Page 102 of Mistletoe and Mischief

“Bob Beldon. And then Teri Polgar. And Ted.”

“Bob from the B and B?” Kent looked up at her. “Did he want to speak to me?”

“No, no, he was inquiring about a puppy.”

“Oh, dear,” Danielle murmured and, for good measure, sneezed again.

Beth had assumed she would’ve taken one of her allergy pills by now.

“What did Ted want?” Sophie asked.

“He’ll be visiting later.”

Bailey and Sophie seemed gratified by this bit of news. “That’s wonderful,” Sophie said as Bailey nodded. “He’s a real sweetheart.”

“Oh?” Kent asked, turning to his daughters for an explanation.

“Yeah, he reminds me of the vet in those James Herriot books you read us when we were little,” Bailey told her father.

Ted? James Herriot? What were her girls up to? Beth sent Bailey a disapproving frown, which her daughter chose to ignore.

They resumed trimming the tree, and when they’d finished, it didn’t look half-bad. With its mismatched ornaments collected over the years, it had its own homespun charm. There was the wooden snowman Sophie had made at the age of ten. And a photo of Bailey in the first grade, framed in Popsicle sticks. Another that resembled a pincushion, which Sophie had made when she was in the third grade. Beth’s gingerbread men. And a few that she and the girls had constructed through the years with varying degrees of artistic skill.

They stepped back and, hardly aware she was doing it, Beth stood next to Kent. Delighted with their tree, she glanced up at him and smiled. He smiled back and their eyes met. Beth had to force herself to look away; when she did, she saw Danielle watching them both.

The other woman’s eyes narrowed, and Beth could tell that Danielle wasn’t pleased. Without making an issue of it, Beth moved away from Kent.

Searching for something to do, Beth picked up the empty cocoa mugs and carried them into the kitchen. She was busy placing them in the dishwasher when Danielle joined her.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danielle said without preamble. She rested her hip against the kitchen counter, crossed her arms and glared at Beth.

“Putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher?” Beth asked.

“You don’t like it that Kent brought me here.”

Beth straightened and leaned against the counter, too, crossing her own arms. “And what gives you that impression?”

“I saw the way you looked at him just now.”

“Really? And how was that?”

“You’re jealous.”

“Am I?” Beth asked, striving to sound anything but jealous.

“You want him back.”

Beth laughed. “In case you’ve forgotten, I had him for twenty-three years.”

“And you miss him.”

Beth faked a short laugh. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but let me assure you, you’re mistaken.”

“No, I’m not,” Danielle insisted.

Beth looked into the other room to make sure Kent and the girls couldn’t overhear this rather unpleasant conversation. “Well, then, let’s agree to disagree,” she suggested in a low voice, hoping to avoid a pointless exchange.

“You want him.”

---