Page 79 of Bad Boy Bachelor Christmas
“Everyone, please welcome Mr. North Waylon, our generous sponsor for this evening and Maple Hill’s leading live Christmas tree supplier. He’s put us on the map in more ways than one. Put your hands together, people!”
The crowd rumbled with enthusiasm.
I found my place in the middle of the stage under the single spotlight mounted on a rack above my head. I feathered my fingers across the microphone, unsure where to start. I should have written something down. My gaze raked across the crowd, landing on Justin first and sliding to Cami, who wiggled her fingers at me to say hello.
Maybe she would forgive me sooner than I thought.
Clearing my throat, I spotted Marge in the crowd, and I found her eyes the easiest to hold while I spoke.
“Welcome back to another annual tree lighting ceremony, Maple Hill.” My voice carried through the speakers and rang back at me. “It’s good to see all your faces. Some familiar. Some new. For those of you who’ve never been before and who are new here, we’re glad to have you. We’re simple people from a simple town, but whenever Christmas rolls around, we have a tendency to get, well, a little extra.”
People snickered in the crowd—mostly those who’d lived here a while.
I continued. “You know, I’ve been doing this for a long time. My whole life, practically. Waylon Farms started two generations ago with my grandfather, who found a piece of property in this population fifteen hundred town and turned it into his dream. If you haven’t been to Waylon Farms yet, you’re more than welcome to. We’re open every evening straight through until Christmas Eve, our last day of business. Anyway, I’m getting distracted. What I’m trying to say is I’m grateful for this place. For you people. For my home.”
Marge clasped her hands together under her chin and nodded encouragingly.
“Admittedly, some of us have fallen on some hard times,” I said, “but this year showed me that there is always a way through the darkness. Even if the path is poorly lit and narrow, there is good waiting on the other side. And I know that Christmas isn’t always merry. Not for everyone. So if you’re having a hard year this year, just know you’re not alone. You’re just not clear of the rockiest part of your path yet, and that’s okay. Christmas can still come with lights and song, and grief can exist right alongside it. Someone very special to me taught me that this year, and I’m indebted to her for it.” I cleared my throat, suddenly caught off guard by my own vulnerability. I rolled my shoulders as if to shrug it off. “Her name is Winter Dodson. Unfortunately, she’s not here tonight, but she’s the one responsible for making this tree magical, as you’ll all soon see. She’s also responsible for showing me the way out. And through. If she were here, I’d thank her. I’d…” I trailed off. “Well, I’d tell her everything I should have said before she left. If you have someone who’s been there for you, I encourage you to tell them what they mean to you. Christmas is and always has been about giving. Give your truth. It’s the best gift of all.”
The crowd whispered, and I looked down at Marge, who had gathered something of an entourage. Cami and Justin were there, as well as Cami’s mother, Leslie.
“Now enough of this mushy stuff,” I said, stealing one of Marge’s lines. “What do you say we light this tree, Maple Hill?”
The crowd cheered.
I hosted the countdown, and the voices of people I’d known my whole life counted down with me, our chant rising up into the starry night sky like thunder. At the count of one, the tree burst into light. People gasped and shielded their eyes as the tree dazzled them with a magnificent tribute to the town itself.
Winter had outdone herself with this one.
She had wanted the tree to speak to the town, as if to remind them of who they were, and she’d done so by using lights and projectors to blast images of Maple Hill’s monuments, buildings, and heritage houses onto the tree itself. Where the projections didn’t play, the tree was done up in twinkling warm lights and classic decorations.
I stepped back to admire it before turning to grin at my friends, all of whom gazed up with their mouths hanging open.
All but one.
A slender, dark-haired young woman in a white hat with a pompom on top, who wore a smile brighter than the tree itself.
CHAPTER36
WINTER
North dropped the microphone.
It landed and rolled on the stage, undoubtedly giving the audio people a migraine as they tried to switch everything off while the sound of the rolling mic filled the speakers. He tried to chase after it, but it fell off the back of the stage into the snow with awhooshand aplop. I covered my mouth and giggled.
Cami turned around. “Winter!”
Justin followed. “What are you doing here?”
I wanted to answer him, but my eyes were glued to North, who dropped off the front of the stage and moved forward, brushing past people and closing a hand on Justin’s shoulder to move him aside. I felt eyes on me—a lot of eyes—but the only pair I cared about were North’s, and he was looking right at me.
Or into me.
“Hi,” I said shakily.
“Hey.”
“Nice speech.”
