Day three of Christmas magic is on! I have a special plan for us tonight. Be ready at six and dress warmly. #ThirtyDaysOfChristmasMagic
She couldn’t help but smile.
Mauve
I’ll be ready.
She slid her phone across the table. “How can I resist this guy?”
“I don’t know why you would,” Reese said after reading the text exchange. “Mauve, please, just let yourself be happy. Enjoy every moment, not like they’re fleeting but like you’re building something that lasts. You’ll be so in love with each other by the end of December, you’ll be ready to make some hard decisions. Both of you.”
Mauve closed her eyes for a moment, an image of Jason on the floor with Ollie playing in her mind. When she opened them, Reese was watching her, a concerned glimmer in her pretty eyes.
“Am I going to be okay?” Mauve asked, teary again.
Reese smiled. “Yes, you’re going to be okay. Trust me.”
Trust. That was all Mauve could do at this point. Trust herself. Trust Jason.
And wear something warm for their outing.
Mauve stoodat her front window in a cream cable-knit sweater and jeans, her hair down, parka and mittens already laid out on the bench by the door. When she saw Jason’s headlights approaching, she pulled on her parka and stepped out onto the porch, stomach fluttering like a school girl going to her first dance.
He climbed out of his car, as she came down the steps, wearing a navy wool peacoat and a gray scarf wound loosely around his neck and a dark knit hat pulled down over his ears. A movie star, she thought. He looks like a movie star.
At the bottom of the stairs he kissed her, his cold nose brushing her cheek.
“Hello, beautiful,” Jason said.
“Hello, yourself.”
He took her gloved hand and opened the passenger car door for her with a little flourish. “Your chariot awaits.”
“Where are we going?” she asked as he took his place behind the wheel.
“It’s a surprise.” Jason grinned, looking about eight years old for a moment. “You’ll never guess it, so don’t bother trying.”
“How intriguing.”
The roads were freshly plowed and salted, with snowbanks high on either side. He turned down Maple Street, then to Rabbit Run Road. Were they heading toward the Hayes family farm?
“Are we going to a cookie decorating night at Grace and Walter’s?” Mauve had heard about the epic cookie nights from Reese. They sounded like sticky chaos. She’d love to go to one, although it wasn’t exactly romantic.
“No, we are not decorating cookies.”
“Did you ever participate when you were a kid? At your aunt’s, I mean.”
“Sure. The tradition started when we were kids. My mom and Aunt Grace used to team up back then. Between my four cousins and Roan and me, it was always a scene. Can you imagine six little boys, all fighting over the red frosting?”
“Who was the best?” Mauve asked.
“Strangely enough, me. I had a knack for precision. The others were too impatient. And they kept eating the cookies before they were finished.”
“That just sounds like so much fun.”
“Did your mom bake cookies at the holidays?” Jason asked.
“She did, yeah. But I don’t remember it ever being an event. My sister and I might have decorated a few gingerbread men every year, but the memories aren’t vivid.”
