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“My sweet baby!” I cry. “Is that for me?”
“What, Daddy doesn’t get a flower?” Matt, pushing the stroller, asks in mock horror.
“Take!” Joy stamps her tiny purple shoe on the ground. “Mama!”
I laugh and shrug at Matt. “Sorry,” I tell him as I take the proffered blossom and tuck it behind my ear. “Mama wins again.”
Mama definitely won with the first word; “Daddy” wasn’t even in her lexicon until after “bath” and “puppy.” I brag about this often to Matt. He always, however, is the requested bedtime story teller, although I always get to sing the lullabies.
I was worried about being a mother, but as soon as Joy was born, all my fears disappeared. She was beautiful and perfect from the start, grinning at us with all the enthusiasm of her name. Calling her “Joy” was an easy choice because Matt’s mom is also named Joy too. As a result, we’ve started calling Grandma Joy “Joy the First” and she loves it. It was Matt’s mother, after all, who brought us together. She certainly deserves some credit for that.
It was Joy the First, too, who brought all the Mistletoe brothers together with their brides. It was a wild idea from the start, but miraculously, it worked. All of us got married by Christmas, the brothers were able to purchase the town, and sweet Snow Valley was saved.
“Can you believe that you technically own this park?” I ask Matt as we continue our walk. A cute dog and her owner walk by, and Joy screams “Puppy!” with all the gusto of a child who doesn’t yet have one of her own.
Matt shrugs and aims a sideways grin at me. “And all because you decided to marry me.”
“Well, and because all the other ladies agreed to marry your brothers too,” I say. “Although I can never remember everyone’s names. I basically went from being an only child to being a sibling in a family of twelve within six months!”
Matt laughs. “Yeah, it’s a miracle, isn’t it?”
I smile with delight as we exit the park and walk to Moose Tracks, a nearby bar. I’ve been singing here every Tuesday and Friday night, and am working on getting an official band together to back me up. The crowds were modest at first, but they’ve grown with every performance. Kids aren’t technically allowed inside, but sometimes Matt will stand with Joy at the very back, and she’ll wave her little arms in glee watching her mama sing. I’m so grateful that Matt is such a great dad, and that he and Joy get along so beautifully even when I’m not around.
“Hey, Joey!” I call to the bartender as I head inside to pick up my paycheck. It’s early enough that no one minds if Joy stands on a barstool and requests some apple juice. It’s one of the perks of living in a small town.
“Hey, Jenna!” he says, waving at Matt and I. “Jenna, you actually had someone call here asking for you a little bit ago. They didn’t have your number. You might want to give them a call back.”
“Who is it?” I ask, but Joey just shakes his head and grins.
“I wrote down the number and put it on the bulletin board in the back,” he says. “Call ‘em now, okay?”
I head to the back and punch the number into my phone confusedly. Who would call the bar to try to get a hold of me, especially when I’m only there two nights a week?
“Hello?” a male voice on the other end says.
“Um, hi,” I say. “My name is Jenna Cook. I’m calling from Moose Tracks. I heard there was someone looking for me?”
“I sure was,” the man replies, his tone immediately warming up. “My name is Chris Jones. I’m a producer from Greenleaf, just a few towns over. I saw you sing a few nights ago and was blown away.”
“Oh, man,” I stutter, blushing at the compliment. “Thank you so much. That means a lot to me.”
“I was wondering, Jenna, if you’d like to be a guest on WNBX Hearts. We’re a radio show that showcases local talent. If you have any songs recorded, feel free to send those our way, too. We’d love to promote you as much as we can.”
My jaw drops open; I nearly have to push it back up with my hand. “Um,” I say eloquently, and then manage to continue, “Yes! That would be incredible. I would really love that.”
“Well, good,” Chris says. “I’ll give you a call back in a few days and we’ll talk details. Okay?”
“Okay!” I’m smiling so hard that my face hurts. “Great! Thank you so much.”
He hangs up and I run to the front of the bar, where Joy is contentedly sipping her apple juice and Matt is chatting with Joey. They both shoot me knowing looks; Joey must have told him what the mysterious caller was asking about. When I unceremoniously burst into happy tears, Matt crosses to hold me in his arms.
