Page 20 of Moonlight Over Mistletoe
“What should I do?” asked Eleanor. When Vivian was in town and not spending Thanksgiving in Fairbanks with her daughter, Eleanor usually had dinner there. Otherwise, she would help at the local hospital, making dinner for staff and patients who couldn't spend the holiday with family.
“You should go,” Vivian said.
“I'm not sure. What about the hospital?”
Vivian dismissed her concern with a wave. “Help with prep, then head over to the Kringle’s' house for dinner.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It can be if you let it.”
Eleanor had her doubts.
“Thanksgiving is about community and giving thanks, which is what you do at the hospital, but it's also about friendships, old and new.”
“Other than you, I prefer my own company,” Eleanor insisted.
“Come on, Eleanor,” Vivian said. “You don't prefer it. You've merely created a self-imposed exile. Just look at how much happier you've been since working on the ballroom dance competition and putting yourself out there. And my goodness, El, read between the lines. They're inviting you because Christopher will be there.”
“Do you think so?” Eleanor couldn't help but smile at the thought of having dinner with Christopher.
“Absolutely, but even if he's not, go have fun. When was the last time you let yourself enjoy something without reservation?”
“I think it was in the nineties,” Eleanor joked, but sadly, it was close to the truth. Or at least it was until recently. Ballroom dancing reminded her of times when joy wasn't a stranger. But also, in the mix, were fresh memories from dancing in the woods and catching a fish with Christopher.
Vivian glared at her, awaiting an answer.
“Fine,” she acquiesced. “I'll go.”
***
Eleanor stepped onto Sadie and Martin's porch. Hesitation nipped at her resolve, but the soft glow of lights and the rustic nature of the log cabin drew her in. The rich aroma of roasting turkey and pumpkin spice enveloped her senses as she tapped the door knocker twice before it swung open fully.
“Welcome, Eleanor.” Sadie greeted her with a smile, pulling her into a hug that was surprisingly nice. The house's interior glowed with amber lights, and garlands of autumn leaves intertwined with twinkling fairy lights ran down the banister and over the fireplace.
“Thank you for having me,” Eleanor replied, her voice steadier than she felt as she handed over the bottle of wine she'd brought.
“Come in, come in,” Martin boomed from the living room, his grin infectious as he waved her over. “What can I get you to drink? Rosie made mulled wine, and we have soda, water, and beer.”
“The mulled wine sounds lovely,” Eleanor said, standing in the middle of the room like a fish out of water.
“Come sit by the fire with me,” Nora said. Eleanor gave her a smile, grateful to the girl for offering her a seat.
“A girl at school said you're going to teach ballroom dancing at the community center. I've always wanted to learn, so count me in,” Nora said.
“That's not exactly what I said. But maybe one day.”
Laughing at one of Jack's jokes, Rosie caught Eleanor's eye. Rosie tugged Jack over to join Nora and Eleanor. Jack tipped an imaginary hat in Eleanor's direction. “Glad you could make it, Eleanor,” he said.
Eleanor inwardly cringed from all the times she'd been rude to Jack. The man never seemed to take anything seriously, but she'd been wrong. He'd worked tirelessly to help Rosie create a massive moving candy sculpture for Valentine’s Day. It was the talk of the town, make that the county. She didn't deserve Jack's kindness, yet there it was.
“I was happy about the invitation,” Eleanor admitted, the words no doubt surprising Jack, but he hid it well.
The festive atmosphere was settling into Eleanor's bones when the front door opened, and she heard Christopher's voice, causing her heart to flutter. He entered the room wearing a red sweater, and with his white beard and perfectly Santaesque hair. Eleanor turned to Nora and said, “Please tell me he works as a mall Santa during the holidays. That level of similarity should not be wasted.”
Nora grinned, nodding her head. “Something like that.”
“Ah! I see I'm the last to arrive. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.” Christopher's booming voice enveloped the room, his positivity infectious.
