“You feeling okay?” Willow asks, nodding toward the base of the unit clipped to my belt loop.
“Yeah, just being proactive, you know?” I say, though it’s only partially true, and she nods.
“Puppy.” Three-year-old Emily squeals, waving a stuffed lamb from the doorway with Noah protectively at her side. “Come here.”
“Easy,” Noah warns a bouncing June Bug.
Noah’s only a year older than his sister, but he lives to take care of her. As the oldest of the Haggerty siblings, that’s something I can relate to. Even at thirty-five, my instinct is to look after Lucy and Ben.
“Be gentle,” Ellie reminds them.
“Okay,” the kids sing in unison, and June Bug lets out a high-pitched yip that could wake the dead.
“Trust me, that cute little twerp is made of rubber,” Lucy says, taking a bite of the pizza I ordered for dinner as the kids and the pup bound down the hall.
Once Emily and Noah are out of earshot, Ben clears his throat. “The kids want to go to Mistletoe Fest,” he announces.
I can’t help the sharp breath that escapes from my mouth. Mistletoe Fest is Loving’s most-anticipated holiday celebration at Bowie Park. It’s a day of festive family fun that includes Christmas-themed food, games, vendors, carolers, karaoke, a gingerbread house contest, and a walk-through light show after dark.
The last time we attended that festival, our collective worlds fell apart, but before that, it had been something we did as a family. We made a lot of happy memories there.
“But…” Lucy trails off, fidgeting in her seat. “We can’t go without Mom.”
“I’m not suggesting we go without her,” Ben says. “What if we bring it up to her Thursday?”
His hope-filled eyes land on me, and I bark out a laugh. “OnThanksgiving? Absolutely not.”
My brother’s voice softens. “But I thought if you were already going to talk to her about moving where we celebrate Christmas?—”
I cut him off. “Ben, I said I wouldtry. You know how she gets over the holidays.”
“I know,” he says with his best sad-puppy face. “It would just mean a lot to the kids.”
My chest aches, and I release a heavy sigh. I would give anything to see my niece and nephew get to enjoy Mistletoe Fest. It had been one of my favorite traditions as a child.
“If things go well when we ask about Christmas, I’lltry,” I say, and Ben’s frown immediately turns upside down. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt for you and Lucy to speak up to Mom every now and then too. I can’t always be the bad guy.”
“But you’re so good at it,” Lucy teases, and I shoot her a death glare.
She holds her hands up in surrender. “I’m kidding.”
“Look, I’ll try, but I make no promises,” I say with a pointed look at Ben. “About anything.”
“Even if MJ doesn’t agree to go to the festival right away, we still have a few weeks to try to convince her,” Willow adds with a diplomatic shrug.
“Stranger things have happened, right?” Ben smiles, but I catch a flicker of apprehension in his eyes.
“Speaking of strange things happening,” Lucy says, rising to her feet, her eyes laser focused on my mantle. “What the hell is that? Since when do you have plants? You’re like the grim reaper of plants.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. Of course, Lucy would spot the damn cactus Oliver got me. Why hadn’t I hidden it?
“Oh, um, yeah, I thought I’d give being a plant parent a try,” I say, heat rising up my neck and to my cheeks. “All those people on the internet make it look so appealing.”
Lucy whirls on me and narrows her eyes. “You’re lying.”
“I am not,” I insist, but it’s too late.
“You’re a terrible liar, Linds,” Ben says. “You wear your heart on your sleeve. And your face.” He waves his hand in a circle in front of him.
