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“I was worried the letter had gotten lost,” Mr. DeWitt said.
“How did you track me down?”
Mr. DeWitt laughed as though that was a silly question. “I assume, since you’re here, you’d like to hear the stipulations surrounding your aunt’s inheritance?”
“That’s the thing,” Maya said. “I didn’t even know I had an Aunt Veronica Albright. I’ve never heard of her.”
Mr. DeWitt raised his shoulders. “Your mother was born Bethany Albright, was she not?”
It was strange to hear her mother’s name spoken by someone she’d never met before. “She was.”
“That’s Veronica Albright’s younger sister,” Mr. DeWitt said simply.
“You’re aware that my mother died?”
“Forty-two years ago,” Mr. DeWitt said. “Yes. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Maya swallowed the lump in her throat and decided this wasn’t the right time to bring up Veronica’s lack of care for her as a child. “Okay. The stipulations. I’m ready for them.”
“Very well,” Mr. DeWitt said. “I don’t know if you are aware of the traditions here in Hollygrove.”
“I’m not. Never been here before.”
“Every year, we have a Christmas Festival,” Mr. DeWitt went on. “It’s held the first weekend of December. And unfortunately for us here in Hollygrove, it’s ordinarily planned by Veronica Albright herself.”
Maya winced. She had a hunch where this was going, and she didn’t like it.
“The first task to receive your inheritance is to plan the festival,” Mr. DeWitt went on. “Veronica says your mother, her sister, was a big believer in the magic of Christmas. She suspects she passed that on to you.”
Maya wanted to laugh. She gritted her teeth and blinked at him with disbelief. “That’s the thing,” Maya stuttered. “I’m not a big believer in Christmas. I’m more of a…” She struggled to find the word. “My daughter calls me a Christmas cynic.”
Mr. DeWitt’s eyes widened as though she were a creature in the zoo he’d never seen before. “I see. Well, that makes things interesting, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t think I can do it,” Maya said. “And I’m certainly no organizer. I once planned a birthday party for myself and put the wrong date on the invitations.”
Mr. DeWitt didn’t seem one for laughter. “With the completion of the first task, you will receive the keys to the Albright Mansion and instructions for the second task. If you can’t complete the first task, her entire inheritance will be given to charity in the event of her death, and the mansion will be sold.”
Maya remembered the current state of her bank account; it was pathetic. She scrambled. “I’m sure I can figure something out. I just need a bit of help, maybe. Someone to tell me how things work at the festival. I don’t want to plan it all wrong.”
There was a knock on the doorframe. Maya jumped in her chair and turned back to find a man smiling in the doorway. He had blond hair and a dark-blond beard, and his green eyes exuded humor and kindness.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said.
“Brad,” Mr. DeWitt greeted him. “I’m just finishing up here.”
“I’m early,” Brad said. “Don’t worry about me. But I hate to admit I was eavesdropping. And you know me, Thad. I love that Christmas Festival to bits. It’s my favorite time of the year.”
Maya’s heart fluttered. What was he doing? What was this?
“Maybe I could show you the ropes,” Brad said, his eyes locked with hers. “Veronica had a firm grip on the planning, of course, but she asked for my help from time to time.”
“You have a window into the magic,” Maya said.
“Something like that,” Brad affirmed. “What do you say?”
Mr. DeWitt laughed. “This is my friend, Brad Turner,” he explained. “He’s a teacher at the local elementary school, and it sometimes feels like he doesn’t know how to stop teaching at the end of the day.”
Brad blushed. “I promise I won’t be too annoying. But my offer still stands.”
