Page 65 of Fa-La-La-La Faking It
Adaline stood on the front steps of Bluebonnet Chapel and gazed up at the starry Christmas Eve sky.
All her closest family and friends were already inside, milling about the lobby where, just days ago, Jace had slipped into a Santa suit and wormed his way even further into her heart. He’d only been playing a part, but in doing so, she’d gotten to know another side of the real him.
If someone had told Adaline that she’d fall in love over the holidays with a man she’d only been pretending to care about, she never would’ve believed them. And yet...
Here she was, head over heels for Jace Martin, hoping and praying that he’d show up in time to stand by her side while her brother married her best friend.
It was ridiculous, really. They’d already said their goodbyes, and Jace wasn’t even in Bluebonnet anymore. There was zero chance he was going to come swooping in at the last minute like Santa in his magic sleigh.
She blamed Santa for this entire mess, actually. Well, maybe not him specifically, since he was a fictional character and not a real human being. But she definitely blamed theideaof him.
When Adaline was a child, she put cookies and milk out every Christmas Eve and believed with her whole heart that Santa would come down the chimney and leave something special for her under the tree. Lo and behold, he did...every single year. He ate the chocolate chip cookies she baked for him in her Easy-Bake Oven. He left her the exact Barbie doll she’d wanted and the pink Barbie cupcake café with the movable mixer and teeny, tiny plastic cupcakes that she liked to arrange on Barbie’s three-tiered cake stands. He even sent answers to the letters she sent every year to the North Pole via Gram, who swore she’d mailed them with special “elf express stamps.”
Like kids all over the world, Adaline adored Santa. Then, one confusing and devastating day, she’d found out he wasn’t real. He’dneverbeen real, even though her entire life she’d been taught that if she truly believed, Santa wouldn’t forget her come Christmas morning.
Was it really so surprising that she’d accidentally lost herself again while dabbling in Christmas make-believe? She and Jace had been playing pretend, and all the while, the little girl who’d put out cookies and milk for Santa still lived deep inside her heart. And that little girl still wanted to believe. No matter how many times Adaline tried to tell her that Christmas magic wasn’t real and it had all just been a big game of pretend, she refused to give up hope.
He’s not coming, she told herself once and for all.He already made that abundantly clear. You can go back inside the chapel now.
Her feet stubbornly stayed put.
To add insult to injury, they were stylishly clad in silver glitter pumps with dainty crystal butterflies perched on each toe. Adaline had bought the stilettos a few days ago when she and the Comfort Paws girls had been Christmas shopping at the outlet mall near Austin.
She’d taken one look at them in the window of the Jimmy Choo outlet store, and she’d been instantly transfixed. The second Belle sidled up next to her, she’d cooed, “Oooh, look at those. They look just like glass slippers.” Adaline had never plunked down her credit card so fast for a purchase in all her life.
They were supposed to be her Cinderella shoes—the sparkly stilettos she’d wear at midnight when she broke the last rule of all and told Jace she wanted to make things real.
That wouldn’t happen now, obviously. She’d worn them anyway, because how could she not? Shoes that beautiful deserved to be seen, and they weren’t exactly practical for baking pies or walking Fuzzy.
“Adaline, what are you doing out here, dear?” Gram tugged her fringed shawl more firmly around her shoulders and stepped through the wooden double doors of the chapel. “The wedding is going to start soon.”
“Not for another half hour. Come chat with me for a minute. It’s a lovely night, and we’ve still got time,” Adaline said.
Maple was running this show with the same sort of precision she used to plan her surgical schedule at the pet clinic. Everything was organized down to the very last second. At precisely 10:07 p.m., Adaline knew to hide in the bathroom because that’s when Maple would be tossing her bridal bouquet.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere inside.” Gram reached out to cup Adaline’s cheek. “I just saw the wedding cake.”
Adaline’s grandmother looked beautiful tonight. She’d had her hair done by the stylist who volunteered at the senior center once a week, and it was twisted into a smooth chignon held in place with pearl-tipped bobby pins. Her dress was made of a light, airy chiffon that made her look like a Christmas angel. But the most enchanting thing about her wasn’t her hair or the pretty new dress. Rather, it was the way her eyes lit up when she mentioned the cake.
She remembers.
Happiness sparkled inside Adaline. “Do you like it?”
“Like it? I love it.” Gram patted her cheek. “I loved it when I made it for my own wedding nearly fifty years ago, and I love it all over again today.”
Adaline gasped. “Youmade the cake at your wedding?”
The article in theBluebonnet Beaconhadn’t mentioned the baker’s name at all. She’d just assumed Gram had ordered it from a specialty bakery. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that Gram had made the cake herself.
“I sure did. Who else would I have trusted back then with such a special bake?” Gram said with a wink.
“I recreated it as best I could. The sponge is cherry vanilla, and I filled it with tart cherry filling with almond undertones.”
Gram’s eyes sparkled. “And did you make your own almond extract the way that I taught you?”
“Do you even have to ask?” Adaline grinned. “I can’t wait for you to taste it. I hope it’s just like you remember.”
“I’m sure it will be even better. Thank you for recreating it. It’s the best Christmas gift anyone has ever given me.” Gram’s expression went soft. “You know, Adaline, memories are wonderful things to have, but sooner or later, we forget things. Even when we do, the love behind those fond memories remains. I want you to hold on to that truth in the months and years to come. Promise me that, okay?”
