Page 149 of The Holiday Hate-Off
“The DJ told us you were leaving, and someone saw youwalking toward the bridge. We wanted to make sure you didn’t jump off,” Charlie splutters as I scuttle past her.
“We wanted you to know you have a family here in Hideaway Harbor,” Eileen proclaims, her breath coming quickly too as we all try to capture the paper. “And that we love you, Lucy. Everyone was worried about you tonight. Several people came by to ask about you.”
Oh God, I want to hug her. To hug all of them. But Ineedthat paper.
“It’s my mom’s letter,” I gasp as Lars makes another grab for it—thwarted at the last moment, as if the paper’s teasing him. “The wind ripped it away from me while I was on the bridge.”
Something flashes in Eileen’s eyes, and she shouts, “Stop, Lars! We have to follow the letter, not try to capture it.”
“Eileen?” I blurt, whipping around to face her, hysteria bubbling inside me.
“It’s taking us somewhere,” she insists excitedly.
Enzo would think it’s complete bullshit.
He’d probably be right, but my heart is so bruised and aching that I want to believe. Ineedto believe.
Lars darts a questioning glance at me. I nod, and the four of us continue our pursuit as the paper flits along the street, almost hovering in the air.
It’s uncanny. A strange feeling comes over me, the same way it did on the bridge the night it snowed for me.
It’s as if my mother is speaking to me.
And then, when my legs are tired and sore, and my heart wants nothing more than to return home and sleep…that’s when it happens.
The letter gusts around a corner and slaps into someone, who reaches up to capture it with his hand.
It’s him.
It’s Enzo, wearing the Santa coat from that photo.
He came back to me.
And gathered behind him are the rest of the Cafieros.
I run to him, tears streaming down my face, and he captures me in his strong arms. And when he pulls me close, my face buried in his neck, I feel it.
I’m home.
“Oh, Lucia,” he says, his voice husky. He kisses the side of my face, then my lips when I turn them toward him. “Thank God. Thank God you’re here. I’ve had the craziest twenty-four hours. I’ve never needed anything like I needed to see you right now. We’ve been on the road for…I don’t even know how long, but Giovanni and Nico broke every traffic law to get here as soon as possible.”
“They still went too slow,” Nonna Francesca murmurs. “I thought I teach you to drive better than that.”
“Did you take the job?” I ask, needing him to tell me. To confirm what the flying letter has already seemed to say.
“No,” he says, then pauses. “Well…I guess I forgot to tell Martin I didn’t take it—I was too concerned about getting home to you—but I’m sure he got the message. This is my home, Lucia. Here with you.”
“You’re my home too,” I say, staring up into his eyes. Marveling at how far we’ve come.
“I love you,” he says as he stares into my eyes.
“I love you too,” I say, lifting up a hand to cradle his face, seeping in the goodness of this moment. He came home to me. He loves me. And my mom…
I’m convinced she would approve of him. Everything feels so good, so sweet.
I kiss him again, then draw away and say, “Now, who’s Barry, and why does he have your phone?”
“That little twerp’s the one who took it?” He shakes his head, laughing a little. “He’s Santa Claus.”
