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Her gaze shifted to the kitten-themed calendar hanging on the fridge, where December’s adorable, jingle bell-adorned mascot was peeking out of a brightly colored gift box. Thirteen days. That’s all the time they had to come up with an amazing, new activity to draw in a crowd and collect money for next year’s books and yarn. And purchase any necessary supplies for said activity. And advertise it. And—
“Hey, Mom?”
Mia, reaching for her mother’s favorite wooden spoon, twisted to find Brooklyn peering in from the hall. “What is it, sweetie?”
Alex mumbled something in the other room, and Brooklyn looked back with a laugh. “Um, remember how you always said you wanted to get a real tree but Dad kept telling you no?”
She arched a brow at her daughter. Where on earth hadthatcome from?
“Yes…”
“Well, now might be a good time to think about getting one.”
“What?”
Mia shut off the stove, moved the cocoa to a cool burner, and hurried for the living room. There, amid a jumble of fake evergreen branches, stood Alex, his sleeves rolled up and face red. Upon seeing her, he shifted the section of tree in his arms behind him with a grimace.
“I’m so sorry. I-I couldn’t find the directions.”
At her stunned silence, he hung his head and lifted the tree’s middle section into view. The top portion looked normal enough until he spun the trunk in his hand. That’s when she spied two of its longest branches dangling in unnatural directions.
Mangled, unnatural directions.
Mia gasped softly. “Alex, what did you do tomy tree?”
He offered her an embarrassed grimace, which sent Brooklyn doubling over with laughter. The sight gave Mia pause. How long had it been since she’d seen Brooklyn laugh so hard? Despite the calamity unfolding in her living room, Mia found herself grinning.
“Does this mean I’m not in the doghouse?” Alex gave her a wary look.
Mia sighed. “To be honest, you probably did us a favor. I always hated that tree but refused to get another one until this one gave out. I guess it’s time was just prematurely up.”
Alex dropped the branches and stepped forward, looking genuinely repentant. “I’ll replace the tree, I promise. Any kind you want.”
“Any kind?”
She looked from the mess of fake evergreen fringe to Brooklyn, who’d never known the magic of having a real tree. Of how the scent of fresh evergreen could fill your home and make itfeellike Christmas. Growing up, Mia’s family always went to a Christmas tree farm outside of town, wandered through their collection, then chopped one down, and drove it home. They made an entire day out of the pilgrimage and the decorating that followed. It was one of her favorite childhood traditions.
Maybe it wasn’t too late for it to become one of Brooklyn’s, too.
Mia’s gaze shifted to their mantle clock. Yes, there would be time if they hurried.
“Then I think it’s time we paid Aunt Del a visit.”
The trio piled into her vehicle, still warm from their failed trip to see Max, and headed downtown once again. They arrived at Oak Barrel Farms’ makeshift Christmas tree lot fifteen minutes before closing. Thankfully, a parking space near its orange plastic snow fence entryway was empty.
Mia stepped out of the car and drew in a deep breath as she watched Brooklyn head toward the entrance. Ah, freshly cut pine. Was there any scent that encapsulated Christmas better?
She scanned the lot and was relieved to see it empty, save for an older couple making their way to the small white tent that served as the checkout station. As they drew closer, she saw that it was Mr. and Mrs. Rivers, a beautiful evergreen wreath in the missus’ hands. Brooklyn continued ahead, but Alex stayed back, sticking close to Mia. To him, this space probably looked like any other small-town tree lot. To Bourbon Falls, though, it was so much more.
Once upon a time, this lot was home to a small, one-story wooden building that had served as many things over the years: a dime store, a flower shop, a tobacco store, a barber shop. Fire claimed the building in the early 2000s, leaving the beloved lot looking forlorn. At least it did until a local family cleaned it up and set up a tiny ice cream stand on it one summer. With its central location and delicious, inexpensive offerings, the stand was an instant hit. To this day, in the warmer months, the lot was home to the town favorite Frosty Falls, and in the winter was rented to Oak Barrel Farms for their Christmas tree sales.
“Aunt Del, you’re never going to believe it!” Brooklyn cried, jogging up to give her aunt a hug.
Del pecked a kiss to her niece’s cheek. “What’s that, Little B?”
“Alex killed our tree!”
Beside Mia, Alex hung his head anew. Mia couldn’t help but laugh.
