Page 61 of All's Fair in Love and Christmas
His heart skipped a beat.
Mackenzie.
He’d never really allowed himself to see her in the scope of anything outside of work. But now...
Like a bird who’d had his wings clipped all his life but was now given permission to fly, he soared with the freedom of being unrestrained.
His mind jumped to a year from then. They could be celebrating their first Christmas together. Maybe Mackenzie could teach the twins the different ways people celebrated around the world. They could share their own traditions, like camping out under the tree the night before Christmas Eve, watching movies and playing board games in their pajamas.
In five years, Natalie would be attending school dances like winter formal. She’d need a woman’s touch and influence to help her pick out dresses and to teach her about makeup and hair styles. How to navigate the waters of dating and relationships with female friends. (He’d seenMean Girls. He was unequipped to handle the social structure of teenage girls.) Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Having Mackenzie in their lives wouldn’t only be good for him. It would be good for Nat and Nate as well.
In ten years—
You’re doing it again.
Jeremy wiped a hand down his face. It was so easy to fall back into old habits. He’d have to be on alert just to allow things to unfold naturally and not organize his life to such extreme measures.
But still the question remained. What was he going to do about Mackenzie? Because now that nothing stood in his way, he very much wanted todosomething.
The last time he’d seen her, sitting beside her mother’s hospital bed, filled his mind’s eye. Mother and daughter shared similar features. The roundness of their eyes. The delicate upturn at the tips of their noses. The soft curve of their chins. He knew the devastation of losing a loved one. He wasn’t sure which was worse, not getting to say good-bye or watching the person who held a piece of your heart slowly fade away over time, leaving only a shell behind.
Was that why Mackenzie had focused on recreating everyone’s childhood memories?
Was that something he could do for her?
He reached for his phone and unlocked the screen, the idea of a possibility erasing all thoughts of sleep from his mind. Beneath the surface, he buzzed.
Mackenzie had spent so much time and effort reviving the cherished childhood traditions of her coworkers. Why couldn’t everyone at Limitless Designs return the favor and do the same thing for her?
He looked at his calendar app. The office holiday party was in two days. Not a lot of time to plan and put things into action, but not impossible either.
He called Lincoln. His friend’s granny was originally from Jamaica, and Jeremy recalled a bright red, slightly sour drink she made around the holidays.
He was about to give up and end the call when the ringing stopped.
“Someone had better be dead for you to call so late.” Sleep thickened Lincoln’s voice.
Jeremy winced. He’d forgotten the time. “We’re all very much alive. Sorry to disappoint.”
“That’s a status that can easily be changed.” The sound of covers rustling filtered in through the background. “If not an emergency, what’s so important that you had to call at—” He paused, his voice muffled. “For crying out loud, it’s a quarter to three, Jer.”
Oops. “Well, you’re up now, and this will only take a minute.”
“What is it?” Lincoln asked on an exhale of exasperation.
“What’s that red drink your granny makes for the holidays?”
“Sorrel?” Lincoln sounded incredulous. “You woke me up in the middle of the night to ask me about sorrel?”
Jeremy tapped his thigh with his fingertip. “Do you know how to make it?”
A softer, fainter voice mumbled something in the background.
“It’s Jeremy.” Lincoln had turned his head away from the phone to talk to someone else. Jeremy winced again. He’d woken Jill as well. “I know it’s almost three, but the man has lost his mind and is talking about Granny’s sorrel.” Rustling magnified over the speaker. “Jill wants to talk to you,” Lincoln said straight into the receiver.
“What’s going on, Jeremy?” Jill had a smidge more patience in her voice than her husband had.
Part of him wanted to apologize and tell them to go back to sleep. The other part of him figured they were already awake and on the phone. The damage had been done, so he might as well ask his questions.
