Page 23 of A Mistletoe Mix Up
“It’s not that simple, Gramps.” I glance toward the hall.
“Life rarely is.” He shrugs.
“What if it changes everything? What if it ruins our friendship? What if…what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” I ask, fear gripping me.
“But what if she does? What if it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you? The ‘what ifs’ can be terrifying, Grayson, but don’t let fear rob you of something that could be beautiful.”
I nod slowly, his words sinking in. And I think of the life we could build together. Best-case scenario, I’m hers forever, and that thought? It sends my heart racing with joy. Her fiery red hair, her infectious laugh, her hazel eyes lighting up when she talks about books and her drawings, everything I love about her.
“But what about the job?”
“Only you can answer that, but you don’t have to have it all figured out right now. One decision at a time.”
“Guess the first step is to talk to Tandy, huh?”
Gramps hums, looking pleased. “You always were a smart kid.”
I stifle a snort of laughter, picking up my mug for one last gulp of coffee. “Let’s hope that intelligence stays with me when I talk to her.”
“You’ll do just fine.” He smiles, patting my hand. “Don’t overthink it.”
I thank Gramps for his wisdom, and as I head down the hall to my room, my heart beats anxiously. I try to think of the right words to say to her, and every time a sentence pops into my head, it sounds even dumber than the one before it. The door is slightly ajar, and I knock gently.
“Tandy? You up?”
No response. I push the door open, but the room is empty. My room looks untouched by her, unscathed by her fire. A cold dread fills me. She’s gone. When? Why? Did she leave because of me? Because of our kiss?
“Gramps?” I call out, rushing out of the room. “Tandy’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s gone?”
“Her stuff. It’s all gone.”
Chapter Twelve
Tandy
When I finally got into bed after hours spent lost in Cookies and Holiday Tales event prep and the event itself, news awaited me. The Johnsons texted me that the pipe was fixed. I could come back home.
When I woke up, startled, I couldn’t go back to sleep. So I quietly packed up my things and decided to go home before work. Gray wasn’t on the couch, so he must have already been out for a run. I just figured I’d talk to him later today, like we always do.
Fingers still shaky, I pull my mail out of my mailbox and tuck it under my arm. I unlock the door and step inside. I’m…home.
Except it doesn’t feel like home anymore. Something has shifted. It feels empty, devoid of warmth, devoid of life. I crumble onto the couch, a sigh escaping my lips. Was I expecting streams of sun filtering through my curtains to welcome me back? It’s four in the morning, of course not. But I didn’t expect it to feel so different.
I sort through the mail pile, and one envelope catches my attention. A cream colored one with red ribbon with an “Operation Mistletoe Match” stamp on the front. On the back, it has a wax seal with “MC” on it. I wonder who it’s from? Maybe the Johnsons left me a Christmas card. They are “Mark and Carol” after all. But this feels so fancy for them.
Unraveling the red ribbon, I break the wax seal and open the envelope. Inside is a handwritten note on paper that smells of gingerbread cookies.
Dear Tandy,
A sweet little elf has told me about you. You’ve wandered from place to place, forever seeking, yet never finding. Looking for a sense of home, perhaps? Maybe you’ve been searching for something concrete, but what if home is not a place, but a person?
A person who makes you feel safe, cherished, and loved. The one who steadies your restless heart. The one who makes you want to stay, not run away.
This Christmas, I encourage you to take a chance, my dear, to make a leap of faith. Santa isn’t the only one who delivers surprises. And a little mistletoe magic never hurt anyone.
With mistletoe kisses and a heart full of hope,
