Page 41 of Wassailing We Will Go
I blush and turn to face him, dropping the dish I was cleaning back into the sink. I mean, it’s true now, right?
In more ways than one, he says and closes the distance between us. I tiptoe to meet him, and it’s my favourite kiss of my whole life, even though my hands still have suds on them as they wrap around his shoulders. He has a dish towel thrown over one side, and I don’t mind that, either.
We hear the front door open and break the kiss slowly rather than springing apart like we have in the past. Milo runs in and jumps all over Harrison, which ends the kiss for real.
Why does it smell like meat in here? yells Ryan from the front entrance. Did you roast an entire animal somewhere in this house?
Sue me for having hobbies! Harrison yells back.
Britt walks in and smiles. Ah, she says.
I should go, I say.
But we have a party to plan, says Ryan, coming in with a case of their cider.
Harrison looks at me, confused.
The Wassail party next Sunday, I say. That Britt and Ryan are going to host.
He grins and pulls me into another bear hug, and I think I might become a hugger yet if this is what I have to look forward to.
Britt and Ryan dig into the insane amount of leftovers that still remain, and by the end of the night, I do have to admit: Britt and Ryan are really nice.
CHAPTER TWENTY
IN THE END, AUNT JENN forgives Barb. They have a heart-to-heart involving many tears, but it ends with Aunt Jenn gently suggesting that Barb find another job. I promote Hugo to her role, and he tells me that it’s his best Christmas present.
The last weekend of Wassail is the best yet, with no illnesses, no heartbreak, and a very emotional Charlie getting teary-eyed every time he sees me or Harrison. We had come clean about our budding relationship, and apparently, Charlie is a secret romantic.
We keep Rodney on board for all the future karaoke nights, leaving Harrison more time to hang out with his apparent new best friend, Jeremy. On Saturday, Aunt Lauren flies in, and she and Aunt Jenn are equally thrilled with Harrison. They’re impressed with his craft when he shows them what he’s working on in the tank room, and personally, he and Aunt Lauren especially hit it off.
By Sunday night, it’s the final night of the Wassail festival, and we’re all going to head to bitter&sweet’s after-party, but we have one tradition left to do. All the Sparks Cidery staff and a few remaining guests, including my parents and aunts, make our way to the orchards. The sky is clear, and the moon is nearly full. We’re all carrying warm mugs of mulled cider, and several people have brought instruments with them. When we get far enough into the orchards, some of the musicians begin to play. And soon, everyone joins in:
Here we come a-wassailing
Among the leaves so green;
Here we come a-wand’ring
So fair to be seen.
Charlie and my Aunt Lauren, ever the hippies, started the tradition when they opened the cidery. Singing the wassailing song is meant to bring in a bountiful harvest for the following year, and they’ve done it every year without fail. Year over year, it has become a bigger and bigger affair, with guests joining in and locals coming to give their best wishes.
Many staff have brought family tonight: Nadine has her husband and two large sons in tow, who are gamely mouthing the words of the song, if not outright singing. Daniel is standing with his mom, who looks a little lost but is being a real trooper about the whole thing, and Rodney has shown up with a pretty local County girl who has attended the last two karaoke nights and sat in the very front row. Hugo, our new orchard manager, is chatting with my high school friend Bailey—apparently, they hit it off during the cookie plague weekend and look like they might exchange numbers.
Charlie and Gwen are holding hands, both looking a little wistful: Charlie’s retirement party is going to be next Saturday now that the cidery is slowing down for the rest of the year. The number of well-wishers who want to attend the party is getting to the point where we have real concerns about our cidery’s capacity to host the event.
Harrison stands beside me, holding my hand through thick mittens. His carolling voice is just as good as his karaoke, because like everything else, he’s giving it his all.
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail too;
And God bless you and send you
A Happy New Year
EPILOGUE
