Page 125 of My Favorite Holidate
We step back, the three of us, regarding it.
“You did it, Fable. It looks like home for the holidays,” Mac says, patting my arm proudly.
My heart glows with affection for this girl as I squeeze her shoulder. “No,wedid it.”
“We sure did,” she says.
Wilder stands next to her too, his arm wrapped around her, his hand touching mine on her shoulder.
This feels all too real too. All too possible. And entirely too wonderful.
It can’t last. It just can’t.
Except, what if it can?
“Let me take a picture of the tree,” Mac says as she fishes her cell phone from her pocket and snaps a shot of it, then looks to her dad then me with hope in her green eyes. “I want another one. Of the three of us.”
The three of us.
Those words lodge in my head and in my heart as Mac calls over Bibi.
In front of the tree, Wilder wraps one arm around me, the other around his daughter then lets out a soft, unguarded murmur.
Like he’s imagining all new things too. Like, the three of us.
My heart catches in my throat.
This is merely holiday magic, I try to tell myself. This is the cocoon of Christmas. The sparkle of falling snow making everything feel possible. But even so, everythingisstarting to feel possible.
Except…me liking eggnog. When the owner of the North Pole Nook wheels a red cart into the square with a chalkboard sign for eggnog, I cringe a little. But Mac wheels around to Wilder. “I love eggnog. Can I get some, Dad?”
He adopts a straight face. “Just one cup.”
“Thanks,” she says and rushes off to the cart, lining up right behind Charlotte to snag a cup of the holiday treat. The cart must catch Iris’s attention, too, since she and Brady trot over from their tree and line up right behind Mac.
I turn to Wilder and shrug. “She’s pretty much perfect in every other way.”
“It’s her only flaw.”
We take a moment to survey the other Christmas trees as the judges wander around checking each one, but something catches my attention at the eggnog stand once more. I jerk my gaze back over to the commotion.
The bride-to-be is clasping a hand over her mouth, like she’s shocked as she looks down at Brady, who’s kneeling on the snow. Looks like he was tying his boot. Only now, his head is covered in eggnog. “I’m so sorry,” my sister says loudly, holding an empty cup, like she’s so terribly contrite for her clumsiness.
I fight off a smile as I tug Wilder’s hand and we rush over to get a better look at the scene.
“I’m so very sorry,” she says again but I don’t detect an apologetic note in her voice.
“It’s fine,” Brady mutters, but there’s a hitch in his voice. Poor guy. He always did love his hair.
Wilder peers down at my ex. “Same, Brady. But good thing you and Iris are really, really good at cleaning up eggnog messes.”
Brady gulps, his eyes widening.Oh shitseems to flash in them.
Charlotte lifts her chin at her groom’s cousin, shooting death stares at him. “I bet you are.” She walks off to join the groom, who I suspect is none the wiser that his bride just delivered some unexpected payback for me.
A second later, Mac joins us empty-handed. “I lost my appetite for eggnog.”
“Perfect,”I mouth to Wilder.