Page 34 of The Mistletoe Makeover

I laugh. “You must be hungry. Because this is the worst meal I’ve ever bought for someone.”

She sits at the lopsided table while I divide the food. Right now, whatever awkwardness was between us has quickly been extinguished by our hunger pains. It’s amazing how people can set aside their differences when they’re forced to survive.

As I inhale the cereal bar, my phone buzzes. “Looks like we’re getting out of here,” I tell her, turning my phone so she can see the text from a tow truck driver I called yesterday. “There’s a truck available to pull us out.”

“Oh...” she says. “That’s great.” Judging by her tone, she doesn’t sound as thrilled as I expected.

“I thought you’d be jumping up and down about not having to stay another minute here.”

“I am!” she says, but something sounds off. “I’m sure you want to get home.”

“I’m not planning on going home.” She looks up, puzzled, as I lean back on my elbows. “We’re going to Evergreen.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to, after what happened yesterday.”

I sit up. “I didn’t come all this way to stay at the Pine Paradise.”

Her eyes flick to the bed, like she’s remembering last night. “It was a terrible idea, anyway.” She scoops a bite from her yogurt cup.

Is she talking about what happened last night? Either way, I’m not about to get this far without going to Evergreen now. I need something to inspire me to write music again.

“Well, I’m not a quitter,” I tell her. “And you said I’m your ride or die. That means we’re headed to Evergreen.” I crumple my wrapper and shoot it toward the trash can, hoping I don’t regret this decision. The wrapper circles the rim and falls in.

When I glance over, there’s a spark in her eyes, like she’s questioning whether this is a good idea.

I have to believe it is.

* * *

Despite the snowstorm only a day before, the roads are passable, thanks to the plows having resumed early this morning.

But that’s not the reason my stomach is knotted up. Something else is bothering me, because it feels like I’m about to step off a cliff and plummet toward a cluster of sharp rocks.

Just around a curve, a sign for Evergreen appears, painted in red and green. “Is this it?” I ask, glancing at a few run-down houses, a gas station, and a dollar store. “Not very impressive. How long ago were you here?”

She hesitates. “Maybe fifteen years?”

“That long? Are you sure this place is as magical as you remember?”

“No, but things can only get better after yesterday, right?”

“That’s a very dangerous thing to say.”

As I follow the signs that point downtown, I finally turn onto Main Street and feel like I entered a portal to Bavaria. The entire street looks like an old-fashioned European town, decorated with candles, garland, and bright red ribbons. A giant Christmas tree that rivals the one in Rockefeller Center stands in the middle of town, shimmering with gold and silver bulbs.

I had pretty low expectations for this trip, but already this is looking more promising than the Pine Paradise Motel.

Since the snowstorm shut down the town, few visitors braved the roads today, which is a good sign. If I’m lucky, I can slip through town unnoticed.

“What do you think?” Mia asks, clapping her hands together. “I knew it was going to be wonderful.”

I glance at her. “I think you’re going to freeze.”

She self-consciously runs a hand through her hair. “I’ll be fine. I meant the town. Isn’t it amazing?” She looks like a kid visiting Cinderella’s castle.

I shrug, not wanting to show too much excitement. “It looks decent.”

“Justdecent?” she repeats. “Don’t you feel as if you’ve been transported to a small German village a hundred years ago?”

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