Holiday Bucket List (Sweet Treat Novellas #10)

Chapter One

On the first day of December, Celeste Lagorio finished the last of the Thanksgiving leftovers, had her winter tires installed, and officially gave up on Christmas.

After working herself to exhaustion to create twenty-five years’ worth of perfect Yuletides for her children, Celeste was ready for a break.

Her youngest was away at college and not returning for the holidays.

The older two were married, living in different states, and planning to spend Christmas with their in-laws.

She would get her shopping done early, then give herself the rest of the month off. Two decades of single motherhood had certainly earned her that much.

The only thing left to decide was what she would do instead.

“A Caribbean cruise,” her neighbor Mike Durham suggested when she mentioned her plans to him over the hedge that night. “It would be warm.”

“I don’t want to travel over Christmas. The airports are always chaotic.” Celeste rubbed her mittened hands together to keep them warm.

“Then what about a big, extravagant Christmas present to yourself? Something you’ve always wanted but could never justify?”

There was some appeal in that, even if it wasn’t realistic. “And how would I justify it now if I couldn’t before?”

“You raised three children all by yourself, three children who did not grow up to be deadbeats, criminals, or politicians.”

She’d always liked Mike’s sense of humor. He’d moved in next door just as her oldest was leaving home. He’d been a burst of much-needed sunshine during a very stressful and overwhelming time in her life.

“I won’t argue that I don't completely deserve a ridiculously expensive gift from myself,” Celeste said. “But I’m paying for my daughter to attend a not inexpensive university. Fancy presents will have to wait a couple more years.”

“So no trips and no big presents. You’ve got to do something for your special Christmas.”

She rubbed at her arms. “How did ‘I give up on this holiday’ turn into ‘this is my special Christmas’?”

He motioned toward his house. “Come in and have some coffee before you freeze.”

“I won’t say no.” She stepped around the hedge and followed him up his front walk.

“Maybe your fancy Christmas present could be a really long extension cord for your electric blanket.” Mike held his front door open for her.

She stepped inside, sighing as the warm air hit her face.

She pulled off her mittens and knit cap, then laid them on the entryway table.

Mike tucked his cap under his arm, reaching up to smooth out his salt-and-pepper hair.

She didn’t need to wait for him to show her to the kitchen; she’d spent enough time at his house to have a stool at the island designated as her own.

She slipped onto it while he started a pot of coffee.

“What did you do the first Christmas you didn’t have any children at home?” she asked.

Mike leaned against the counter. “I broke my arm, remember? The back stairs were icy and I slipped.”

“I’d forgotten that.” He’d only lived there for about a year when that had happened.

“Breaking my arm is not exactly what I had in mind for my first-time-alone Christmas. Neither is something flashy and glamorous. The whole point is not to kill myself making the usual preparations. To just enjoy the holidays.”

Mike crossed to her side of the kitchen and leaned his forearms on the countertop, facing her.

“So which do you want more?” he asked. “A low-key or the Christmas of your dreams? Or maybe the Christmas of your dreams is low-key.”

“I guess I haven’t really thought this through. What I did at Christmastime was always about the kids and what would make them happy.”

“What about before that? What did you want for Christmas before they were born?”

“Tickets to a Destiny’s Child concert.”

He laughed out loud, his dark eyes dancing with mirth, and she couldn’t help but join in.

His laugh was like that. So many times in the years since she’d met him, he’d managed to help her smile through struggles and laugh at even the most difficult moments.

She’d never been more grateful for a neighbor, for a friend, in her life.

“Well, you're not going to see Destiny’s Child in concert now,” he said. “But we might be able to find a concert video. Would that count?”

“What is this, a holiday bucket list?”

“Why not?” He moved back to the coffee maker and pulled out the pot. “You’ve spent more than half your life raising your kids. I think fulfilling a few of those wishes you set aside in order to focus on them would be a good way to celebrate your first all-by-yourself Christmas.”

“I was twenty years old when my first was born. The things someone barely out of her teens wishes for are pretty ridiculous.”

He handed her a cup of coffee with just the exact amount of cream and sugar she liked. “Ridiculous, maybe, but probably fun, too.”

“Fun? Like a pair of ultra-low-rise, flared jeans?”

He grinned over the top of his mug. “Before my kids were born I was dressing like a low-budget version of Neo from The Matrix, so I will not condemn your fashion choices.”

“So your Christmas wish would have been for more Matrix cosplay accessories?”

He nodded solemnly. “And tickets to The Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

She shook her head. “You are so old.”

“I am only a couple of years older than you are.”

“But a crucial couple of years.” She set her cup down. “I am still young and spry, and you are falling down your stairs.”

“Careful, Celeste. I’ll stop inviting you over for coffee if you keep talking like that.”

She smiled. “I’m not worried. You like having me over.”

“I do,” he admitted, his words quieter and less teasing.

Celeste pushed down the surge of uncertainty she always felt when he took on that tone.

He was a dear friend— the best she had, in fact.

And she had the world’s worst dating track record.

The few times she’d dated anyone in the last two decades, the experience had ended in disaster, and she never heard from the guys again.

Ruining her friendship with Mike was not something she was willing to risk, no matter that he was handsome and fun and smart and the highlight of her day. Friendship was safer.

“A holiday bucket list.” That was a less treacherous topic of conversation. “I kind of like that idea, actually, but under one condition.”

He took another sip of his coffee. “What condition is that?”

“That you check things off your list, too. A friendly competition, if you will.”

His lips turned up in a smile. “I’m listening.”

“We each compile a list of things we would have wanted to do in the years before our kids were born, things that being single parents meant we had to push aside.” Few people truly understood the emotional toll of losing a spouse and raising a family alone.

Mike knew. He’d lived it just like she had, having lost his wife to cancer when they were both still very young.

“The one who can check off the most items wins.”

“And what does the winner get?” Mike asked.

She hadn’t thought that far yet. They both sat a moment in silence, contemplating.

“I’ve got it,” Mike said. “The loser gives the winner something on his or her current Christmas wish list.”

“Like that big, extravagant present you suggested I get earlier?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to commit herself to spending a lot of money.

He shook his head. “Something on the wish list that doesn’t cost anything, or hardly anything. That should probably be a rule for the nostalgia bucket list too.”

“Agreed. Neither of us has a fortune to spend. So do we tell the other person now what we want if we win or is that a surprise?”

“I think surprise.”

Celeste nodded enthusiastically. “I like it.”

“Starting tomorrow?” Mike asked.

“We’ll meet at my house tomorrow night to write up our bucket lists.”

“I’ll be there,” he said.

For the first time since her daughter had told her she wouldn’t be home for Christmas, Celeste felt excited about the holidays. She had something to look forward to, and a friend to share the season with.

Perhaps there was a reason not to give up on Christmas entirely.