jaz as Brax hands me a glass labeled with the first day of Christmas, which means I sing all twelve verses as a solo.

“Get Jace to help you,” Jaz says, elbowing me.

All of my friends are here for the wedding tomorrow: Jaz, Ella and her husband, Grant, Jack and Maeve—who left their kids to have a weekend alone—and Brendan, who came solo.

Along with Vale and Mom, we have eleven people, almost enough to cover all twelve verses.

Mom couldn’t resist the opportunity to throw a big party the night before as our rehearsal dinner. And because I’m so good at planning events during snowstorms, nobody is amazed that we’re currently getting a foot of snow dumped on our town.

We don’t know how the storm is going to affect tomorrow’s wedding plans, but as long as the minister shows up and our friends and family are there, we don’t care.

“It’s not even Christmas,” Vale complains as he’s given the “second day of Christmas” goblet.

“It’s New Year’s Eve,” Mom reminds him. “With the storm outside, it still feels like Christmas.” When Mom found the goblets in the attic while searching for old photos of me, she asked if it would be okay if we restarted this tradition, in memory of Dad. Knowing my complicated history, she wanted to respect my feelings. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I don’t have to let my past define my future. My happy memories can coexist with all the other mixed emotions.

Brax hands Jaz glass number four with a grin, while Jace takes five, so he can play up the “five golden rings” part.

“Your family does this every year?” Jaz asks me, watching as Brax hands out the goblets.

“We haven’t done this in ages, actually. When Dad lived here, we had this tradition of singing through “The Twelve Days of Christmas” as a family. It was Dad’s thing. But Mom says we need to embrace having a singer in the family now.”

Jaz laughs under her breath. “Your family is embracing all kinds of changes with you becoming the wife of a celebrity. Pretty soon, you’re going to be all over the magazines.”

“I will not be that girl,” I insist. “Jace is determined to keep as normal of a life as possible. Living here in Maplewood will help. Few people want to tromp through the woods to take pictures of us.”

From across the table, he winks at me, and my heart feels like the bubbles in a glass of champagne. After all this time, I will never get over that dimple.

Brax sits next to Jaz with glass number twelve and I point at his choice. “I see you saved yourself the last glass.”

He holds up the goblet in a toast. “Saving the best for last. And since you’re first, you get to start.”

I shoot Jace my most desperate look, and he gives me a smile of support. “You want me to sing along?”

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