She gave me a hug and said, “Have I mentioned how cute your house is?” She glanced around. “I couldn’t create this much charm if I tried. And trust me, I have.”
I laughed. “I love your house though.” She and Fletcher lived in this gorgeous farmhouse outside of town with their four daughters.
“Me too,” she said, a happy gleam in her eye.
“I remember getting ready for prom with you that year you went with him,” I said.
Liv’s cheeks grew red. “I’m sure I was so cringy.”
Laughing, I replied, “You were the coolest. At least you didn’t have to figure out how to accessorize a headset.”
“True.” She laughed.
I shook my head. “You were so excited, and you said, ‘This could be the night that changes everything for us.’”
“It had,” Liv said. “I just didn’t know it then.”
I smiled at the thought. It was crazy how things worked out. Hayes had told me while we were dating that he’d noticed me before but stayed away out of respect for my friendship with Liv—and because he just wasn’t ready for a relationship yet.
There was something to the “right person, right time” theory.
Fletcher walked over, handing Liv a paper mug with Christmas symbols drawn in Sharpie on the outside—somethingHayes and I had done the last few evenings while watching the holiday season ofBake Off. The cardboard sleeve even had a cute Santa sticker on it.
Fletcher said, “I’ll let you pick your ball.”
“Bomb,” Liv corrected with a giggle.
Fletcher rolled his eyes. “You’d think you’d outgrow giggling at body parts.”
“You’re the doctor, not me,” she tossed back and stuck her tongue out.
I smiled at my friend and her husband, grateful she had found her person, and that they were still so happy together. They walked over to the display of cocoa balls, already getting lower, and I heard people drinking their cocoa, talking about the different flavors and how good it tasted.
A heavy arm rested around my shoulders, and I looked over to see my dad. With a smile, I leaned my head over and rested it on his shoulder.
“Thanks for coming.”
He kissed the top of my head like he used to when I was a little girl. “Always, honey. I was looking around for projects to do while people are busy talking, but...”
I looked over at him. “But?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I can’t find any.”
A happy chuckle bubbled past my lips. “Hayes is on top of it.”
Dad gave a nod of approval. “Glad to see it.”
It wasn’t an overwhelming show of support or a confession of love for my spouse, but Dad was great at showing in little ways how he loved me—and Hayes.
He winked, then walked off to fill a mug with hot milk and a cocoa bomb. Then my husband—the love of my life—came to stand beside me, slipping an arm around my waist.
“Looks like it’s a success.”
I settled my hand over his hand that rested on my waist and squeezed. “Thank you for putting this together with me. I know it’s not your idea of a good time.”
At that, he took his hand away from my waist and turned me so I was facing him. He held my face in both his hands and looked me in the eye as he said, “Any time I’m with you is a good time. I mean it.”
I melted a little more. It was a miracle I wasn’t a living, breathing puddle at that point.
