Page 40 of One Golden Ring
My phone buzzes in my bag and I sneak a peek at it while he starts to explain. Someone in New York must have been living under a rock not to know that Derek is gone for the week.
Mandy
My sister’s name catches me by surprise—she normally texts instead of calling, but I guess it’s been a while since we had a nice chat.
“Darcy,” J.B. says. “No more working. Come listen to what’s going on today.”
I slide the phone back into my bag, figuring I can call Mandy tonight. It sounds like I’ll have plenty more to tell her after we do all the fun things Michael has planned for us today.
“Start over again, Great-grandpa,” J.B. tells him excitedly. “I want Darcy to hear.”
“Well, it’s a big day,” he tells us. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had off for the Mingle.”
“I’m so glad we can go today,” I tell him.
“Me too, sweetheart,” he tells me. “The day starts with the March of the Furry Angels.”
“That’s apet parade,” J.B. says, like it’s the greatest thing she’s ever heard of.
“A dog parade, really,” Derek adds.
“Then we have the Craft-mas Angel Gathering,” Michael goes on. “That’s where your father shines. He’s still famous around here for his works of art.”
“We had some good times doing that together, didn’t we?” Derek recalls with a fond smile.
“Ed Littlewolf still talks about the train and mountain we made that one year,” Michael says, his eyes twinkling just like his grandson’s do when he’s happy.
“You make a donation, and then you can use all the supplies you want to make Christmas ornaments for the town tree,” J.B. tells me. “Then what, Great-grandpa?”
“While that’s going on in the library, all the food vendors are out in the parking lot with tents,” Michael goes on. “You can feast to your heart’s content and it’s all for a good cause.”
“That sounds great,” I say, my mouth already watering at the idea of sampling more delicious local treats.
“And Santa is riding around in a horse drawn carriage,” J.B. says. “For the little kids.”
That last part comes out a little forlorn, like maybe J.B. wishes the carriage ride were also for mature thirteen-year-olds instead of just the little ones.
“And finally, the night ends up at the high school auditorium with the Host of Angels,” Michael tells us. “It’s kind of like a talent show and a sing-along all in one. Local bands, amateur singers, and the church choir all perform and the audience joins in whenever they feel the call. It’s beautiful.”
“Wow,” I say. “It sounds like a magical day.”
“Are you sure you’re up for all that?” Derek asks him quietly. “Maybe we should pick one or two things?”
“Nonsense,” Michael tells him. “I want to do it all.”
“In that case, your chariot awaits, good sir,” Derek says with a smile. “Unless you need breakfast first?”
“We’re going to eat Christmas doughnuts from the bakery, of course,” Michael tells him in a scandalized tone. “And Paula Littlewolf’s famous pumpkin bread.”
I sigh in pleasure at the thought. My mom used to make the best pumpkin bread and it’s always been one of my favorites.
“Yes,”J.B. says, while her father all but rolls his eyes at the rest of us for being so happy to eat sweets.
We get Michael bundled up and Derek takes his arm as we head down the porch steps to the parking area. Michael sits up front for the drive and J.B. regales me with a rundown of everything we’re going to eat and do.
Before I know it, Derek is pulling into the village and trying to hunt down a parking spot.
There are cars everywhere, and Celestial Lane is blocked off.
