She squeals with pure glee, and my smile widens. We’ve been engaged since July, yet every time she hears the wordfiancée, it’s like I just popped the question under the stars all over again. We have just one more month until our wedding day, but if it were up to me, we would have been married long ago. But Ji was adamant she needed at least six months to plan a proper wedding, so that’s all we’re giving her, down to the day.
“I can’t wait to marry you, Missy Jean,” I say, resting my forehead against hers.
Her glossed lips press the tiniest kiss on the corner of my mouth before she steps back. Her eyes glitter, knowing full well the power she has over me. But before I know it, she heads off toward the front walkway.
“Oh no, Missy Jean. You can’t tease me with a kiss like that and walk away,” I say, reaching for her hand.
But too soon, she scampers onto the shrub-lined walkway in her three-inch heels. I waste no time chasing after her. The closer I get, the more she laughs until I catch her from behind,wrapping my arms around her waist and spinning her in the opposite direction. She yelps and giggles in my arms, just as she had so many nights ago on the island when she ran away with my hand sanitizer right before our almost kiss. But this time, I’m not going for almost.
I let Missy go and she slowly backs away from me with the grin of a temptress. “Colton, no. I just put on lip gloss.”
“Great. I was just thinking my lips felt a little dry,” I say, brushing my lips with my fingers.
“Berry Red is not your shade,” she warns.
I snake an arm around her back until she’s flush up against me. “Try me.”
Missy bites her full bottom lip, baiting me, daring me, but I need no encouragement. My lips are on hers, soft at first, but when her arms circle my neck, pulling me closer, I deepen the kiss and cradle my beautiful, tough, radiant, and fearless Missy Jean in my arms.
“Colton? Missy? Is that you out here?” My mother’s voice sounds from the front porch about five shrubs down. Missy and I quickly break apart, the air from our lungs causing hazy white clouds to billow around us.
Mom’s shoes click-clack against the walkway as she approaches us. Missy’s cheeks brighten to a vibrant red.
“There you two are.” Mom wraps her arms around her torso. “Come inside, it’s freezing out here.”
A blast of warm air encompasses us as we walk past the massive walnut door and into the foyer of my parents’ home.
Mom, in her red blazer with a festive wreath brooch on her lapel, instantly goes into Christmas hostess mode, asking for our coats, hanging them in the front closet, and welcoming us inside.
I give Mom a big hug, my gratitude for her stronger than ever. Where my family is concerned, it’s been a long year and a halffull of navigating the delicate nature of wounded prides, crushed hopes, and healing relationships.
After my disagreement with Dad at The Red Curtain last summer, he’d stayed true to his word, pulling my trust fund, apartment, and car. All of which I had expected. But what I hadn’t anticipated was the chill that came from Dad freezing me out, just as he’d done with Will years earlier.
Going from Dad’s prized son to a mere acquaintance within the span of a day was more painful than I’d imagined. But then there was Mom. She’d always been a staunch supporter of my dad and his opinions, but after my confrontation with Dad at The Red Curtain, she pushed back. At first, she’d send me texts a few times a week, checking in on me, inquiring about my new job at Parson & Watts, and asking how Missy was doing.
Against my dad’s wishes, Mom’s texts turned into weekly lunch dates with me and Missy. She also made monthly trips up to Vail to see my brother, Will. Finally, on Thanksgiving this year, Mom put her foot down, insisting that we all have dinner together. However, Will got stuck in Vail due to bad weather and wasn’t able to come.
To my surprise, Dad had been more reserved at Thanksgiving, slower to give his opinions and quicker to listen. And at the end of the night, he’d even congratulated me and Missy on our engagement. In true Missy fashion, she’d wrapped her arms tight around Dad, as if he’d never attempted to steal her dreams. And in response, Dad had given her a smile—a small one, but genuine.
Missy engulfs Mom in a giant hug, which my mom responds to with equal enthusiasm. Mom’s always loved Missy, but after seeing us together at our first lunch date, things changed between them. Missy was no longer someone in her son’s friend group; she was the daughter Mom never had.
“Missy, sweetheart. It’s good to see you.” Mom gives her one last squeeze. “The Christmas Spectacular you put on was truly wonderful. We loved it so much. We were just sad we had to head out early to beat the snow,” Mom says, referring to the Christmas program Missy put on at The Red Curtain last week.
Since Something to Glow About had officially become a nonprofit organization last month, something Missy had worked tirelessly for over the past year and a half, some of the kids in the program had come up with an idea to throw a festive talent show to celebrate the occasion, which Missy supported wholeheartedly.
Each of the kids in her program had eagerly jumped in, doing anything from manning the lighting booth to making artistic signs for advertisements around Pine Lakes to performing a four-part harmony to “Jingle Bells” using nose kazoos. I’ve never seen her kids shine as bright as they had that night. Missy had highlighted each child in a way that brought out their best selves. Missy was not just changing lives, but transforming our community altogether.
Missy tilts her head, confusion creasing her brows. “We?”
“Yes,wewere there,” Mom says, referring to my dad. Mom links her arm in Missy’s and leans toward both of us, whispering, “James won’t admit it, but he’s coming around. And between the three of us, he was crying tears watching you sign ‘Silent Night’ with that sweet little girl that lost her hearing last year. That was something else, Missy.”
Missy’s eyes well with tears, and Mom pats her arm as they share a warm smile.
Mom straightens and looks over to me. “Now, your brother and his girlfriend are just in the kitchen. You two head on in, and I’m just going to let your father know you’re all here.”
“Will brought Lexi?” I perk up, eager to meet the artist Will has been telling me about over the phone these past few months.
When we get into the kitchen, I find Will and Lexi snacking on one of the three trays brimming with an assortment of cheeses, jellies, crackers, and fruit.
