Page 38 of Holidate Scramble
She emerged with her pixie cut stylishly tousled, wearing a red sequined dress that hugged her gorgeous curves. The silver star charm I'd given her last Christmas caught a winter sunbeam as she approached, the tiny pendant never leaving her wrist these past twelve months.
"The realtor called while you were in the shower," she said, excitement dancing in her eyes. "The owners of the harbor house accepted our offer."
My heart leaped. "They did?"
"Yes!" She crossed the room and threw her arms around my neck. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart! We have a house."
I pulled her close, savoring her familiar scent. "One with enough room for your expanding business and my mother's eventual move-in?"
"Four bedrooms, water views, and that gorgeous kitchen I've been dreaming about." She pulled back, her face alight. "Just think - next Christmas, we'll be celebrating in our own home."
"Our home," I repeated, letting the significance sink in. After a year of remarkable change, we'd found our rhythm. Piper had moved in six months ago, filling the once-barren cottage with color and warmth, as I knew she would. Her marketing company—now officially named "North Star Creative"—had grown from a one-woman operation to a small team serving businesses throughout Cape Cod. I'd accepted the permanent position at Cape Cod Regional, restructuring the surgical department to prioritize both excellent care and physician work-life balance—something my younger self would have considered heresy.
"We should go," she said, glancing at her watch. "Maisie will have our heads if we're late for Christmas brunch."
"Can't have that." Especially not today, when Piper’s best friend was instrumental to what I hoped would be the most important moment of my life other than the births of my children.
The drive to The Little Red Hen took us past frost-trimmed pines and colonial homes wrapped in garlands and lights. Piper's hand rested on my thigh as she described her vision for the sun porch in our new house. By the time we pulled into the café's parking lot, my nerves had settled into steady resolve.
Lenora's car was already there. Everything was unfolding exactly right.
Inside, the cafe buzzed with holiday cheer. Evergreen garlands and red ribbons adorned the ceiling beams, while tiny white lights twinkled around the windows. The mingled aromas of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls, savory sausage, and rich coffee created an intoxicating welcome. Logan waved from behind the counter, where he assisted Maisie with arranging cranberry-orange scones on vintage cake stands.
And there, at her usual corner table, sat my mother, her silver hair styled in soft waves, wearing her white cardigan with embroidered holly leaves—the one Piper had helped her pick out last week. Beside her, Nora O'Malley gestured animatedly as they shared some private joke.
"Mom," I said, bending to kiss her cheek. "Merry Christmas."
"Everett!" Her gaze focused with that unmistakable spark of recognition that had become increasingly precious—a good day, then. The greatest gift I could have wished for. "You're wearing the tie I gave you."
"Of course I am. It's Christmas." I straightened the forest green silk tie she'd presented me last night. "And Piper, my dear," my mother continued, reaching for her hand, "that necklace is lovely with your dress."
As Piper slid into the seat beside her, my mother whispered something that made them both dissolve into laughter. Their bond had deepened over countless afternoon teas and garden visits, transcending the cognitive fog that sometimes enveloped my mother. Even on her difficult days, she recognized Piper—"the girl with sunshine in her smile," as she called her.
The café filled with familiar faces—Mayor Reeves discussing town business with her husband, the local carpenter introducing his new girlfriend to Walter Mackenzie of cookie competition fame, families whose medical histories I now knew by heart.Starlight Bay had become home in a way Boston never managed in twenty years.
Henrietta announced herself with an indignant squawk as Maisie began serving the first course. The Rhode Island Red paraded through the café with imperious dignity, inspecting tables and accepting tributes of gentle pats from children brave enough to offer them. When she reached our table, she hopped unexpectedly onto the empty chair beside me, fixing me with that beady-eyed stare I'd learned to interpret as judgment.
"I think she's giving you her formal approval," Piper laughed. "You've been officially inducted into the Starlight Bay inner circle."
"About time," I murmured, catching Maisie's eye across the room. She gave me the subtlest nod and tapped her spoon against her water glass.
"Everyone," she called, "before we dive into our Christmas feast, Rhett has something he'd like to share with us all."
Piper turned to me, confusion replacing her smile. "What's going on?"
Heart suddenly pounding in my ears, I stood and offered her my hand. "Trust me?"
She nodded, allowing me to lead her to the center of the café, where the soft winter daylight streamed through windows framing the steadily falling snow. The perfect backdrop for what I'd spent weeks planning.
"One year ago," I began, my voice steadier than I felt, "I stood in a hotel ballroom and made the best decision of my life—choosing Starlight Bay, choosing to begin again." I took both her hands in mine. "Choosing you."
Her lips parted in surprise as understanding dawned across her features. Around us, conversations hushed as I lowered myself to one knee.
"Piper Summers, you waltzed into my life with sparkles and chaos and more joy than I thought possible. You taught me that chronological age means nothing compared to the age of your spirit. You showed me Starlight Bay's magic isn't in its quaint streets or ocean views, but in its connections—the web of relationships that turn a location into a home."
I reached into my pocket and withdrew the velvet box, opening it to reveal the emerald-cut diamond flanked by tiny sapphires.
"Last Christmas Eve, I told everyone you were my North Star. This year, I'm asking if you'll continue guiding me home for all the Christmases to come. Piper, will you marry me?"
