Page 128 of The Holiday Makeover

What words were there to describe how I felt about her? It seemed impossible to put the depth of my love and grief and gratitude into anything as small as language.

But I supposed I should at least try.

Tate, Veronica, and Dominic made sure everyone had a glass of eggnog—spiked for those who wished.

But it had to be eggnog because Coco believed everyone should have at least one glass during the holidays, even if they detested it.

I might have fallen into that category.

But I could never break that to Coco.

Once everyone had some of the disgusting stuff—I mean, some of the holiday goodness—I stood in front of the Christmas tree in the parlor.

The tree, which now had several wrapped presents tucked underneath it, as if Santa had come early.

I honestly had no idea where they had all come from.

But I would have to solve that mystery later.

With Tate still by my side, I began with, “Thank you all for coming.” Profound, I know.

A hush settled over the house, and everyone turned toward me.

But I was so choked up, I could hardly get out the next words.

“Coco would have loved this so much,” I said, my voice already wobbling. “Just as I know how much she loved all of you. Even if she didn’t know you, that wouldn’t have stopped her from loving you.”

That earned me an appreciative chuckle from the room.

“That’s what made her so amazing,” I said. “Her ability to love.”

Those dang tears were back in full force.

Tate squeezed my hand.

I gripped his even tighter.

“And it wasn’t because she thought loving someone was easy. Coco knew better than anyone that it wasn’t. But she believed the best things—the most important things—didn’t come easy.”

I looked up at Tate, then back at the room full of people who had loved her.

“She believed they were worth fighting for.”

A few people nodded, and it seemed like that sentiment settled over everyone in the room. These were the faces of the people she had loved, helped, fed, teased, laughed with, and cried with.

“And I think she would want me to say that you are all worth fighting for.”

I raised my glass of eggnog. “To Coco.”

“To Coco,” everyone said in unison, filling the house with . . . love.

I took a sip of the eggnog and tried not to grimace as I swallowed it.

I had to say, though, Eden’s version wasn’t half bad.

The best I’d ever tasted, actually.

Once the glasses of eggnog had been consumed, the noise level cranked up again as conversations picked back up and people continued to offer me their condolences.