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“I don’t know. Maybe. But hoping for the best is a better way to live life than always anticipating the worst.”

“True. She probably won’t sleep tonight.”

“And neither will we unless you stop talking. I estimate that the girls will be shaking us awake in less than four hours.”

“You’re joking!” Brooke checked the time and groaned. “How did it get this late?”

“We were talking. And enjoying another bottle from Walter’s excellent wine cellar. Which is unlike you. You never drink on Christmas Eve.”

“That’s because the only way to make sure the whole thing runs to my mother’s schedule is to be stone-cold sober. But this year we don’t have a schedule. This year our Christmas is all about improvisation.” She curved her hand over his shoulder. “You’re very handsome. Have I told you that?”

“Not lately.”

“I particularly like you with the biscuit-tin dent in your head.”

“Oh, yeah? You like a scar on a man?” He pulled her closer and she smiled.

“I like anything on you. The wine was delicious, wasn’t it?”

“Exceptional.”

“I wish I could have met Walter.”

“Me, too.” He pulled her closer. “Mabel was right about one thing, though—you were brave to have that conversation with your mother.”

“I didn’t feel brave.” Her stomach ached. It felt like the hardest thing she’d ever done. “Do you think she’s lying awake upset?”

“Hopefully, if she’s awake it’s because she and your dad are thinking through what you said. Try and sleep now.”

But Brooke’s mind was too busy to sleep. “I don’t think my matchmaking attempt with Jason and Izzy worked.”

“How do you know?”

“I was watching them. They didn’t really look at each other.”

“Is that significant? It has been a busy day. They spent most of their time occupying our kids. They were great.”

Brooke smiled. “I know. I must ask Jason to send me some of those photos he took in the snow.”

“Do you think we could invite them to spend every Christmas with us? Jason is very handy at building a snowman, and if we could bottle and sell Izzy’s energy, we’d make a fortune.”

“We’ll be in London next year. We won’t have enough snow to build a snowman.”

“Good point.”

She turned her head and looked out the window. “Have you seen the stars? I’m never going to forget this Christmas, Matt.”

“Neither am I. It’s the first time I’ve had an airbag explode in my face and been smacked in the head by a shortbread tin. It’s going to be hard to beat that.”

“That’s not the part I’m going to remember.” Cocooned in warmth and wrapped in Matt’s arms, she felt sleepy. “I’m going to remember meeting Mabel. I’m going to remember Elsie’s face when they wrote a story together. I’m going to remember Poppy building that snowman. And I’m going to remember last night.”

“Last night?” His voice was teasing. “What happened last night? Ouch.” He flinched as she dug him in the ribs. “Oh, you mean your romantic dinner for Jason and Izzy.”

“That didn’t have the desired effect, or so it seems, but I enjoyed sneaking up here with you to give them space.” She slid her hand over his chest. “We haven’t talked like that in a long time.”

“I know. I liked the other part, too. The part where we weren’t talking.”

“Me, too.” She smiled into the darkness. “I think we need to re-evaluate our wine and kissing nights.”