Page 43 of Dancing in Lake Mistletoe

“You’ve got a good eye,” Trixie interjects.

“Thanks. Maybe the holiday spirit of Lake Mistletoe is rubbing off on me.”

Norah considers me. “I think it is. You look different.”

“Different? How?” I ask.

“Happy,” she notes.

Am I happy? I didn’t think I was unhappy before. Sad after my breakup with Michael? Maybe. Definitely stressed. The never-ending fight to be noticed at ABT is the number one driving force in my life.

Lydia steps closer to the window. She adjusts one of the ribbons we hung, making it just a touch more symmetrical. “I’ve learned after years of living that unhappiness is a thief of time. What matters most is how something or someone makes us feel. Life is short and fleeting. We have to hold on to the things that make us happy.”

I look down at the ornament I’m holding, the shop’s lights reflected in its gold surface, and I wonder what it is I want. What would truly make me happy?

Before I can go too deep into my thoughts, the shop door swings open, and a gust of cold air rushes in. Dutch steps inside, his cheeks flushed from the wind, a lopsided grin on his face.

“You ladies making magic in here or what?” he asks, his voice carrying that playful tone as his gaze skates over his mother and Trixie, his brow lifting in question as it lands on me.

“More like turning the place into a winter wonderland,” Lydia says, stepping from the window to hug her son. “How do you think it looks?”

“Beautiful,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.

Lydia slaps his chest playfully. “I meant the display.”

He tilts his head, taking in the scene we’ve created. The garlands, the twinkling lights, the delicate ornaments catching the soft glow from the lamps. “I think it looks perfect,” he says.

“Well, I think that’s a wrap, ladies. Thank you so much for the help.”

“I guess we’ll head out then,” Norah declares, but Dutch grasps me by the arm.

Lydia catches the move and clears her throat, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll make you girls a to-go cup of tea. Norah, Trixie, why don’t you two help me?”

The three of them move to the counter, leaving me and Dutch alone. The silence between us feels different now, heavier, like there’s more to say, but neither of us knows where to start.

I pick up another ornament, trying to fill the space. “Your mom’s shop is nice.”

“She loves it,” Dutch says, stepping closer to me.

I nod, feeling the warmth of him standing next to me. “She’s really sweet. We had fun today.”

“She can be,” he replies, his voice teasing. “But she can be a ballbuster too.”

I hold his gaze, my heart picking up speed.

“Come over tonight. Josie and I are putting up the tree, and we could use your new talent,” he says, his eyes darting to the ornament in my hand.

“Okay.”

Maybe this is just a fling, but I’m starting to wish it were something more. As impossible as that would be.

Mindi

“Um, I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” I say as I hold Josie’s hand.

Dutch is unstrapping the tree we spent the last hour picking out before it was loaded onto his truck.

“It’ll fit,” he assures me. “Get the door.”

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