Page 237 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“Thank you,” he calls out, already ducking into the tent.

Dottie steps forward, holding out some sort of wind catcher with a large crystal hanging on the end. God only knows where she’s been keeping it. “I meant to hang this on the front porch earlier. It’s tourmaline, for luck. Why don’t you and Jace go hang it on the front porch, Mary? We’ll keep an eye on your dear boy.”

“Your son, she means,” Molly says, her eyes dancing now. “Not the other one. Jace is a very big boy. I think he can look after himself. If anyone else comes around, Dottie will dose them with tea.”

Cal’s father laughs, long and deep. “I expect there’s a story there.”

“You mean Cal hasn’t told you?” Molly asks, as if scandalized. “I’ve already told a dozen people. I even told Tina, and you know how serious her family is about Christmas togetherness. Her nonna disposes of phones at the door, but she’s wily. Shit. Tina is not going to be happy about me moving out.”

“She’ll get over it,” Cal says. “And I’ll admit my mind was elsewhere—sorry, Dad.”

They continue talking, Aidan still exploring his tent, but I take the wind catcher from Dottie, then grab Jace’s hand and lead him out. I can’t deny I want a moment alone with him, something Dottie must have realized.

We walk out in silence, hand in hand, as I take in this house that Jace helped Cal restore. My heart is full as we walk out the front door together.

“How are we supposed to hang that thing up?” Jace asks as we step outside.

I laugh. He’s right, there don’t appear to be any nails anywhere. “Maybe Dottie thinks you’re magic, or that construction guys carry around a toolbelt at all times.”

“Ihavebeen compared favorably to a magic wand,” he says, smiling down at me, his eyes carrying a dash of mischief.

“True. If anyone’s magic, I’m convinced it’s you, Jace Hagan. I never could have imagined any of this. I don’t think I dared to.”

Because it’s dangerous, feeling this happy. It makes you fear that someone’s going to swoop in and snatch it all away, but even if that happens—even if I lose everything—it will still have been worth it. Because living is always worth it. The fulfillment of letting yourself be yourself and finding other people who love you for you is so much more meaningful than the empty safety of a list lined with checks. (Of course, that’s not going to stop me from making lists; they’re very practical.)

He leans down and kisses me, a sweet kiss, telling me how much it means to him to be here with us, to be part of this loud,chaotic mess of a Christmas, and I deepen the kiss to tell him that I feel the same way. As we pull apart, looking into each other’s eyes, that’s when I spot it, a single nail, almost hidden against the haint blue paint of the overhang—perfect for Dottie’s charm.

“She knows everything,” I say in wonder as I point to it.

“Not quite everything.” He carries the wind catcher over and hangs it. “I’m reasonably sure she couldn’t have predicted everything that went down with Glenn the other night. And she doesn’t seem to have noticed that Cal’s father has taken a shine to her.”

“She will when she’s ready.” I know, because I did. Takes one to know one.

The wind catcher shines and spins in the afternoon light as a few snowflakes drift down, and is there anything more charming than a dusting of snow on Christmas? Even though I know it’s only a matter of time before Jack’s siblings show up, and even though I really did used to decry PDA, I pull Jace to me again, and I kiss him as the snow drifts down around us.

Santa Claus might not exist, but I think I can get behind this Christmas thing after all.

EPILOGUE

MARY

“I had high hopes for our threesome, but I’m too talented for my own good,” Nicole says. “Mary, you’re done. You don’t need me anymore. Your taste is much too conservative for your own good, and your man should really double down on the leather jacket look, but I can’t deny you’re happy. You’re no longer luck-challenged.”

“What?” I squawk. In a weird way, it feels like a rug has been pulled out from under me. I didn’t realize I’d come to depend on Nicole’s erratic presence in my life until now, when she’s suggesting she might take it away.

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist,” she says, twisting her nose ring a little for good measure. “We’ll still see each other. You’re coming toGrease.” It’s not a question.

“So why am I here?” Here being Tea of Fortune, which is not quite bustling yet, given it’s ten a.m. on New Year’s Day and most people are likely at home nursing hangovers. I’ll be honest, I have a bit of one myself. I allowed Tom and Ruth to take Aidan home for a visit this weekend, after a long, tearful conversation with Ruth, and Jace and I went to a dance-off downtown, joined by Molly and Cal (a self-described terrible dancer). He wasn’t wrong, but Jace has a natural talent for dancing—heeven suggested we take ballroom dancing lessons together at the studio!—and I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.

Tina’s working, technically, but there are so few people here, she’s basically just hanging out. She looks tired, which tracks with the fact that she just got back to Asheville last night after averylong drive with her brother, sister-in-law, and their two teenagers. Molly invited her to go dancing with us last night, but even though Tina is up for anything (her own self-description), she stayed in. I think maybe she’s disappointed that Molly’s moving out, although she hasn’t let it show. She’s a good friend, Tina, and I was looking forward to getting to know her better.

“Because Tina’s first challenge is to share her story with someone who’s judgmental and uptight,” Nicole says, rolling her eyes.

“Hey! I thought you said I was doing so well I had to graduate. That can’t be true if I’m still judgmental and uptight. Which is it?”

Nicole gives a genuine smile. “I got you to say you’re judgmental and uptight.”

“Man, I feel like I’m back home,” Tina says with a rueful grin. “You two sound like my mother and my nonna bickering about who gets the last piece of garlic bread. I think I’m the garlic bread. I can’t decide whether I’m annoyed or intrigued.”

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