Page 31 of Christmas with Holly

“I do, too. I’ve got one right here.”

After drawing her bath and putting a clean nightgown and towel on the closed lid of the toilet seat, Mark went downstairs. Sam had just finished putting the candy into a large Ziploc, and was straightening up the kitchen.

“So?” Mark asked gruffly. “Did you go into the shop?”

“About twenty of them. The town was crazy-busy.”

“Thetoy shop,” Mark said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, you’re asking about Maggie.” Sam reached into the fridge for a beer. “Yeah, she’s a hottie. And Holly’s crazy about her. She sat on the counter and helped Maggie hand out candy. I think she would’ve stayed there all night if I’d let her.” He paused, tilting back the beer. “But I’m not going to ask Maggie out.”

Mark watched him alertly. “Why not?”

“She gave me the Heisman.”

“The what?”

“You know—” Sam mimicked the outstretched blocking arm of the Heisman Trophy pose. “She was friendly, but not interested.”

“Well, she should be,” Mark said in annoyance. “You’re single, decent-looking…what’s her problem?”

Sam shrugged. “She’s a widow. Maybe she’s not finished grieving for her husband.”

“It’s time for her to be finished,” Mark said. “It’s been two years. She needs to start living again. She needs to take a chance on someone.”

“Like you?” Sam asked perceptively.

Mark shot him a dark glance. “I’m with Shelby.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Sam said with a quiet laugh. “Keep repeating it. Maybe at some point you’ll start believing it.”

Mark went upstairs, disgruntled. He told himself it wasn’t his business if or when Maggie started going out again. Why, then, did the situation bother him so much?

He found Holly in her room, dressed in her pink nightgown, waiting in bed for him to tuck her in. The bedside lamp was on, warm light glowing through the pink lampshade. Holly’s gaze was fixed on the pair of fairy wings, which were hanging on the back of a chair. Her fair ivory skin was dappled with red patches. Mark’s heart was wrenched with concern when he saw that her eyes were wet.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he pulled her up against him. “What is it?” he whispered. “What’s the matter?”

Holly’s voice was muffled. “I wish my mom could have seen me in my costume.”

Mark kissed her light hair and the delicate curve of her ear. And for a long time he just held her. “I miss her, too,” he finally said. “I think she’s watching over you, even though you can’t see or hear her.”

“Like an angel?”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe in angels?”

“Yes,” Mark said without hesitation, despite everything he had ever said or thought to the contrary. Because there was no reason for him not to allow for the possibility, especially if it comforted Holly.

Holly drew back to look at him. “I didn’t think you would.”

“I do,” Mark said. “Faith is a choice. I can believe in angels if I want to.”

“I believe in them, too.”

Mark smoothed her hair. “No one’s ever going to replace your mom. But I love you as much as she did, and I’ll always take care of you. And so will Sam.”

“And Uncle Alex.”

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