Mistletoe Season by Michelle Major

CHAPTER TWELVE

BYTHETIMEFriday night came, Angi was running on adrenaline, caffeine and very little else. The week had been a whirlwind of activity.

The afternoon at the flower shop, she’d spent several hours helping Gabe with his grandmother’s vintage Christmas knickknacks and trimmings. He’d turned the shop’s sign to Closed, put on a classic holiday playlist, and they’d unloaded all of Iris’s decorations—from families of plastic snowmen to an original color wheel to boxes of tinsel—to transform In Bloom into a retro festive extravaganza.

Time had flown by in the blink of an eye. She’d gotten used to the hours dragging at the restaurant, a thought that left her unsettled and a little melancholy. Unpacking boxes of glass ornaments had brought back memories from when her dad used to close down the restaurant for a few days over Christmas and drive up the coast in the old minivan to visit her nonna in Connecticut.

She remembered her parents laughing and singing carols—alternating between English and Italian—while her brothers played on their Game Boys in the third row of the big Suburban. Angi loved to look out at the houses she could see from the interstate and draw designs on the car windows when they frosted over.

At that point, she couldn’t have imagined living anywhere other than Magnolia.

Sorrow lanced across her heart at the memories of how much her father had loved this time of year. She added one more item to the list of ways she was failing. She’d been so busy subtly resenting having to return to the restaurant full-time and the burden of taking care of her mother that she hadn’t considered how her mother was dealing with this first Christmas without her beloved husband. Angi missed her father and his calming presence in all of their lives.

She wished she could talk to her mom about her feelings, to share in their grief and also hopefully grow closer by looking to the future.

Unfortunately, the only future Bianca seemed to care about when it came to Angi was seeing her married. In that respect, her mother would be disappointed when Angi and Gabe broke up in the new year, as was the plan.

A plan she was quickly coming to detest.

“Everything looks beautiful,” her mother said. She came to stand next to Angi looking out the front window of Il Rigatone as shoppers began to crowd Main Street. The weather for the evening was perfect, with temperatures hovering in the midforties and clear skies that showed off a swath of stars above them. Angi had asked Malcolm if the town would cordon off the streets so that the shops could spread their displays onto the sidewalk and leave more room for pedestrian traffic.

The business owners and town council had loved the idea, so she, Gabe, Emma and Cam had brought folding tables that the inn used for wedding receptions and positioned them along the center of the street. Now people not only had more opportunity for shopping but also a place to gather in front of each shop or restaurant.

“Thanks, Mom.” Angi squeezed her mother’s shoulders. “Dad always loved this time of year. I remember how excited he got when out-of-town visitors would stop in, like he was the official Magnolia welcome committee.”

Her mother sighed. “It was hard for him when things slowed during the years of economic downturn, and not just because of trying to keep the business afloat. He missed talking to new people. I’m glad he understood, before his heart attack, that the restaurant was going to survive. I like to think it gave him a sense of peace in his final moments.”

“Oh, Mom.” Angi’s heart pinched as her mother’s voice cracked with emotion. “I know you miss him. I do, too.” There was something in her mother’s tone, a hint of painful acceptance. “Are you sure the restaurant is still your dream?”

Her mother broke away, swiping a hand across her cheek. “Why would you say that, Angela? Your father and I built this place together. It was his dream—our dream—from the start. Now the town is flourishing again and I should just give it up?”

“I’m not saying that.” Angi chose her words carefully, not wanting to upset her mother more than she already was. Especially not tonight when there was so much excitement in the air. “I was thinking about those holidays when we drove to Nonna’s house. I used to listen to you and Dad talking, and you were always planning for the future. For some distant day when you’d have time to travel. Remember how you wanted to take an Alaskan cruise? It got so bad that Luca bought you bear spray for your birthday as a joke. What about those plans?”

Her mother’s eyes went wide. “That was a different time. Yes, I had plans for when your father and I retired. But things changed. The restaurant struggled for several years, and your dad made some investments that...” She sighed. “Taking time off wasn’t an option when he was alive, and he worked so hard to bring the restaurant back from the brink of failure. When Dylan Scott threatened to shut us down, it was like a knife to the chest for your dad. Then things changed, but he didn’t get to see all of the success. I can’t just walk away from it.”

“Mom, working so hard is what killed him. I don’t want to see the same thing happen to you.” Angi didn’t mean to say the words out loud. Yes, she’d thought them countless times since her mother’s heart attack. There was no way she could bear the thought of losing both of her parents. But if her mother came back to the restaurant as she planned, how would Angi prevent the stress?

“That’s why I have you,” Bianca said, as if it were that simple.

Angi looked away, out to the street where Emma and Mariella happened to be walking by. She was supposed to go to the inn later for another round of prepping the food for a Sunday baby shower. Emma had installed a small-scale gourmet kitchen in the cottage she’d renovated that sat on the edge of the inn’s property, and Angi had been sneaking over late at night to manage her culinary duties.

She didn’t want to keep Emma or her guests awake, but she also couldn’t use her mother’s kitchen to test recipes for the upcoming weddings she was catering. Two events, two weeks in a row. The first was the Saturday before Christmas and the second would take place the following weekend just before the new year.

Of course, Bianca thought Angi was leaving at night to visit Gabe. How much different it would be to spend her nights in a handsome man’s warm bed being creative in a totally different way than with food? She nearly sighed at the thought.

“Yes,” Angi said, because how else could she respond? “You have me.”

Her mother frowned and studied her again. Angi pasted on a bright smile. “I’m going to head over to In Bloom to check out Iris’s reaction to the shop.”

At the end of the night, Mayor Grimes would announce the winner of the voting for the best-decorated shop. That winner would receive special ad placement on the town’s main website and social media sites for the remainder of the holiday season.

“I’ll see you there,” her mother said, glancing over her shoulder. “I want to check in with Dominic.”

“Mom, you’re supposed to be enjoying this night, as well. Not trying to come back to work.”

“Dom has been with us for over a decade.” Her mother tsked softly. “He’s a friend as well as an employee. I’m going to visit with my friend.”

Angi walked out of the restaurant and took a deep breath of the cool December air. She could smell the popcorn from the machine the hardware store had set up just outside its entrance and saw a line already forming in front of Sunnyside, where she knew Mary Ellen would be serving her famous hot chocolate and s’mores cookies.

There was a cheer to the air, an excitement that made Angi almost want to turn and run the other way. She didn’t want to dampen anyone’s spirits, and it was getting harder to keep up her energy on all fronts. Every moment she spent at the restaurant felt heavy, like the checked tablecloths were going to suffocate her with the weight of responsibility.

She pulled her jacket more tightly around her and commanded herself to get it together. Since returning to Magnolia and returning to work at the restaurant, she’d felt the silent judgment of the people she knew who thought she’d shamed her family by getting pregnant and coming back to her hometown. But in the past few weeks, she’d been on the receiving end of a new kind of respect. Part of it came from how she was helping her mom, but it also resulted from her ideas and stepping in for the Christmas on the Coast festival.

Carrie had set the bar high last year, but Angi was both balancing it and adding her own twist to things. She wasn’t sure why something as inconsequential as a few weeks of festive holiday fun meant so much, but they did.

With a deep, cleansing breath to rid herself of her melancholy, she headed across the street and toward the bakery. Mary Ellen always gave cookie samples, as well as chai tea latte shots during the holidays, and Angi figured the little liquid pick-me-up couldn’t hurt.

She’d only made it a few steps before she was wrapped in a warm hug from behind.

“This is amazing,” Emma said, resting her chin on Angi’s shoulder as she turned both of them so that they were facing the lit street, bustling with shoppers and small crowds of friends. “You are amazing.”

“Carrie did most of the work to set it up,” Angi answered automatically. It’s the line she’d been using all week whenever someone tried to compliment her. It didn’t feel right to take credit that shouldn’t belong to her.

Emma only hugged her harder. “This is me. I know better than anyone how many last-minute details there are to make an event like this look so effortless.”

“It does look good.” Angi sighed. “Maybe there’s one area of my life that isn’t falling to pieces.”

“We can find someone to help with the inn over the holidays,” Emma offered without hesitation. “Not as good as you, but—”

“No.” Angi turned to face her friend. It didn’t matter if she had to mainline caffeine for the next several weeks. She wasn’t giving up. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Fine isn’t good enough,” Emma said softly.

“It is for now, and tonight I’m amazing. Let’s get some sugar.”

“A quick stop at In Bloom first?” Emma asked. “I want to pick up a few sprigs of mistletoe for the inn. We have some honeymooners coming in this weekend, and I thought it would be a fun touch for them.”

“Sure,” Angi agreed, her gaze snagging on a group of kids she recognized from Andrew’s school as they headed toward the flower shop. Her son wasn’t among the group, but she saw the boy he’d fought earlier that week. The kid still had bruising under his eyes, a fact that made Angi wince. No doubt Johnny’s mom was regaling her friends with tales of the fatherless Guilardi boy who needed someone to rein him in.

“Still better than fine?” Emma asked with a sidelong glance.

Angi shook off thoughts of bullies and town gossips. Tonight was about a successful event. “Amazing,” she confirmed.

“Just like In Bloom.” Emma flashed a grin as they approached the shop, which was adorned with snow-flecked garland and bright red ornaments. “It looks like how my grandma used to decorate.” Her smile widened. “My grandma on my dad’s side anyway. My mom’s family always had professional people to take care of the holidays, but my Grammy did it all herself, just like this.”

“These are Iris’s original decorations.” Angi could see the people passing the shop pointing and smiling at the bright storefront. Although the kitschy vintage trimmings weren’t the traditional decorations someone would expect from a florist, they were unique and unexpected. Much like Gabe, she mused.

Her heart picked up speed as they entered the shop, which was as crowded as she’d ever seen it. In the center of a group of locals, Iris sat in a wheelchair that had been decorated with ribbon and boughs of holly. She wore a red sweater with three festive trees stitched on it, her silver hair pulled back into a neat chignon. She looked so joyful as she spoke to friends and customers. Behind the wheelchair, Gabe stood like a sentry, but even he seemed surprisingly relaxed.

“Hey, Mom,” Andrew called from where he stood next to a table of iced cookies from the bakery, a few crumbs dribbling from his mouth.

“Hi, Gabe’s mom,” the pint-size girl standing next to him shouted.

“Close your mouth when you chew, Violet.” Avery sidled over to Angi and Emma as she spoke to the girl. “Your stepmother is raising you with better manners than that.”

The girl gave Avery a big thumbs-up and continued to gaze at Andrew like he was her own personal superhero as she took another bite of cookie.

“She’s got sass for days,” Avery told Angi as Emma greeted a couple who Angi guessed were guests at the inn for the weekend. “It’s what I love best about her.”

“I’m guessing her stepmom has taught her that, as well.” Angi knew the little girl was Gray Atwell’s daughter from his first marriage, which made her Avery’s stepdaughter.

“I think she was born that way.” Avery grinned. “But I support it wholeheartedly, although remind me of that when our kids are teenagers. I might regret it then.”

“I can’t imagine Drew as a teenager.” Angi’s heart flipped at the thought of her boy at that age and then fluttered for a different reason as Gabe waved to her. There was no mistaking the warmth in his gaze, and it made her toes curl with pleasure.

“Andrew’s going to be a great teenager, I’m sure. Just like he was this week. It’s a bummer about the punishment, but I’ll tell you Violet has a regular case of hero worship at the moment.”

Angi turned to face Avery more fully. “What are you talking about?” She guessed it had something to do with the scene on the playground earlier that week, but she couldn’t imagine how Drew fighting another boy who teased him about his lack of a father could make him a hero to Avery’s girl.

“That stupid Johnny kid takes great pleasure in terrorizing the younger kids, but he’s sneaky about it. He’s got that whole Eddie Haskell vibe going with the teachers, so they don’t realize what a snake he is.”

She shook her head. “Gray has been coaching Violet on how to handle herself, but I think after Andrew stood up to him, the kid is going to think twice about picking on the other children again. And maybe the teachers will pay more attention, too.”

“I don’t condone fighting,” Angi said even as her mind whirled. Andrew had confessed the ugly comments the other boy made about him, but her son hadn’t mentioned other kids being involved. Was it possible she’d missed a key portion of the story?

“Oh, me neither.” Avery nodded and then shook her head as if unable to decide which side she fell on. “It shouldn’t have come to that, but Violet said Andrew did his best to first use his words to diffuse the situation. I don’t know why there are still these unwritten playground rules about not getting teachers involved. They wouldn’t stand for it, I’m sure. But that boy said awful things. Violet wouldn’t even share some of them, which makes me know they were bad. She did say that it wasn’t until Johnny pushed one of her classmates that Andrew stepped in.”

Avery wrinkled her nose. “I know fighting isn’t right, but your son defended not just himself but several kids who couldn’t stand up for themselves. I think he deserves a little hero worship at this point.” Her expression cleared as she gestured to some of the decorations. “You deserve a bit of worship, too. Not only have you been a lifesaver with Carrie out of commission, but you just about performed a miracle in this shop. Everyone is talking about it, and Iris is beyond thrilled.”

“Gabe did the bulk of the work,” Angi said immediately.

“You suck at taking compliments.” Avery was far blunter than Emma had been, but the message was the same.

“I’m coming to understand that.” Angi shrugged. “Thank you. I’ve been working my butt off this week, but it’s worth it.”

“Angela, come over here, dear.”

Angi started forward at Iris’s gentle command, and it was like the Red Sea parting as people cleared a path.

“I wanted to thank you,” the older woman said, reaching out to take Angi’s hands. “And not just for my gorgeous nails.”

Angi made a show of studying the older woman’s gnarled fingers. She’d stopped at Shady Acres earlier to give Iris a manicure that included cheery red polish and a paraffin massage from a kit she’d bought at the local drugstore.

After Gabe’s attention to her feet earlier in the week, Angi thought about Iris and how it must feel not to be touched by people other than for clinical purposes.

Not that Angi had a lot of physical attention paid to her, but even at the ripe old age of ten, Andrew would sometimes snuggle up on the couch to watch a movie and he always wanted a good-night kiss and hug from both his mom and his grandmother.

So Angi had spent an hour she didn’t really have massaging Iris’s hands and then painting both of their nails. She’d hoped it would make Iris feel special.

“Your nails are as festive as you tonight,” Angi told her. “Your grandson did an excellent job with the shop, as well.”

“With your help,” Iris said, glancing up at Gabe and then back to her. “The two of you make a wonderful team.”

Yes, they did, she thought. More than she would have liked.

“I was honored to help.” She squeezed Iris’s hands once more and stepped to the side, aware of everyone’s attention on her. Should she move closer to Gabe or keep her distance? She had to remind herself that they had a pretend relationship to maintain and her feelings weren’t supposed to be real.

Heat crept into her cheeks as she smiled at Gabe and moved closer to him. He studied her for a long moment, like he was as unsure as she was about how they should handle this very public moment. Then he took her hand and linked their fingers together. The touch both energized and grounded her.

“You’re under the mistletoe,” Iris said as she pointed toward the ceiling.

Angi glanced up to see a sprig of mistletoe dangling above the two of them. She should have realized it was there. After all, she’d helped to hang it and she’d delivered similar boughs to other stores along Main Street, spreading a bit of holiday cheer from In Bloom.

It had been nearly a week since he’d kissed her. All that time they’d spent together decorating, and he hadn’t made one move to draw her close.

The worst part was she’d wanted him to. Oh, how she’d wanted that. Even though it was stupid and pointless and would only lead to complications down the road. At least one of them was mindful of keeping their relationship on a level where it was only on display when it mattered. When they had something to prove.

Which Gabe apparently did now because he released her hand and lifted both of his to cup her face. His gaze was the color of an angry sea tonight, proof that his mood was just as stormy.

“You can’t argue with mistletoe,” he said with a secret half smile, and then he pressed his lips to hers. It was as if the people in the store disappeared in an instant and only the two of them remained. Angi couldn’t have focused on anything else if she’d tried. Gabe took over—his touch an assault on her senses. His mouth was warm and gentle. He didn’t go overboard with the kiss, but it was more than a simple peck. It was a kiss that gave a message, and the message was clear enough in Angi’s mind.

Mine.

He ended the kiss too soon—it was just for show, after all—and Angi locked her jelly knees before she did something stupid like stumble into him.

“Blame it on the mistletoe,” someone called out, and Gabe offered a smile that looked suspiciously like one of a cat who’d just feasted on the canary.

Angi forced a breezy laugh, then turned away to talk to some of the locals she knew in the store. After a few minutes of fielding questions about her mom’s health and the plans for the holiday dance, which apparently was already generating great interest within the community, she excused herself and made her way to where Andrew still stood near the cookie table, Violet Atwell glued to his side.

She thought about the details Avery had shared regarding the circumstances of Drew’s fight at school. Why hadn’t he told her those specifics? Would it have mattered?

“I only ate two cookies,” he announced as if he knew she was coming to admonish him. The universal role of a mother—setter of limits, destroyer of fun. Angi had never had the option of taking a break from that duty. There was no one else to step in.

She wondered if she’d feel so much pressure to be on all the time if Andrew’s father was in the picture. If she had someone to share the responsibility—the endless worry of parenting.

Giving his shoulder a tiny squeeze, she smiled at Violet. “I bet if you and Violet head over to the restaurant, Nonna will find the extra wedding cookies for you. Dom made a special batch for tonight.”

“They’re even better than the ones from the bakery,” Andrew told his new friend, clearly enjoying the idol worship he was receiving from her.

“I’ll ask Avery,” Violet said, then disappeared through the crowd.

“So you know Violet from school?” Angi asked, picking up a corner of a cookie that had broken off and popping it into her mouth.

Andrew nodded. “She’s not a baby or anything.”

“She seems to like you a lot.”

Andrew looked up, his big brown eyes clearly conveying a “duh” sort of message.

“I heard the situation with that boy earlier in the week involved a couple of the kids from Violet’s class.”

“Johnny is a butthead,” Drew muttered.

“You can’t use that word.”

“Nonna calls him that.”

Angi hid her smile. “I’m telling your grandmother the same thing.”

“You kissed Gabe.”

She blinked. Should have seen that one coming. “It was the mistletoe,” she explained. “It’s tradition. I’m sorry if it upset you, sweetie. I—”

“I like Gabe,” he told her. “It’s weird to see him smile so much.”

Angi followed her son’s gaze to the front of the shop where Gabe was ringing up a purchase and, indeed, smiling at the customer.

“It’s a nice smile,” she said, more to herself than Andrew.

“Yuck.” The boy made a face. “That’s so mushy.”

“I’m not mushy.” She bent down and tickled his belly. “You’re mushy.”

His laughter rang out, a balm to her weary soul. It had been too long since she’d heard him laugh.

Maybe this night could be a new start. Hope bloomed like a delicate flower in the shadowy corners of her heart. Was tonight’s success proof that Angi was on the right track and taking the first step toward living up to the potential she believed she possessed? And what would the next few weeks bring?