Page 19 of The Christmas Keepsake
“About what?”
Mallory whirled at the sound of Hollis’s voice as he exited his truck with the little tree tied to the back. Judging by his expression, she guessed she looked as bad as she felt. “I can’t do this.”
He walked in her direction until he was only a couple of feet away. “Can’t do what?”
“Any of it. All of it.” She gestured to the tree in his cab. “What’s the point of celebrating the season when you don’t have anyone to celebrate with?”
Hollis lifted a brow. “You still have Nan. You have Maddie. Savannah.” He held her gaze. “And me, although I admit I’m no consolation prize.”
Mallory shook her head. “Can I just skip Christmas this year? Forget the tree, the presents, the play. Forget it all… Nan isn’t in the mood for the tree today. I guess I’m not either now. It’s just disappointing, you know.” She pulled in a steadying breath. “I caught the slightest glimpse of holiday excitement when we were on the farm earlier. The smell of pine brought me back to this place in my heart where Christmas was still magical. Then Nan threw me out of her room, and to top it off, Adam just quit the leading role of the play. There’s no play without Santa.”
Hollis nodded as he seemed to process her long list of complaints. “Santas are a dime a dozen. We’ll find one. And you’ll catch that Christmas spirit again.”
“How?”
“When you join me at the dance Friday night. You’re not backing out on me, are you?”
“Did I ever really agree to go in the first place?” She tilted her head to one side, feeling unfamiliarly playful and… flirty?
Hollis stroked his fingers along his beard. She didn’t even likeguys with beards. Except right now, she kind of did. “Do you promise going to this dance will help me find my holiday spirit?”
He looked at her for a long moment before exhaling softly and lowering his hand. “No. No, I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Not these days, at least. But”—he held up a finger—“I do promise that you’ll be like Stella.”
“Stella?” Mallory shook her head. She didn’t know any Stellas.
Hollis did a slow-motion dip and shake of his hips. Then he bit his lower lip. “Stella got her groove back.”
Mallory burst into laughter. Once she caught her breath, she said, “You’re going to help me get my groove back? That assumes I ever had a groove to begin with.”
“You did.” He gave her a knowing look. “You might not have known it, but I did. We are going to rock that dance floor on Friday night. That’s a promise I can make.”
Releasing a sigh, Mallory wondered if she was about to make a big mistake. Her plate was already full. More than full. “Okay, okay. I’ll go to the dance with you.”
He lifted his brows.
Her heart tumbled. Maybe she’d assumed he’d been asking her to go with him. Was he just asking her to go, but not with him? Why did he look surprised? “I mean I’ll see you there,” she corrected. “I’m going for Nan.”
“But you’re saving a dance for me,” Hollis said with a slow-growing grin. Then he rubbed his hands together. “Mallory got her groove back. And her Christmas spirit.” He offered that wink she knew he gave everyone. Somehow this one felt different though. Somehow everything between them shifted and felt… different. In a good way.
The Wildflower Ornament
Look inside the box and pick up the envelope with a number 2 written on the front. Inside you’ll find a small square of pressed wildflowers with a hole punched at the top and a violet-colored ribbon looped through it. Hang this keepsake on the first branch down from the top where the Santa Hat sits.
Here’s the story behind the Wildflower Ornament.
Our little high school play ran for five shows that year with Ralph playing Santa for all of them. Each kiss onstage was hotter than the last. Wow, that man could kiss.
After the last night of the show, he came up to me with a bouquet of wildflowers, saying something about tradition. No one else brought me flowers. Just him. He didn’t ask me out though. Mickey, however, the original Santa, did, and I said yes. Part of me agreed just to get back at Ralph for waiting too long. Maybe I read the signs incorrectly. Maybe Ralph wasn’t interested in me and it was all just acting.
On the night of my date with Mickey, I put on my best dress and curled my hair. Mickey drove me to the nicest restaurant in Bloom. I think he wanted to impress me and flaunt his family’s money. I admit, I was impressed. As we sat down, I admired the establishment and guess who walked in? This wasn’t the kind of place Ralph could afford, yet he strolled through the double doors wearing his Sunday best and that darn Santa hat. He didn’t look my way. Instead, he simply took his seat a few tables in front of mine and ate his meal alone.
It was impossible to focus on my date with him there!I wanted to get up and go tell Ralph to leave. But I also wanted to sit down with him instead.
“If you were jealous, that’s your own fault,” I halfway yelled at him the next Monday, making quite the scene. “You had your chance to ask me out, Ralph. You had your chance to—”
“Go out with me,” he interrupted, his voice so gentle. Then he shook his head, as if he’d messed up. “That’s not the way I wanted to do it. I wanted to do it the right way…” He took a breath. “Nan, I was at that restaurant because I didn’t want you to be the girl—”
“Woman,” I corrected stubbornly.
