I resisted the urge to google local therapists ASAP. Mistletoe didn’t have any. Like, none. And this felt like something I could, um, journal my way through. Maybe. “Well, it’s in the past. And I didn’t move to Nashville. So . . . win-win.”
She threw an ear-to-ear grin at me. “Now you’re home with me! And we get to go to school together. And cookie day together. And next weekend there’s a holiday pop up bar at Marv’s. And don’t forget the annual Christmas Carol at the community theater—”
“Ugh, at least tell me the acting has improved over the years.”
She cackled a laugh. “Oh, no. If anything, it’s gotten much, much worse.”
“Great. Can’t wait.”
Her expression sobered. “Do you hate being back? Tell me the truth. Do you hate it here?”
Did I hate it here? Did I hate Main Street covered in so many Christmas lights you could probably see it from space? Did I hate the cutest first graders who’d spent last week testing boundaries and slowly getting to know me? Did I hate the movie night in the park? Or the spontaneous dinners of rotating casseroles with Tom and Linda?
No, no I didn’t. I didn’t hate any part of it.
But to Teagan, I told the darkest, deepest truth. “It’s easier when she’s not here. I don’t want her to come home.”
Teagan frowned. “She never stays long, though.”
I let out a bitter laugh. I’d worked on my relationship with my mom over the years. There had been the cheap therapy. And the solo processing of all the traumatic moments. And thesheer determination to just get over it and move on with my life. But being back in Mistletoe had uprooted some long-buried resentment, and I was finding it harder and harder to push it back into the locked box buried somewhere deep in my chest.
But Cookie Day was sacred. So these dumb feelings would have to wait. “Let’s go, Teags. Don’t want to keep Linda waiting.”
She nodded solemnly. “She has been known to burn your sugar cookies if you’re late.”
“She’s a legend.”
“She’s a crazy person.”
“I love her.”
Teagan held the door open for me. “Me too.”
CHAPTER 9
Sugar Cookie Conundrum
“Mommy, we’re hoooo-ooome!” Teagan shouted as we dropped our purses by the door and toed off our shoes. The temps had dropped, sending a scattering of flurries through the air. But the Meyer’s home was warm and cozy and smelled like freshly baked cookies.
I took a deep breath and settled a little more solidly in Mistletoe.
“In here,” Linda called back.
We made our way to the kitchen only to find it full of Teagan’s brothers. Tom was snoozing in the recliner, football on the TV. Alex was close to sleeping on the couch but was holding on. But everyone else—Linda, Cooper, Riley, Parker, and Kami—was gathered around the dining room table, an array of frostings and sprinkles on top of a disposable plastic tablecloth.
“You gotta work on your life, T,” Cooper called out from the head of the table. “I’m not tryin’ to be earlier than you everywhere we go.”
She slapped me on the back and said, “It’s not me. It’s my new roommate. She has no sense of urgency.”
“To be fair, I got no warning that this was happening.” I didn’t think it would matter, but it was worth defending myself.
Linda looked aghast. “Holly, it’s the second Sunday of December.”
I held up my hands in defeat. “My bad, everybody. I’ll put it in my calendar as a recurring event.”
“That would be greatly appreciated,” Cooper said primly. He looked at me pointedly as Teagan went off to the kitchen to add more cookies to the oven, and I took my seat at the table. “Since you’re back permanently.”
“Oh, am I?”
