Phineas’s expression shifted through several emotions, surprise, suspicion, and maybe longing, before settling into his familiar scowl.
“They don’t want an old scrooge at their party,” he said gruffly, already starting to shuffle away. “I’ll just ruin everyone’s good time.”
Sylvie stepped forward with a smile on her face. “We do want you there, Mr. Withers. You’re invited. Kent will be at your place at six o’clock.”
Phineas paused, looking between us like he was trying to figure out what our angle was.
“Wear one of your bowties,” Sylvie added with a smile that could have melted steel. “I know you have quite the collection.”
I saw something dance in the old man’s eyes then, a spark of something that looked almost like mischief. “Perhaps I will,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.
“I’ll see you soon,” I said.
As he shuffled away, I caught Sylvie watching me with an expression that was part admiration, part curiosity.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said, but she was smiling. “Just… that was really sweet of you.”
“He was kind to me when I needed it,” I said simply. “Everyone deserves to be included, especially at Christmas.”
Sylvie’s smile widened. She rose up on her toes to kiss me right there on the sidewalk in the middle of downtown Northwood. “I love you,” she murmured against my lips.
“I love you too,” I said, meaning it more than I’d ever meant anything in my life.
We continued our afternoon errands, but the simple tasks took twice as long as they should have because we kept getting distracted by each other. In the craft store, while Sylvie picked out supplies for children’s activities, I found myself watching the way she considered each option with the kind of careful attention that suggested she was mentally picturing how every kid at the party would react.
And for some crazy reason, I immediately jumped to the idea of her picking out craft projects for our kids. I just knew she’d be one of those moms that spent the weekends making wild crafts with the kids. There wouldn’t be any screens. Just her and our babies.
“What about these?” she asked, holding up a package of foam snowflake stickers.
“Perfect,” I said, though I was more focused on the way the afternoon light from the store window highlighted the red in her hair.
In the grocery store, I was supposed to be helping her gather ingredients for some last-minute appetizers, but I kept finding excuses to touch her. Brushing my hand against hers when we reached for the same item. Placing my palm on the small of her back as we navigated the crowded aisles. Stealing quick kisses when I thought no one was looking.
“You’re being very distracting,” Sylvie said as we waited in line to check out, but she was smiling as she said it.
“Good,” I murmured, leaning down to nuzzle her ear. “I like distracting you.”
She shivered and elbowed me playfully. “Behave. We’re in public.”
“Since when do you care about public displays of affection?” I asked, remembering the way she’d kissed me on the sidewalk just an hour earlier.
“Since you started looking at me like that,” she said, her cheeks flushing pink.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to forget all about Christmas Eve prep and drag me back to my apartment.”
The accuracy of her observation made me grin. “Is that really such a bad idea?”
“Yes,” she said firmly, though her eyes were dancing with mischief. “We have a party to host, remember? Plus, you have to pick up Mr. Withers at six.”
Right. The party. The dozens of guests who would be expecting a magical Christmas Eve celebration. The community that was counting on us to deliver the kind of evening that would create memories to last a lifetime.
But as we loaded our purchases into the car and headed back to the lodge, all I could think about was how surreal this all felt. I was planning Christmas parties and inviting lonely old men to dinner and thinking about how to make craft activities engaging for children.
The transformation should have felt jarring. It should have made me question whether I was making the right choices. Instead, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. It was like putting on a comfortable pair of shoes or a pair of jeans that fit just right. This was exactly where I was supposed to be.
