Page 35 of Christmas Charms
Once Aidan reaches the top, the mayor of Owl Lake leads the final countdown to the moment when the lights will flash on. The shouts around me are earsplitting, echoing in the frosty night air.
10, 9, 8…
A shiver runs up and down my spine, and I’m not sure if it’s a shiver of anticipation or just the sentimental pride of knowing how much my Dad has contributed to this moment and to all the Christmases in Owl Lake’s future. All I know for certain is that I’m glad Aidan is the one putting the star on top of the tree tonight. It seems fitting somehow.
7, 6, 5…
Even Fruitcake gets in on the action, letting out a woof with each number.
4, 3, 2…
And in the final moment before the mayor flips the switch and I’m bathed in shimmering light, Aidan looks down. Sophie and Oliva squeal, Josh lets out a loud whoop, and Susan and my parents wave like crazy. Aidan’s gaze sweeps the crowd until his attention finally comes to rest on our little group, and I’m the one he’s looking at. Our eyes lock, and I can’t seem to breathe. I canfeelhis stare, every bit as real as if he were standing beside me and holding my hand.
1!
He’s so high up, balancing a star in his grasp, but by the way my pulse roars, it could be my heart resting solidly in his hands once again.
It’s not. I know it’s not, but as the lights come to life and Aidan places the star on the tiptop of the beautiful tree, he smiles at me. It’s a smile that lights up his entire face, and it feels like everything.
It feels like…
Magic.
Mission accomplished, Dad.I smile back at Aidan. Snowflakes catch in my eyelashes, but the thousands of glittering Christmas lights shining from the tree’s graceful branches warm my face.I’m happy.
And then, somewhere above the noise of the crowd, I hear the tinkling sound I’ve come to know all too well.
Jingle, jingle.
After the tree lighting, Susan invites me out for gingerbread lattes with her family. I’m consciously aware that Susan’s family includes Aidan, so I do my best to bow out. I’m still feeling distinctly floaty from the look that passed between us as he placed the star at the top of the tree, but I have no idea what it actually meant, if anything.
Maybe I simply imagined it. Or maybe it was quite literally the product of wishful thinking, brought to life by the magic bracelet. The jingle of the charms as the lights came on was unmistakable, and to be honest, the sound made my heart sink. I want Aidan to smile at me because he wants to, not because a vintage piece of jewelry somehow ordained it.
“I should probably get home,” I say, glancing at my parents and silently pleading with them to agree.
Clearly, they’re oblivious to my reluctance to join the Susan and her family on their quest for hot holiday beverages, because they urge me to go out with my friends and have a good time.
“Please come with us,” Olivia pleads. “Pleeeeeease.”
Even Fruitcake turns his melting brown eyes toward me. It’s hopeless. There’s no way I’m getting out of this.
“Okay, sure,” I relent. “So long as I’m not intruding.”
Susan rolls her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’re not.”
My parents hug me goodbye and within minutes, I’m seated in a comfortably worn leather booth at a cozy bistro called The Owl’s Nest. It sits directly opposite the Owl Lake Inn, overlooking the grand town Christmas tree on one side and the frost-covered frozen lake on the other. The lights from the majestic tree reflect off its icy surface, making the lake look like liquid gold.
“Sorry I’m late,” Aidan says as he joins us about fifteen minutes after our gingerbread lattes arrive. “I had to get the ladder truck back to the station.”
He presses gentle kisses to the tops of his nieces’ heads before taking a seat beside Josh, across from me. If he’s surprised by my presence, he hides it well.
“Hi, Ash.” He reaches for a drink menu.
“Hi.” I gesture toward the mug sitting in front of me, towering with whipped cream and a little gingerbread man cookie balanced on the rim at a jaunty angle. “Do you really need to look at the menu when you can order this sugar-laden work of art?”
“Point taken.” The corner of his mouth quirks into a half grin.
“Another gingerbread latte, coming right up,” the server says.
