Page 38 of A South Hill Christmas Keepsake
Aunt Winnie stood at the center of it all like a five-foot-tall field marshal, clipboard in one hand, cocoa in the other. “Places, people!” she called. “Christmas Craft Market is the opener for South Hill Hometown Holiday Festival, and this tree needs to shine like it’s guiding shepherds tomorrow night.”
Hannah Leigh jogged up, breath puffing white. “How’s it going?”
“Depends on who you ask,” Winnie said. “Here comes South Hill’s notoriously grumpy mayor now. He’s the one who insisted on a dry run. It’s flipping a switch. He’s done it the last three years. Why does he need practice? It’s throwing my whole plan off.”
“It’ll be okay. Let’s just get through it and give him peace of mind,” she reassured her aunt. “I’ll handle it.”
The mayor stomped toward them, his scarf trailing behind him like a battle flag. Mayor Clarence Collier stood near the base of the tree, clipboard in one hand, disapproval in the other. “Winnie, this whole spectacle’s gotten out of hand,” he barked. “Do we really need synchronized lightsanda countdown? Folks just want to see the tree, drink their cocoa, and go home.”
Winnie smiled sweetly. “Clarence, the people of South Hill want wonder. And this year, they’re getting it, even if I have to staple it to the lampposts myself.”
He grumbled about budgets and power bills. “And theEnterpriseis sending someone over? Last thing I need isanother newspaper headline making me look like Santa’s disgruntled intern.”
From the risers, Margaret Jane looked up from a box of hymn books. “Then maybe try smiling, Clarence. Cameras like that.”
For a moment his scowl cracked, something warm flickering behind it, then he cleared his throat. “We’ll see.”
“Margaret Jane!” Winnie bustled over. “You’re an answer to prayer. Darlene lost her voice yelling at her grandkids, and we need an alto for the choir.”
Margaret Jane strolled up, scarf bright as holly berries, volunteering before anyone could stop her. “I’d love to help with the choir,” she said sweetly, earning a grunt from Clarence that might’ve been a yes.
But when Margaret Jane and the mayor’s eyes locked, she blanched.
“Are you okay?” Hannah Leigh reached to steady her. “You look like you might faint.”
“I might,” she whispered. “I swear I just went back in time to the first time he ever looked into my eyes like that.” She blinked twice slowly. “No, I’m okay. I can do this.”
“Perfect. Breathe, honey. Can’t have you falling out in the middle of a Christmas carol.” Winnie turned back to the crowd. “Join the choir in the gazebo. Rehearsal and then cookies and cocoa. Thank you so much. You’re saving the day.”
Margaret Jane practically jogged off to get to the choir.
“Saved the day? Aunt Winnie, you are putting entirely too much pressure on everyone. This is supposed to be fun.”
“It is fun. I’m making sure of it. And did you see the way Clarence and Margaret Jane looked at each other?” She pulled a whistle from her pocket and gave it a two-toot coaches tweet, then hollered, “Volunteers? Get a vendor map over here, and enough crime scene tape to mark off your spots. Chop, chop.”
“Goodness gracious. Crime scene tape?” Hannah Leigh said.
“It was free. Can’t say no to free,” Aunt Winnie said. “Trust me. I’ve got this. This ain’t my first rodeo. Well, it would be my first rodeo, but it’s not my first Christmas event.”
“I get it. Okay, don’t let me interfere.” Hannah Leigh took a step back. Trying with all her might to stay out of it and keep her opinions to herself.
The volunteers scattered. Then Aunt Winnie walked over and whispered to Hannah Leigh, “Did you know once upon a time the mayor was so gaga over Margaret Jane that when she left town, he lost his joy, and his sense of humor right along with it. He wasn’t always this cranky, you know.”
“Aunt Winnie, did you arrange this tree lighting practice and being short one choir singer to force them into proximity?”
“Looks like Christmas magic to me?” Aunt Winnie tried to look innocent, but Hannah Leigh wasn’t buying it.
“The kind you pin to the lamp post yourself? Shame on you. Don’t you have enough on your plate without becoming South Hill’s Cupid on the Corner, too?”
“Cupid on the Corner? I like that. I might use that for Valentine’s Day.” Aunt Winnie scribbled a note on her clipboard. “It’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me.”
“I’m worried more about the mayor and Margaret Jane than you at the moment.”
She swatted Hannah Leigh’s arm. “We’re family. You stop that. Believe me. Those two will thank me if I can get them to stop musing from a distance now that she’s back, and get on with falling in love for real.”
Hannah Leigh followed her gaze to where Clarence was pretending to fuss with the power cord, sneaking glances toward the music. “Maybe thatisa possibility.”
Winnie’s smile had the type of warmth you can’t plug in. “Oh, honey, around here, Christmas has a way of mending things.”
