Two

As Emmy expected, on Tuesday the shop was busy all day long. By closing time, she was tired. Even Carina looked a little weary,

but she had her date with Jeremy to look forward to, so she perked up toward the end of her shift. Normally Emmy loved decorating

the store for Christmas, but considering her current fatigue level, it would be a chore. Still, when Carina offered to cancel

her date and stay and help, Emmy refused.

"Absolutely not," she said, practically shoving her daughter out the door. She flipped the Open sign to Closed and faced the

tower of decorations in front of the counter.

Carina had brought down the ten bins of decorations Emmy kept stored in her 1940s-era apartment. It was a cozy, old-fashioned

two-bedroom that was a product of its time, down to the radiator heating. Emmy didn't mind living there. One, it saved her

money on rent because she owned the building. And two, she had less than a two-minute commute to work.

But there were times she was a little lonely, especially after Carina moved out five months ago. Now she lived in a rental

house with two of her friends from high school. She wasn't far, just on the other side of Mistletoe, only a fifteen-minute

drive away. Still, Emmy had to hide her tears when Carina had left, feeling more than a little selfish about wishing her daughter

would stay.

Emmy shook off the memory. What was it about Christmas that always had her thinking about the past? Particularly the pain ful memories? Yesterday she not only thought about Josh—ugh!—but after her run-in with Kieran O'Neill, she couldn't stop thinking about him either. Or her wigwagging stomach.

She walked to the stack of décor bins and opened one. It was filled with garland. She picked up the silver garland on the

top, looped it around her neck, and unpacked the rest of the box while "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree" played in the background.

But her mind was still on Kieran. How in the world could he be so good-looking at forty-three years old, while she resembled

a dimpled potato? She'd always had a roundish figure, and no amount of diet and exercise except for near starvation could

change that, and she had tried everything over the years. But while she might be round, she was in good shape and watched

what she ate... most of the time. Christmas was always a weakness.

Kieran was my weakness too.

She stared at the string of garland in her hand. Even Sheryl didn't know how deep Emmy's crush on her brother had been. When

he'd asked her to his senior prom, she didn't believe he was serious. It was only when he admitted he couldn't find another

date on short notice that she agreed to go.

"You're a good friend," he'd said. And if she had any doubt about how completely in the friend zone she was, he'd even given her the clichéd light

punch on the shoulder.

Still, they'd had a great time, despite him leaving her alone several times to dance with other girls, and that included all

the slow dances. Again, no problem. She knew her place. She was just glad to be there.

Yet something had changed when he dropped her off at home. She expected him to simply let her out of his car in the driveway, but he walked her to the porch instead. He even lingered there, devastatingly handsome in his white shirt and gold vest with a real bow tie, not a clip-on. He'd left his black jacket in the car, and his tie was undone and hanging loosely around his unbuttoned collar. He'd worn his thick black hair long back then, almost shoulder length. He literally could have been a romance cover model if he'd wanted to.

"Hope you had a good time," he'd said, soft light glowing on his face and highlighting his constant five o'clock shadow.

"I did." She smiled, telling him the truth. "Thanks for letting me be your date."

He tilted his head, his dark eyes turning smoky. "Thanks for letting me take you."

She couldn't respond, standing like a statue while trying to focus on what he was saying, not on the weird and pleasant feeling

that he might, just might , kiss her. She had no idea why, only that her stomach was wigging and wagging like a sailboat in an ocean storm. At this

point a peck on the cheek would do.

Suddenly he backed away. "See ya on Monday."

Before she could say a word, he was already in his mom's Grand Cherokee and revving the engine. A second later he was peeling

out of her driveway.

Emmy's cheeks flamed. That was almost twenty-six years ago, and she felt a little foolish about assuming he would kiss her.

Clearly that had been more hope than reality. And afterward nothing had changed between them. She was Sheryl's friend, and

he was about to graduate high school. Shortly after that, he left Mistletoe and the country.

She touched her hot face and shook her head. What was the big deal? Everyone had high school crushes. They were a rite of

adolescent passage. It wasn't like she'd mourned over Kieran like he was a lost love. At least not for too long.

"Get back to work," she muttered, forcing herself to focus on the daunting task in front of her. She had to finish decorating before tomorrow, or else she would be super behind. Emmy turned up the music and set out to enjoy herself. minutes later Mariah Carey's singular voice belting "All I Want for Christmas Is You" played through the shop. She almost had to laugh at the irony. There was a time when all she wanted was Kieran. Not anymore.

And even if she did, there was zero chance he would want her. He was adventurous, and she liked being at home. She'd never

leave Mistletoe for anything other than a vacation, and he couldn't wait to get out of the country. They were too different.

For all she knew he already had a girlfriend, or even a wife, although Sheryl probably would have said something to Emmy about

having a sister-in-law. Kieran had always been out of her league and mostly out of her life. That would never change.

***

By Tuesday evening, Kieran needed a break.

As expected, he spent most of the day with his mother. She was the main reason he'd returned to Mistletoe, and he planned

to spend as much time with her as possible. Although she was almost seventy, she was as active as ever.

He accompanied her to her weekly Tuesday morning breakfast at the Mistletoe Diner, where she met with members of her bridge

club, every one of them female and a senior citizen. Over tea, French toast, and grits—he hadn't had grits since he'd left

town—he caught up on local gossip and the ladies' maladies. The list was extensive and, unfortunately, detailed. Obviously,

there was an age where collective commiseration with friends trumped discretion.

Afterward he took Mum to the mall, about an hour away, so she could shop for Christmas presents for his nephews, and he picked

up a few things to add to the gifts he'd brought them from Ireland. Then it was back to the house so she could have lunch

and watch her soap operas.

Mum was dozing off in the middle of the last show when her landline rang. His mother had a cell phone, but she rarely kept it charged. She stirred a little in her recliner as he quietly rose from the sofa to answer it in the kitchen. "Hello?"

"Kieran?" Sheryl's voice came through the antiquated receiver.

He braced himself, not sure if she would be happy that he was in Mistletoe or mad that he kept it from her. "Hi, Sheryl."

"Kieran Connor O'Neill! How dare you not tell me you were coming home?"

He pulled the receiver away from his ear. He'd gotten his fair share of her hot Irish temper over the years, and most of the

time he deserved it. "I wanted to surprise you and Mum," he said, lowering his voice. "She's asleep right now."

"Oh, I forgot Reckless and Yearning was on right now. I was just calling to let her know our flight was delayed out of Cancún so we won't be home until late

tonight."

"Sorry about that."

"It's all right. The boys are so tired from vacation, they're falling asleep in the waiting area. And by ‘boys' I also mean

Ben."

Kieran grinned, imagining his nephews and brother-in-law sprawled and snoring in their chairs.

"I can't believe you finally came home," she said, her voice a little thick. "I didn't think you'd ever step foot in Mistletoe

again."

He didn't either. But after the initial barrage of memories, he was settling in. Funny how quickly he was starting to feel

at home when he'd been gone so long.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why what?"

"Why are you here?"

Kieran rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't want to miss Mum's seventieth birthday."

"How did you find out about the party?"

"Party?"

"Yes," she said, sounding hurried. "We're starting to board, so I have to go. The party is a surprise, so don't spill the beans."

"I won't—"

"See you tomorrow."

She clicked off, and Kieran hung up the phone. He smiled. A surprise birthday party for Mom sounded like a fun time.

After talking to Sheryl, he went back to the living room just as Mum woke up. Had she heard him talking to Sheryl?

But all she said was, "Ready for bingo?"

His mother might be raring to go, but Kieran wasn't. "I think I'll beg off tonight. I'm terrible at bingo."

She eyed him through her small silver-framed glasses. "When was the last time you played?"

"Uh..." He had no idea. Probably when he was a kid. He'd never been a fan of bingo even then.

"I'll give you a night off." She got up from the chair and patted his shoulder. "You're free to join me and Betsy for supper,

though. St. Agnes Church always provides a delicious meal before the games start."

He considered it for a minute, then shook his head. No offense to the good people at St. Agnes, but he'd had his fill of social

activities for the day. "I'll make a sandwich here."

"Suit yourself." She grinned. "Hope I didn't wear you out too much, son."

"I can barely keep up with ya," he said, only half joking. Truth be told, he wasn't used to the hustle and bustle, not to

mention all the people. Some of them he knew, particularly at the diner. But at the mall he didn't recognize anyone.

He'd always considered himself an extrovert, but Castle O'Neill had been situated in a small hamlet in Cork with a tiny population,

probably less than Mistletoe. During his travels in the UK and Europe, he went at his own slower pace.

But less than an hour after Mum left, Kieran was second-guessing himself. Not about bingo but about the meal. A sandwich didn't appeal, and when he searched through his mother's pantry and fridge, he didn't find much to eat. What he did find was Mum's schedule on the side of the fridge, and from the looks of it she ate out more than she dined in.

He got in the car and headed for the diner again. He'd learned from one of Mum's friends that the eatery had changed hands

a few times over the years, but the menu was basically the same as it had been when he was a kid.

When he walked inside, the restaurant wasn't busy, and he was directed by a sign near the door to seat himself. He picked

a table near the middle of the diner.

"I heard you were back in town."

He looked up and saw the waitress, a thin woman with bright red lipstick and his mother's energy level. Obviously she knew

him, but he had no idea who she was. He glanced at her name tag and gaped. "Cindy?"

"Yep." She handed him a menu and grinned. "Bet you didn't think I'd still be working here."

He sure didn't. "How long?"

"Thirty years." She pointed with pride at a little gold apple pin on the white lapel of her pale blue uniform. "Thirty looong

years."

"Congratulations." Kieran took the menu. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised that word gets around."

"That's life in a small town. Everyone knows everybody's business. I'll be back in a sec to get your order."

"Thanks." He perused the menu, and he was suddenly hit with nostalgia again. When his father was alive, his family went to the diner together on Friday evenings for the Mistletoe Friday Fish Fry. Those were some of his favorite times with Dad. They both loved fish and would often try to outeat each other, with Kieran losing until seventh grade, when he'd had a growth spurt and ate almost everything in sight. Good times. He'd had many of them growing up.

Cindy appeared again, pulling a pencil from her cloud of faded red hair and poising it over a small pad. "What'll you have?"

It wasn't Friday, but he decided to order the fish and chips anyway. After she left, his phone buzzed, and he pulled out his

cell to look at the screen. Sheryl again, only this time she was texting him.

Sheryl: Now that you're back, I'm going to put you to work.

Kieran: I'm at your service.

He read as his always-organized sister outlined her plans and gave him party prep tasks, which were mostly picking up stuff

and keeping Mum occupied, and he'd already planned to do the latter. The hardest part would be keeping the party a secret.

Sheryl: Emmy volunteered to help decorate the community center with us the night before.

His attention perked up at Emmy's name. He'd continued to think about her off and on last night. And a few times today too.

He kept remembering her smile before she went into the post office. Warm, bright, and still pretty.

Sheryl stopped texting, and Kieran put his phone back in his pocket as Cindy showed up with his food. The diner fare was as

tasty as he remembered, almost rivaling the fish and chips he'd eaten in Ireland and Great Britain over the years. During

his meal, his former junior high school history teacher stopped by the table to exchange pleasantries. Kieran tried not to

marvel at how old she was, which reminded him of how old he was. "Time flying" wasn't just a cliché; it was the truth.

He paid his bill, left the diner, and walked out into a brightly lit downtown Mistletoe. Kieran paused, marveling at the shiny, picturesque display that would rival any TV Christmas movie. He'd seen the decorations during the day, but they didn't compare to the sparkling splendor he was witnessing now.

Abandoning his plan to return home, he stuck his hands into the pockets of his coat and strolled down the street, enjoying

the Christmas cheer. A few people were walking around downtown, but the diner was the only business open after five.

He passed by a building with a For Sale sign in the window, then stopped at the end of the street in front of Mistletoe Antiques.

He had developed an affinity for antiques when he was refurbishing the castle.

The sign on the door said Closed, but the lights were on, and he couldn't resist peering through the large picture window

in front of the shop. To his surprise he saw Emmy Banks pulling Christmas decorations out of a plastic bin, silver garland

draped around her neck. Almost two hours past closing time, and she was still working.

She was removing the Christmas decorations in a deliberate manner, and a stack of similar bins sat nearby. From his vantage

point it didn't look like there were any decorations in the shop, so he reckoned she was in the midst of bedecking her store.

As he looked inside, he didn't see anyone else there. Perhaps she could use some help. He knocked on the window.

Emmy startled, putting her hand over her chest.

"Sorry, lass," he said, unsure if she could hear him through the glass. He jabbed his thumb toward the door.

Her eyes grew wide for a moment, then she stood and went to the door. "Hi," she said, appearing a little confused. "Did Sheryl

send you?"

"Nay, why?"

"She works here." Emmy frowned, hugging her shoulders. "Didn't she tell you?"

Kieran remembered her mentioning in the past that she worked at a store, but he didn't recall the name or where it was.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Emmy asked.

He could see her breath as she talked, and she was wearing an emerald-green cardigan and slim black pants. Definitely not

enough protection from the cold. "I was out for a walk and... Do you need some help?" At her bewildered look he added,

"I noticed you gettin' the Christmas decorations out."

She glanced over her shoulder and then back at him again. "I'm running a little late this year. But I've got it all handled."

"Ah. Well then." His ego pricked a little, and that was puzzling. It wasn't like he'd asked her out and she turned him down.

Wait. Was she married? He hadn't noticed a ring on her hand. Then again, he hadn't exactly looked. But if she did have a husband,

the bloke might not appreciate Kieran being alone with Emmy, even though they were... friends. Or had been. "Guess I'll

see you later, then." He turned to walk away.

"Kieran?"

He faced her again.

"How about some hot chocolate before you go? It's so cold out tonight."

He smiled. "That would be grand, lass. Real grand."