Page 12 of Holiday at Home
We laugh and share stories, and one cider turns into two which turns into three and the years separating us dissolve.
Suddenly the band stops playing and applause breaks through the crowd. Our mayor steps onto the scene. He’s small and round and bundled up in a suit and coat like it’s actually freezing instead of mildly chilly.
“Good evening, Stillwater Bay!”
The crowd answers with cheers and a few whistles, the sound rolling like a tide through the square.
“Now, I know some of you were worried this year’s tree might take flight in that Gulf breeze, but I promise she’s anchored tighter than Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve!”
Laughter ripples through the crowd.
“Every December, our little town does something that most people wouldn’t expect from a place with palm trees and flip-flops. We lean all the way into Christmas. We bake too much. We drink cocoa in seventy-degree weather. We string lights from every lamppost and pretend this Florida humidity is a winter chill.” He grins, pausing as whispers of agreement run through the crowd.
“But you know what? That’s what makes Stillwater Bay special. We make our own kind of Christmas magic. Not because of the weather, or the lights, or even the tree we’re about to light up. We make it because of the people standing right here. Neighbors helping neighbors. Families gathering again after along year. Friends sharing laughter and kindness. That’s what keeps this town glowing long after the decorations come down.”
He gestures toward the darkened tree towering behind him, a grin spreading across his jolly face.
“So, let’s do what Stillwater does best. Let’s make it shine. I want everyone—young and old, locals and visitors—to join me in counting down. Ready?”
The crowd roars back, “Ready!”
“Ten… nine… eight…”
Children squeal, parents lift them up, phones rise to record, and the square fills with laughter and anticipation.
“…three… two… one!”
The tree bursts to life in a blaze of gold and emerald and ruby light. The crowd gasps, then cheers, the sound swelling with carols and joy.
The mayor raises his cocoa. “Merry Christmas, Stillwater Bay!”
A chorus of “Merry Christmas” sounds through the crown, and I glance at Violet, who’s smiling sadly, trying to wipe tears from her eyes so no one will see.
“You okay?” I whisper.
“Mom used to love this.” She glances at me then quickly turns away. “She’d start getting excited in November and would be almost giddy by the time we got here. I just… I miss them, Simon. I miss a lot of things.”
Her voice is raw, and I throw an arm around her shoulders, holding her close.
Instinct?
Habit?
Either way, there’s an overwhelming desire to be there for her like I used to.
Violet leans into me, and it feels just as comfortable and right and real as it ever did.
“Thank you,” she whispers and I press a kiss into the top of her head, then widen my eyes in shock. Nostalgia or not, top-of-head kisses go one step too far. I mean, right?
Before my rum-soaked brain supplies an answer, two women stroll up, pausing to stare, and in the dim light I recognize Erin Rochester and Cassidy Young from high school. They drop their jaws in shock.
“Oh wow!” Erin presses her hand to her chest. “I mean ohwow!When did this happen?” She waggles her finger back and forth between Vi and me. Nora and Robbie lean over to see what’s caught the women’s attention and their lips slowly part.
Cassidy’s eyes glimmer. “You two were the couple to beat back in the day.”
“It was so sad when you broke up.” Erin tilts her head in that classic femalesad storyway and Cassidy claps her hand together.
“It’s like a Christmas miracle to see you together again!”
