Page 16 of Catching the Mistletoe

“Exactly!” I leaned into the camera, my eyes locking onto the lens as if I could see every viewer out there. “Hey guys, this isn’t just Mack’s and my journey; it’s everyone’s. So please, pitch in. Donate what you can—no amount is too small. Let’s make this aCaravan of Christmasthat no one will ever forget!”

The camera turned back to Lisa. “You heard it here first, folks. Get on board the Christmas Caravan and give what you can. Let’s keep these guys on the road for as long as possible, and make sure some very special kids get the Christmas they deserve.”

The camera man stopped recording and Lisa turned to me with a smile, drawing a deep, steadying breath. “Hell’s bells, love, you’re a natural! If you want a job after this is done, you go on and let me know.”

I laughed. “Will do.”

“So, are you two ready to see where you’ll be living for the next month? Wanna take a tour of your holiday home-on-wheels, as you called it?”

“Fuck yes!”

“Fantastic! Follow me,” Lisa led the way to the RV’s door. She pulled it open with a flourish, and the three of us stepped inside.

And oh my stars, it was like walking into a Christmas wonderland. I mean, if Santa had an RV, this would be it. The interior was decked out in holiday flair, from the red and green throw pillows to the twinkling fairy lights that adorned the cabinets.

Mack seemed to take it all in with a quiet kind of awe, his eyes lingering on the small faux fireplace that had been installed near the seating area.

I could see the wheels turning in his head, probably calculating how many miles we’d get per gallon with all this holiday spirit packed in.

“What are you thinking?”

He cleared his throat. “It’s a lotta Christmas”

With a laugh, Lisa gestured to the cozy setup. “As you can see, we’ve tried to make it as festive and homey as possible. You’ve got a fully stocked kitchenette, a bathroom, and a sleeping area in the back. The dining table converts to a bed, and I think so do the sofas.”

I was too entranced to even respond. I moved further into the RV, my fingers itching to touch everything, to confirm that this wasn’t some kind of insanely detailed dream.

“Evelyn and Sam will be here shortly, and then you can get on the road.”

“Can’t wait. Thank you.”

“No problem. Bye for now!”

“Bye.”

And she was gone, leaving me and Mack alone.

CHAPTER8

Mack

After Lisa had gone, the air inside the RV felt thick, heavy, pressing on my chest uncomfortably. Outside, the sounds of Pier 39 carried on—laughter, chatter, and the sea lions. Inside, it was just me and Arabella, standing in this Christmas cocoon on wheels.

Desperate to say something to break the tension, the bed at the back of the RV caught my eye. “You can take the big bed. I’ll sleep out here.”

Arabella’s reply was a snort and a roll of her eyes. “That’s fucking stupid.” She waved her hand dismissively. “You’ll obviously be much more comfortable in the big bed. I’m totally cool with sleeping here.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” I said, finally. “But if you change your mind, just say the word.”

She smiled, and I couldn’t escape the thought that the RV’s twinkling fairy lights had nothing on her. “Deal,” she said. “Now, where did they keep the marshmallows for hot cocoa? This is a Christmas caravan, after all.”

Before she had a chance to find the makings for cocoa, there was a knock on the RV door.

“Come in! It’s open!”

The door creaked open, and in walked Evelyn, with her striking purple hair and a warm, motherly vibe that was hard to resist. Her husband, Sam, was right behind her, bending to fit his long, lanky frame through the door.

“Oh, you guys! It’s so good to see you both again.”

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