Page 3 of The Mistletoe Makeover

“She fell off a ladder and broke her hip.”

With Doreen out of commission and the festival in free fall, the town is desperate.

I frown, suddenly feeling this weird tension of having to parent my mother. “You know the twins will not take care of you ifyoufall off a ladder.” My younger brothers play hockey and are gone so much, they probably couldn’t even keep a goldfish alive.

“Honestly, Mia, I need something to make me excited again.”

“Then get a puppy,” I suggest, trying to think of anything but letting my mom take on the town festival as chairwoman.

“I don’t want a puppy.”

“How about pickleball? Isn’t that what people do when they get older?”

In the background, I can hear Mom set her glass on the counter. “I’m not bored. I just don’t want this tradition to end. If we don’t do something, we won’t have the funds to continue. And a piece of Maplewood’s history will be gone.”

“Then let it go,” I say, not understanding why this is so important, when all I wanted as a kid was to stop the Christmas festival for good. It always felt like an unwelcome uncle in our house, an exhausting season that kept us from thinking too hard about the past.

“I can’t do that. I love this town,” Mom says. “And I love Christmas.”

While Maplewood celebrates Christmas in a boisterous, over-the-top way, all I’ve wanted is to stuff it into a bottle, tighten the lid, and toss it into the ocean. Compared to the effort she put into the festival, our own family celebration felt lackluster, like a second thought.

“Half the shops downtown are empty,” Mom says. “If you were here, you’d see how it’s gone downhill.”

I have to clamp my lips to keep from muttering something I’ll regret. It’s not that I don’t want to visit; the real question iswhat draw is there to coming home? A mom who’s too busy to even spend time with me?

“How in the world will you convince Jace Knight to do a concert in Maplewood when he could play Yankee Stadium?” As someone who used to plan events for big names, I don’t think they have a chance.

“Because Yankee Stadium doesn’t want him. Not after what happened with his ex-girlfriend. When they split, the media blamed him for the breakup. Then his new album tanked, and his record label cut short his concert tour. He’s returning home soon, and I’m guessing he needs something to bolster his career. Christmas is theperfectsolution.” Without even seeing her, I know Mom’s smiling at her clever idea.

I straighten a candle on the fireplace. “I thought you said he’s popular.”

“Waspopular. The last six months have been rocky. His manager said he’s willing to talk to us. Although he hasn’t actually asked Jace yet.”

It doesn’t sound hopeful. Definitely not something to stake the future of Maplewood on. “It’s not like Maplewood is a prime location. It’s a small town in the middle of Vermont.”

“We have something better than location. We have...” She pauses for effect. “Christmas spirit.”

I cringe. “That won’t convince him.” Jace Knight is even less likely to fall for it with this kind of pitch.

“Then what will? Bringing joy to the town? Christmas generosity?”

“Definitely not. Musicians are in it for the same reasons as everyone else. To make money. I don’t care if Christmas is involved.”

Unlike my mother, I stopped believing Christmas was a magical holiday that solved everyone’s problems. Instead, I realized I’d somehow been duped by every Hallmark holiday movie ever made.

Christmas wishes don’t come true. People don’t fall instantly in love. They don’t magically find happiness or angels or talking snowmen.

Maybe Jimmy Stewart did. But not my family.

“Mom, you actually need a marketing plan and some money, as well as someone who’s business-savvy enough to draw up a contract.”

Knowing the committee members, they’ll probably offer him a homemade pie.

She pauses. “Yes, that one missing piece is a problem.”

Never mind that I listed three. I thumb through the mail and toss two holiday catalogues in the recycle bin.

“I know the perfect person for this,” she says, her voice brightening.

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