• • •
When it got close to nine, I saw that Scotty was getting tired and knew how important it was that he get to bed at the regular time. Levi helped me with my coat, threw his on as well, and walked me to my car. Snowflakes were starting to fall.
“So what will you do for Christmas?” he asked. “Do you go to your mom’s?”
“Usually,” I said, shivering. “Ooh, it’s cold. But this year we’re going to a party at the winery where Skylar works on Christmas Eve, and then to my mom’s on Christmas Day for dinner. What about you? Heading up to Charlevoix?”
He nodded and wrapped his arms around me to keep me warm. “Yes,” he said, dropping a kiss on the tip of my nose. “And you are invited to come to brunch there on Christmas morning.”
“Really?”
He laughed. “I love how that lit you up.”
“Well, that’s exciting for me, to meet your family. I want you to meet mine, too. You and Scotty.”
“That would be nice,” he said.
“Could you…could you maybe stop by the winery on Christmas Eve?” I asked hopefully. “It would be so nice to see you that night.”
“I wish I could,” he said, “but I think my mother would kill me. Now you better go, before you get frostbite out here.”
“OK.” I tried not to feel too disappointed. Being invited to Christmas Day brunch was amazing, and I couldn’t wait to tell my sisters.
We kissed goodnight, and he opened the car door for me. “Drive carefully, OK? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“I will. I love you.”
He smiled. “I love you too.”
• • •
Life got a little hectic in the days before Christmas, and we didn’t get another chance to see each other before he had to leave for Charlevoix, although we spoke every day. He called me on his way up.
“Are you getting ready for the party?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, hunting around for the right earrings for my dress. “I wish you were coming with me.” It was our first Christmas Eve as a couple, and we had to spend it apart. I was trying not to feel sad about that.
“I know. I’m sorry. My mom is all insistent that Christmas Eve is for family.”
That made my heart ache a little. “I get it.”
“Well, listen. I better go. Roads aren’t great and it’s getting dark. You have fun tonight and call me in the morning when you’re heading out. You have directions and the address, right?”
“Yes. Drive carefully, please,” I begged, worried about him on the dark, snowy highways.
“I will. Love you. Merry Christmas.”
“Love you, too. Merry Christmas.”
I hung up and finished getting ready, trying to focus on all the good things in my life, not on how much I’d miss him tonight. But it was hard.
Christmas Eve was for family, his mother insisted. I didn’t disagree, and I loved my family fiercely. But I wanted him in it.
Was that crazy?
I set the phone down and smiled. Pulling off the white lie about tonight hadn’t been easy, since I was so bad at deception, but every time I thought about her face when she saw Scotty and me at the party tonight, it gave me the strength to keep up the act. At least she couldn’t see my face today, I thought, which hadn’t been straight at all during our conversation. It had been much harder the other night when I’d had to turn down her invitation in person.
I felt a twinge of guilt thinking about the comment I’d made regarding family but decided it would make her that much happier when she saw that family to me included everyone I loved most—and that meant her.
I hummed a holiday tune as I went to collect Scotty from his room for his shower. “Ready, bud?”
“Yes,” he said, putting his hands over his ears. “But Dad. Stop singing.”
I grinned. “You got it.”
• • •
“Where are you going?” he asked as I drove through the snowy dark up the highway on Old Mission peninsula.
“We are going to a Christmas party.”
“At Grandma’s house?”
“No, at a new place.”
“This is a snowstorm.” Worry made his voice shake a little.
“Don’t worry, I’m driving nice and slow, see? It’s not bad. And there will be treats there.” I’d double-checked with Sebastian that it was OK for Scotty and me to be there, and he said Skylar was thrilled and wouldn’t say a word to Jillian about it. I’d also asked about how many people would attend, and while he wasn’t positive, he didn’t think it would be more than thirty.
Miles had told him to let me know I should arrive by eight, so I tried to leave extra time for the drive, knowing the roads would be slow. We pulled up at the winery at about five to eight, and I felt exceedingly proud of myself for being on time. With a quick thank you, God for letting Scotty have a good day today, I got out of the car, took Scotty’s hand, and hustled up the front steps.
The winery looked beautiful, the tasting room decked with candles, white lights and holly, mistletoe hanging in every archway, and a huge evergreen tree in one corner, hung with French-themed ornaments and colored bulbs, a fleur-de-lis at the top. Instrumental carols played on hidden speakers, the wine flowed, and the food was delicious. Instead of tables and chairs, as there had been for the rehearsal dinner, the room was staged with cozy couches and chairs in conversational groupings to encourage mingling, but I noticed that the area in front of the fireplace had been cleared. Maybe they didn’t want anyone sitting too close to the fire, which crackled and popped, giving the room a warm glow.