Page 42 of Christmas in Mistletoe
“Then reappeared, her ears like angel’s wings,” Dad added, laughing. “She loved the snow, didn’t she?” He held up the mixture he’d made in his plastic jug, just as he had her entire life. “I take it you want pancakes?”
“Have I ever been known to turn down a pancake?”
“Not in living memory.”
“Well, then,” Fran replied. “Also, I’m thinking about staying on a bit longer this week. I want to make sure you’re both okay. No more arguments with patches of ice or snow.”
“I thought you had loads of work on?” Pop put down his magazine.
Fran nodded. “I do, but I can work from here for a bit.”
Pop sat back, moving his leg. “Does that mean you’re staying for Christmas? Because that would be really terrific.”
The kettle boiled and Fran made her tea, skilfully avoiding the question. “Do either of you need a new one?”
Pop passed her his mug and she made it.
“We’re still waiting for an answer, Francesca Jane.”
Her full name. Now she was in trouble. “I’m not sure, so don’t get your hopes up. I do have a lot of work on, and I was doubtful I’d be able to do it seeing as the Wi-Fi at the cottage is terrible. However, now I have The Bar to work in, it could make a difference. I need to check with my colleagues, too. I kinda volunteered to help Ruby do a gig at the farm next weekend, too.” All dependent on Fast Forward, who were coming into sharper focus today. She needed to speak to Damian.
“You seem to be getting on well after a wobbly start? I’m glad. It seemed a waste that you knew each other, but were keeping your distance.”
“It was a bit weird at first, but things have improved.” Fran sat next to Pop and sipped her tea. Was she blushing? She certainly felt like she was.
“She’s doing a gig next weekend? That’s a lot to organise in such a short period of time. Plus, won’t most people have bought their trees already, the week before Christmas?”
“Most will, some won’t. But it’s about getting people in to see what the farm has to offer. Also, they can pre-order next year’s tree, too.”
Dad put the pancakes on the table, and Fran grabbed the maple syrup from the cupboard, before tucking in. She smiled as she ate. Pancakes were Dad’s speciality, the taste of her childhood.
“Whatever’s keeping you here — my fall or Ruby’s gig — it makes us happy,” Pop said. “We want to see you more. I’m really glad you’re getting on with the locals and pitching in. Especially when my involvement in anything this year might be curtailed because of my stupid leg.”
Fran smiled at him. “I’ll be your representative in the field. I’m asking my colleague if he can cover some of my meetings on Monday, and hopefully I can do some in The Bar. Plus, I’ve got one of our designers working on some social media stuff for the gig. He does this sort of stuff every day professionally, so it makes sense to ask him. What would take him half an hour might take a day to explain to someone else.” She was justifying this too much, wasn’t she?
Sure enough, Dad raised his eyebrow at Pop. In turn, Pop squirted maple syrup onto his pancakes, then gave Fran an interested stare.
“Wow, you really are on-board. I’m impressed. You said you had too much work on. Once your mind’s made up, there’s usually no shifting Francesca Bell. You’re stubborn. You get that from your father.” Pop inclined his head towards Dad.
“I am not stubborn!” Dad said.
Both Pop and Fran burst out laughing.
“You’re stubborn, Dad, and so am I. Stop being so stubborn and just accept it.” Fran had missed this. She glanced out the window, thinking back to last night. Her temperature rose. Was Mistletoe magic real? Maybe it was.
“Is this sudden change of heart and wanting to help out your local community anything to do with Ruby? Is there anything you're not telling us?” Pop couldn’t crinkle his forehead any more if he tried.
Fran shook her head. “No.”
But her body betrayed her, with a rush of blood to her cheeks.
Her dads had always been able to read her like a book. It was one of their very annoying traits. They were both studying her like she was a prize artwork in a gallery they both loved.
She knew it was out of character. She liked Ruby. She wanted to help her succeed. She was willing to change her work schedule to do so. To let Damian handle Fast Forward, even though she knew he was more than capable. That was new.
“Nothing at all? Because we are your parents. If you are lusting after another girl, we might be able to give you some wisdom.”
“I'm not lusting after another girl. Sometimes you two being gay issoannoying. These are not the conversations children normally have with their parents.” She sounded like she was 14 again and trying to deny it for real the first time around. She’d tried so hard to be straight and to fit in at school. At 17, she gave in and told her dads what they already knew.
