Page 213 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

Dottie claps her hands, her face alight with genuine excitement. “Donnall filled me in on the plans. You’re in store for a wonderful treat, Mary and Jace, and it beginsnow. The couple has elected to sing their vows.”

What?

Before I can process what she just said, Dottie steps aside, revealing an old-fashioned boom box, and presses play.

Everything becomes clear, or at least the slightest bit clearer, when the music for “Look at Me, Sandra Dee” starts streaming over the boom box.

We’re dressed up like the characters fromGrease. They’re having aGreasewedding.

The world already felt like it had been turned on its axis, and now I’m left with the knowledge that Nicole—fierce, volatile Nicole—is a fan of ’70s musicals.

Then again, doesn’t she work at a theater company?

Nicole starts belting out a familiar song in an off-key voice that she doesn’t seem the least bit self-conscious about. “Look at me…”

When she gets to the line about being legally wed, Damien leans forward and grabs one side of her sweater. For a moment, I worry he’s going to rip her clothes off and ravish her in front of everyone—could that be the surprise Dottie was so keen about? Surely evenDottiehas her limits—when the outfit tears off of her, revealing a skimpy all-black outfit that is much more suited to the Nicole I know and tolerate. She rips off her wig and throws it to me as if it’s a bouquet.

When I catch it, Dottie exclaims, “Oh, how serendipitous!”

The music has changed, revealing that they have, in fact, put some planning into all of this. The timing is too perfect for it to have been thrown together.

Damien starts singing about his chills multiplying, and my mouth drops open. I knew he was an actor. He and Nicole met and started their relationship at the theater, a foundation of questionable ethics, given she works in HR, but that’s beside the point. It’s a small theater in a town of less than a hundred thousand people. I didn’t think he’d be sogood. And then he starts dancing like John Travolta, and Nicole dances with him, belting out her lines as loudly and confidently as he does his, even though her voice is no match.

Neither of them cares. Neither of them has an ounce of self-consciousness.

They look so happy, so free that I feel my mood lifting with them, my worries about Jace, Glenn, and Aidan floating away for the moment.

I’m still watching their performance, mouth gaping with shock, when I feel a large, warm, familiar hand slipping over mine. Jace. He squeezes my hand and nods to the wig that I’m surprised to realize I’m still holding.

“You can probably drop that now,” he whispers. I do, then wipe my hand on the poodle skirt, only to realize it’s a vintageitem that probably hasn’t been washed. Oh, goodness, I put it on without even considering that.

He’s grinning at me, as if he knows exactly where my mind has gone, and squeezes my hand again. “I have hand sanitizer in the truck.”

We watch the rest of their show together, sides pressed against each other, and the warmth I feel—from their evident, indisputable love, from Jace, and from Dottie, who looks upon all of us like an approving mother hen.

When the song ends, Damien and Nicole approach Dottie, breathless, and all three of us—Dottie, me, and Jace—break into spontaneous applause.

There’s such joy in the moment, far more than was present at my wedding. My wedding was nothing like this. It was expensive, all white and silver and immaculately clean. But while I worry about the velvet curtains in this room, and I’m both glad and regretful there’s no black light I can use to investigate, Nicole and Damien’s wedding has something mine lacked: heart. I feel a shift within myself, as if a concrete slab is being shoved off my being, freeing me from the things that have held me back, from the fears and inadequacies and those nipping monsters of judgment. The feeling lingers as I hold Jace’s hand and watch Nicole and Damien agree to be each other’s partners.

True to Nicole’s word, Dottie pulls a Polaroid camera out of an ottoman and snaps a photo of them the moment after she declares them partners for life.

We sign the documents, which is the part we came to play after all, and Dottie hums with pleasure as she announces, “Now, I have a special treat for all of you.”

She’s practically buzzing with it, and Jace and I exchange an alarmed look as she slips out of the room.

Seemingly oblivious to Dottie’s antics, Nicole and Damien turn to us.

“Any notes for my performance?” Damien asks. “Notes?” I ask, confused.

“Greaseis up next at the theater,” Nicole says, slipping her hand onto his butt. “Damien’s a method actor, so we decided to kill two birds with one stone. He planned the wedding, and I planned the honeymoon.”

I nearly choke on my own spit. They decided to make it aGreasewedding because of a production at the theater?

Damien’s eyes sparkle when he looks at her. “You don’t want to admit it’s your favorite movie, do you?”

“Oh, shut up,” she says, and just like that they’re making out like they’re the only people in not just this room but the galaxy.

Jace and I exchange another look, and I whisper, “I can’t leave. She has my phone.”

---