Page 58 of No Business Like Snow Business

“So cheerful,” Harvey agreed, “but it gets better. Well, the gods resurrected Baldur, and Frigg was so happy that she declared mistletoe was a symbol of love, and vowed to kiss anyone who passed underneath it.”

“That’s a hell of a leap in logic. ‘Oh, this plant killed my son, but he got better, so now I’m a fan.’”

“Not many myths are logical,” Harvey said, wrinkling his nose. “Also, it probably makes more sense in the original Norse.”

“So mistletoe got recruited into Christmas celebrations.”

“History is just one big recycling plant. The Romans used to put wreaths on their doors and exchange gifts for Saturnalia. Wassailing, which was when people would go singing from house to house, predates Christianity, but it morphed into caroling. And of course Yule was an ancient celebration that had singing, feasting, and burning the Yule log. It’s all recycled and reinvented.”

“Does that take away the magic?” I asked him curiously.

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s the opposite. For thousands of years, way back to before history was even recorded, we’ve been telling each other that even in the middle of the dark winter, there’s light coming. Light, and hope, and joy, and a promise to love each other. I think it’s kind of amazing, actually.”

“Yeah,” I said, warming again. “It really is. But Christmas isn’t the most amazing thing about the town.”

Harvey widened his eyes, and I could see the moment he decided he was going to make a joke out of what I’d said. “It’s the fudge, isn’t it?”

“The fudge is amazing, but no. It’s you, Harvey. You’re the most amazing thing about Christmas Falls. I came here looking to find my missing uncle, telling myself I was doing it for the business, but you saw straight through me. You saw abetterme.”

“When you...” Harvey cleared his throat. “When I met you, I told myself I was going to help you get a Christmas miracle. I just didn’t know it’d be you staying in Christmas Falls.”

“I’m glad it is.”

“Me too,” he said. He reached out across the table and caught my hand in his. His smile was beautiful. “Me too.”

sixteen

HARVEY

Three weeks later

Christmas Day dawned brightly, the blanket of snow that gently overlaid Christmas Falls glittering in the day’s new light. I mean, I presumed. I didn’t actually see the dawn. I was curled up under Sterling’s comforter, dead to the world until Sterling woke me up with a hot chocolate.

He was wearing the ugly Christmas sweater-themed pajamas I’d bought him last week, which was a bold choice for a man who had actual fashion sense. But he wore them well. He was Sterling. He wore everything well.

“Hey, you,” he said, setting the mug of hot chocolate down on my bedside table. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” I said through a yawn.

“Merry Christmas,” he said again, smiling as though he liked the sound of the words even better the second time he said them. Then he crossed to the window and looked out onto the street. “It’s quiet out there today.”

Sterling’s new studio apartment was on the other side of Sugar Plum Park from downtown. It was in an old convertedwarehouse, and had large windows that overlooked the park. After all the activity of the last month, the week between Christmas Day and New Year’s Eve was a brief moment of respite when all the locals took care of our own celebrations before turning our focus back to the town’s visitors.

I climbed out of bed, yawning, and crossed the floor to the window. Sugar Plum Park was empty this morning of everything except snow and trees. It looked like a postcard.

Sterling kissed me, heedless of my morning breath, and I sighed happily and leaned against him and we watched the park for a while.

This felt like a little bit of breathing space too, in the whirlwind that was our relationship, and Sterling getting a place, and being introduced to all my friends, and Grandma’s friends (he was a hit at the quilting group) and Win and Kyle’s friends, and Kyle’s family.

“Drink your chocolate,” he said. “I’ll grab the first shower. We really have to get moving.”

“Why? What time is it?”

“Nine.”

So much for that breathing space.

I grabbed my hot chocolate and got to work on it while Sterling went and showered.

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