Page 63 of Grumpy Glitter Christmas
A woman emerged from the crowd. She was probably in her early sixties, with silver hair pulled back in a practical bun and warm, intelligent eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. She worea simple navy dress, no jewelry. There was something quietly powerful, and maybe a bit sad, about her presence, a strength that didn’t need to announce itself.
She climbed the stage steps with steady grace and accepted the check from Meena, her smile genuine and deeply grateful.
“Thank you,” Cecily said, her voice clear and carrying. “The Frost Pine Ridge Food Bank has been serving this community for twenty-three years. Every dollar raised tonight will go directly to families who need it. Especially during the holidays, when the need is greatest.”
She paused, her eyes sweeping the room, and Grant had the distinct impression she was seeing each person individually, acknowledging them.
“What you’ve done tonight—the generosity, the joy, the community you’ve built in this room—this is what Frost Pine Ridge is all about. This is what makes our town special.” Her gaze landed on Felicity and Grant, still standing hand-in-hand near the auction tables. “Ms. Adams, Mr. Whitaker—thank you for creating a space where this kind of magic can happen. Where a taxidermy squirrel can raise three hundred and fifty dollars for people who are hungry.”
The room laughed, but it was a warm, appreciative sound.
“I’m proud to serve this community,” Cecily concluded. “And I’m grateful to every single person here tonight. Thank you.”
The applause was thunderous. Grant found himself clapping as hard as anyone, moved by the simple dignity of her words.
With the auction over, the band started playing again.
Grant took Felicity’s hand. “Dance with me?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He led her onto the floor, one hand at her waist, the other holding hers. They moved together easily, naturally, as if they’d been dancing together for years instead of minutes.
“I can’t believe this is real,” Felicity murmured, her head resting against his shoulder. “A few hours ago, I thought you were about to tell me you were leaving for Boston.”
Grant pulled back to look at her. “Victoria’s offer was never a real option. I think I knew that the moment she made it. But I was afraid to close the door completely. Afraid of what it meant to choose this town, this bank, this life.” He cupped her face gently. “Then I realized the only thing I was really afraid of was losing you.”
“You’re not going to lose me,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m annoyingly persistent. Ask anyone.”
“I’m counting on it.”
They danced through two more songs, content just to hold each other, to exist in this perfect bubble of happiness.
Around them, the gala continued. Ida and Ruth were dancing together, Ida still wearing her holly-sprig hair, both of them laughing. Leo and Jade swayed nearby, Jade’s head on Leo’s massive shoulder, both looking blissfully happy.
And across the room, near the bar, Brice and Meena were locked in what appeared to be another argument, but they were standing much closer than the conversation required. As Felicity watched, Meena poked Brice’s chest to emphasize a point, and his hand came up to catch hers, holding it there. They froze, staring at each other.
“Those two are doomed,” Grant observed.
“Those two are perfect,” Felicity corrected. “They just don’t know it yet.”
“Should we interfere?”
“Absolutely not. Let them figure it out the hard way, like we did.”
Grant laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest where her head rested. “You’re devious.”
As the evening wound down, as guests began to collect coats and say their goodbyes, Felicity found herself standing in the middle of the ballroom she’d transformed. The lights glowed softly. The decorations sparkled. The room smelled of pine and success and possibility.
Grant stood beside her, their fingers intertwined, and together they watched their community drift into the snowy night, happy and fed and full of the kind of joy that would carry them through the winter.
“Thank you,” Grant said quietly.
“For what?”
“For not giving up on me. On this. On us.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you for finally seeing what was right in front of you.”
