Page 7 of Catching the Mistletoe

CHAPTER3

Arabella

The fire in the great room crackled, then popped, sending up a shower of sparks. It was loud enough to make me jump in my seat. The knots twisting in my stomach tightened a bit, and I forced myself to take a deep breath.Get a grip.

It had been three days since Genevieve had first talked to me about the offer she’d got for the Caravan of Christmas and holy fuck, so much had happened since then. I’d been practically bursting throughout dinner, but now that the moment was almost here, I felt a little queasy.

“Jesus, Bella, stop jittering. You’re making me nervous,” Genevieve whispered, shifting on the couch next to me.

“Sorry, I’m just...”

“I know. And I get it. But I’ve got it covered. We’re gonna go nice and slow, ease into it. Remember?”

Before I could reply, Noah came in from the kitchen, with Mom and Dad behind him. Genevieve shot me a reassuring smile before shifting to make room for Noah on the other side of her. Mom and Dad sat on the little sofa, watching us with questions in their eyes. All Genevieve had told them was they were invited to dinner, and that there was some big news to talk about. I twisted my fingers together, trying to temper my enthusiasm with a dose of reality. Genevieve was right. As much as I wanted to burst out with everything I felt about this incredible opportunity, I knew we had to be super careful about how we brought it up.

Genevieve cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention and I could feel the anticipation buzzing through me, a live wire sparking with every heartbeat.

“Okay,” Genevieve began, her voice calm and even. “I wanted to talk to you all about an opportunity that’s come up. It’s something... well, it’s quite big.” She glanced at Noah, who nodded, offering his quiet support.

“It’s about the ‘Chasing the Mistletoe show’,” Genevieve continued. “The producers reached out to us, me and Noah, a few days ago with an idea for a charity show.” I took a moment to admire how calm and in control she seemed. “It sounds really awesome, and it’s such a great cause, but we just feel that with our commitments here, we can’t make it work. I emailed back to let them know as much. They said they were disappointed, but understood.” She paused, rubbing her lips together. Noah reached over and linked his fingers with hers, letting her know he had her back. “Then they emailed again, to say they’re still very interested in having the project associated with Slow River Ranch and the Snow family.”

Dad leaned back in his chair, his expression curious but reserved. Mom, on the other hand, was already frowning, her protective instincts visibly gearing up.

“So they’ve suggested an alternative,” Genevieve added, her eyes flicking to me and she lost her nerve.

“What alternative?” Dad asked when she didn’t go on.

“They want Arabella to take the lead on this.” Annnnd she totally rushed it.

A momentary silence fell over all of us. Mom’s frown deepened, her eyes flickering between me and Genevieve. “I’m sorry, they want Bella to do what, exactly?” Mom’s voice was tight. Fuck. She didn’t even know what she was stressing about, but the strain was obvious already.

I swallowed, fighting the urge to jump in and blurt out all my thoughts.

“They want her to travel across the country, in an RV, delivering Christmas gifts to underprivileged children. It’s a big project, a lot of visibility, and a chance to do something really meaningful,” Genevieve explained, her tone gentle yet firm.

Yeah, no amount of gentle coaxing was gonna make a difference. Mom hated the idea. Straight out of the gate. “But Arabella, all that travel... and right now? Is that... is that wise?”

I looked at Dad, but his expression was unreadable. Great. No help from that quarter then.

I gritted my teeth, trying to bite back the weird sense of urgency that was bubbling inside me. Mom, with her furrowed brows and that all-too-familiar worried look, was like a dam holding back my flood of emotions. I could almost hear her silent questions, her fears echoing in my head. And it grated on me–the way she still saw me as that fragile, sick girl who needed protection. It was all too much. The dam broke.

“I get it’s a big deal, But I’m not a child anymore!” My voice cracked, the frustration I’d been trying to hold back spilling over. “You can’t cover me with bubble wrap forever!”

Mom recoiled, hurt flashing in her eyes. “Arabella, I’m just concerned. You’ve been through so much...”

I knew she meant well, but it felt like a leash, holding me back from the life I craved. “I know what I’ve been through, Mom. Better than anyone. But that’s exactly why I need to do this. I need to prove to myself that I’m more than my illness, more than your little girl who needs protecting.”

Her face fell, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Now I was upset too, for hurting her, but also because I really wanted her to support me on this. So I kept pushing. “I just want to live, Mom. Really live. Not just exist in this safety bubble, you all want to keep me in.”

Genevieve squeezed my hand and Dad put a comforting arm around Mom, trying to soothe her, but his eyes were on me. “Would I be right in assuming they don’t expect you to do this entire trek on your own?”

I dragged in a shaky breath. Because Dad’s question meant he wasn’t dismissing it outright. Now it was Noah’s turn. “You would be right, David. And they’ve even suggested someone.”

Mom folded her arms across her chest and pursed her lips. She was already gearing up to argue. “Who?”

“Mack.”

The wind whooshed right out of her sails at Noah’s reply. Because Mom fucking loved Mack. “How does he feel about it?”

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