Chapter 13

Tess

The strung Christmas lights twinkle across my living room as I fluff the last decorative pillow on the couch. My family’s heading over to my downtown place before we take on the Christmas festival in the town square.

I give the room another once-over, plucking a rogue strand of tinsel off the floor. It glitters in my hand as I chuckle. Shit, tinsel is like the confetti of the holiday season, showing up where you least expect it. Clothes are strewn on the chair in the corner, and I gather them up with a sweep of my arm, stuffing them into the closet.

Authenticity is at my core. That's what moves me. It's why I'm here, in this small town full of big hearts and bigger skies, instead of the bustling city that never knew my name.

My phone buzzes, and I snatch it up to see a text.

Lucas: 5 minutes away!

Me: Thanks for the warning!

The doorbell chimes, and I fling the door open. There they are, all bundled up in scarves and puffy jackets.

"Hello!" I exclaim, as they welcome me with all smiles.

"Look at you!" Mom's eyes twinkle with that same poison ivy green as mine, scanning me up and down. "Thanks for letting us park here and going to the festival with us. I know you had to take the night off of work to be with us."

"I know this is something that you and Dad really like to do. It’s become our tradition since we moved here a few years ago," I reply.

Dad's mustache tickles my cheek as he leans in to squeeze me tight. "Your place looks great, Tess."

"Thanks, Dad." I step back, ushering them inside. "I even cleaned under the bed. Can you believe it?"

"Miracle on Main Street," my brother quips, and laughter erupts among us.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. The festival awaits!" I announce, sweeping my hand toward the door like a game show hostess, my other habits of avoiding undergarments and the disdain for monotony suddenly feeling like trivial matters. This is about family and festivities.

We spill onto the sidewalk and follow Heartville's Christmas to the town square.

"Can you smell that?" I ask, inhaling deeply to smell the scents of pine needles and cinnamon. "That's Christmas in Heartville for you."

"Sure beats city smog," Lucas agrees, his arm slung around my shoulders in a casual side-hug.

"Isn't that whatshisname... the lawyer?" Mom nudges me, nodding discreetly toward a man decked out in a sweater so festive it could double as a Christmas tree skirt. "You know, since the cowboy doesn’t seem to be working out. This guy was asking about you, Tess."

"Maybe," I hedge, feeling a tug in my chest, the one that comes when they start setting life's menu and forget I'm the one who has to eat the meal. Parker's image, all easy smiles and rough edges, makes a lump form in my throat, and I swallow down the conflict bubbling up inside.

"Good prospect," Dad adds, giving me a wink that's supposed to be conspiratorial but feels more like a trap.

"Sure, if you're into tinsel neckties," I murmur, scanning the booths for an escape route.

"Levi!" My brother's voice booms over the festival chatter towards the town mechanic.

"Hey, buddy!" Levi grins, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. He's got Beck, his little carbon copy, hoisted on his shoulders.

"Fixed Tess's car up real good, didn't ya?" Lucas claps him on the back, and Levi's modest nod is the picture of understated pride.

"Runs like a dream," I chime in.

"Better than any shiny new model," Levi agrees.

"Speaking of models," Mom interjects, throwing a pointed glance back at Mr. Lawyer Sweater. "That one's quite the—"

“Dad, is it hot chocolate time!” Becks interrupts with a holler.

"Sure thing, buddy!" Levi says. “You all heard the man; we’ve got important business to tend to. Please excuse us.”

We laugh as they depart, but now I really want a cup of hot chocolate now also.

“Hey, let’s go get some,” I suggest to my family. Luckily, this is one thing we agree on, and we follow Levi and Becks.

At the vendor’s booth, I grab a couple of steaming mugs of hot chocolate and hand one to my brother as we step aside, away from the festive bustle and the prying ears of our family.

"Spill it, Tessy," he says, using the nickname only he can get away with.

"Mom and Dad are at it again with their parade of Mr. Perfects. It's like they've got a lineup of Ken dolls, and they're just waiting for me to pick one," I confide, blowing on my hot chocolate before taking a cautious sip.

"Ah, the joys of parental matchmaking," he chuckles. "You know you don't have to follow their script, right?"

"Easy for you to say. You're the golden boy," I retort with a nudge of my elbow.

"Look, Tess," he starts, then pauses, choosing his words. "You've always been the wild Mustang. Untamable. They know that deep down, even if they pretend otherwise."

"Untamable, huh?" I smirk. The truth is, the thought of disappointing them ties my stomach in knots. I take another sip.

"Besides," he continues, "since when do you care about anyone's opinion? Last I checked, Tess Daily does what Tess Daily wants."

"Guess I'm just tired of the tug-of-war." My voice drops, almost lost in the noise of the festival. "Between being myself and being who they want."

"Who do you want?" he asks, not skipping a beat.

It's my turn to pause. Images flash through my mind: Parker's intense gaze, his playful smile, but then the way my heart races at the brush of a leather cuff around my wrist.

"Someone who gets me. Who doesn't just tolerate my..." The words hang between us while my cheeks flush with the heat that's not from the drink or the cold.

"Then go after that someone. Screw expectations." He bumps my shoulder.

"Thanks," I respond. "You’re right, fuck it." I set my mug down on a nearby table with a defiant click.

I march up to Mom and Dad, where they're huddled near the mistletoe-covered gazebo, their heads close together like two conspiring elves. My boots crunch on the frosted grass, each step hard and determined. I can't remember a time when my heart thumped this loud.

"Mom, Dad, we need to talk," I say.

They turn to me. "What's wrong, honey?" Mom asks, her sweet voice laced with concern that only makes the ember of defiance in me flare hotter.

"About Parker," I start, my voice steady even though my insides quiver. "I know you are ready for me to find someone steady and secure."

"Sweetheart, we just want what's best for you—" Mom tries, reaching out, but I step back.

"Best for me? Because what's best for me is someone who gets me, who doesn't try to fence me in. That's Parker. These things take time, you know?" I need them to understand. "Look, I love you both, but I'm not your little girl anymore. I'm wild and free, and if Parker's willing to ride alongside me, then that's my choice."

Silence.

Then, Dad clears his throat, looking anywhere but at me. "You really care about him, don't you?"

"Yes, I sure do," I admit.

Mom's hand finds Dad's. She looks at him, then at me, her eyes softening. "We just want to protect you. And…" Her voice cracks, and she swallows hard. "Maybe we need to trust your heart."

"Trust goes both ways," I whisper.

Dad nods slowly. "We'll try, Tess. We love you, honey."

"Thank you," I breathe out.

"Your happiness is what matters," Mom interjects. She reaches out, touching my wrist gently. "Even if we don't understand all your choices."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Besides," she adds with a little quirk of her lips, "it's not like when we were young, we didn't have our... adventures."

"Mom!" I gasp, wide-eyed but laughing.

Dad laughs also. "Let's just say, your mother's always been good at... roping in the wild ones."

"Elliot!" Mom swats at him playfully, cheeks blooming a shade of Santa's suit.

"Alright, alright," I wave them off, still giggling. "I get it. No more details needed."

"Good," Dad says, nodding, "because there are some things you just can't unhear."

"Or undo," Mom whispers, winking at me, and I feel my cheeks heat up.