Page 154

I laugh into my cider.

Six months into our new, now-out-in-the-open relationship, Fox proposed again and said we should have a summer wedding followed by a two-week honeymoon to a paradise island in the Pacific. Who am I to say no to that?

Of course the town made a big deal of it, and now everyone thinks they’re a small part of our happy ever after. They might be, but I won’t tell them that.

Emmett continues his march toward the sound booth where Meredith is, and I turn to face the festival grounds.

The Christmas tree at the center of the field glows softly against the late-afternoon light. The vendor booths are lined up in neat rows. The food tent has a line out the door because it always does, and Joe is back with his wings. Kids are running around. A woman is walking a golden retriever wearing tiny reindeer antlers.

Everything is fine.

Everything is really, honestly, actually fine.

I pull my phone out.

Fox:

Got tied up at the house. Sorry. Will come pick you up for the closing. Do NOT drive yourself home.

I smile at the screen.

Finn:

Bossy.

Fox:

Correct.

Finn:

See you soon. Love you.

Fox:

I love you.

I put my phone away and walk toward the food tent to warm up.

Bastian and Taylen are near the corner of the tent. Taylen has his hand tucked into Bastian’s coat pocket.

“Little brother,” Bastian says as I approach. “You look almost rested.”

“I have been getting eight hours a night. It is possible after all.”

“How dare you,” Taylen says.

“Come get cider with us.”

We join the line at the front of the food tent, and Joe waves at me over the pass-through window and slides three fresh mugs across the counter without asking.

“On the house.”

“Joe.”

“Griffin, take the cider. Don’t fight me on Christmas Eve.”

“Thank you.”