Page 6 of Moonlight Over Mistletoe
Not waiting for Stanley’s reaction, Eleanor turned back to face the front. She knew he'd be shocked, as typically they mocked people together.
Luckily, Mayor Evergreen took to the stage, ending any further chance of conversation.
“Here we go,” whispered Vivian.
Eleanor smiled and nodded despite thinking she might be sick. She'd poured her heart into that proposal, but what if the mayor's office hated it? What if she became the laughingstock of Mistletoe? She was about to get up to leave when the mayor began speaking.
“Good evening, everyone. Wow! Look at this turnout. What a town we have, eh? What a town!” The mayor took a moment to look across the crowd. “Now, let's get down to business, shall we?”
The audience applauded.
“So, after a week of studying all the fundraising ideas, we have selected three to help us reach our goal of renovating the town hall.” He took a sip of water. “The first is a crowdfunding option submitted by Matt Leclerc, our local tech wiz. I think this will be quite successful, especially if we can tap into the pockets of all the tourists who have graced our quaint town since becoming a Christmas-themed destination. Thank you, Matt, for your proposal.”
Cheers and applause came from the crowd.
“Next, we have a silent auction, and believe me, this isn't a small affair. Already, there are companies willing to make significant donations. The Mistletoe Inn and Spa have donated a couples weekend. Northern Bound Expeditions has donated two trips. One is a northern lights viewing weekend, and the other is a dog sled camping trip. Those are only a few of the local companies willing to make a difference. So a big thanks to Marshall and Ilene Hendrix for their idea and hard work at finding sponsors before the proposal was even accepted.”
Again, the audience clapped and cheered.
Eleanor relaxed. There was no way her idea was being chosen.
“And now, our third and final selection, something a little different, and something I think will liven up the long fall nights, a ballroom dancing competition!”
Eleanor's jaw dropped to the floor. Surely, she'd misheard.
“This proposal caught our attention because of its fun nature. It's something we can all participate in, and the person who submitted this believes that with her connections, we can have professional dancers compete as well. If it turns out half as good as the proposal, we are in for a treat, ladies and gentlemen, a real treat.”
“But I can't dance,” someone cried out.
“Then you should learn,” the mayor responded. “I'm sure there are dozens of YouTube videos out there.”
The crowd murmured in agreement.
“Who came up with such an idea?” someone shouted.
Eleanor's momentary elation was quickly replaced by panic. She hunched her shoulders, trying to make herself as small as possible. But a voice inside her, one that sounded suspiciously like Carl's, said, “Stand up, Ellie. It's your time to shine.”
With trembling hands, Eleanor slowly rose to her feet. “I did,” she said.
The gymnasium fell silent. All eyes turned to Eleanor, looks of disbelief etched on their faces. Eleanor felt her cheeks burning. “I used to teach ballroom dancing,” she explained. “With my late husband, Carl.”
Beside her, Vivian began clapping, and then everyone joined in.
Eleanor's heart raced, but not with fear. In fact, there arose a feeling she hadn't felt in years: determination.
But as Eleanor walked home that night, and the initial rush faded, a new worry crept in. “What have I gotten myself into?” she wondered aloud, her mind racing with potential disasters. It could be awful… or it could be marvelous, a little voice said. And for the first time in a long time, Eleanor chose to believe in the latter.
6
Thearomaofcheeseand tomato sauce wafted through Christopher’s kitchen as he carefully pulled a bubbling lasagna from the oven. Setting it on the counter, he wiped his brow with his hand. “Ho, ho, you’re looking mighty fine,” he murmured to the dish. This was Meridith’s recipe, and he’d done her proud.
Christopher glanced at the clock. The grandkids were to arrive soon. Each fall, he made dinner for his grandkids, most of whom were regional Santas, but there were also others who played equally critical, though less public-facing, roles. Tonight, he was hosting Martin, the Santa for the West Coast, along with his daughter Nora and one of Shelly’s sons, Jack, who lived in the same town as Martin.
Jack had struggled to find his place in the world, and, much to Christopher’s surprise, he’d found it working at the Snowflake Sugar Shop in Mistletoe. While Jack was loved by his family, he’d always felt out of place because his magic wasn’t Santa magic. Instead, he could manipulate snow, ice, and frost, but his true talent lay in chocolate. Christopher couldn’t imagine a life outside of the Kringle family business, but Jack was incredibly happy.
Right on time, the doorbell chimed, pulling him from his thoughts. He swung the door open. “Welcome, welcome.”
Nora wrapped him in a hug. “It smells awesome in here,” she said. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
