Chapter 37
“Have you seen Liam?” I ask Beckett. We’re standing towards the back of the crowd gathered for the tree-lighting ceremony.
The sky is black, dotted with stars, and there’s the smell of snow in the air.
There’s already plenty of it on the ground, and the weather forecast suggests we’re getting another dump this evening—maybe not in time for the tree lighting, but certainly ensuring a white Christmas.
Amelia and I have just finished hanging candy canes with the rest of the holiday squad volunteers, tagged with the notes we attached the evening before.
After the ceremony, everyone’s invited up to pick a candy cane off the tree, as a fun and sweet keepsake from the event.
The wish notes say things like “You’re on the ‘nice’ list!
” and “Unwrap your best year yet!” for the adults, and have holiday-themed jokes like “What kind of photos do elves take? Elfies!” for the younger set.
“I haven’t.” Beckett cranes her head, looking around as people mill about, waiting for the ceremony to begin. “He was walking Mary. I’ve been looking for him, too, but he said he… wasn’t sure he was going to come.”
Beckett gives me a sad smile, and I’m equal parts mortified, embarrassed, and despondent.
I want to ask if it has anything to do with me, or with the Sip and Glide fiasco, but I also don’t want to appear self-centred or presumptuous.
Maybe Liam, whose self-professed favourite holiday is Christmas, has other plans?
Like walking a potbellied pig instead of showing up at what is arguably the biggest event of the season?
Right, Libby. You don’t live in Harmony Hills and “make other plans” on the tree-lighting night. No chance.
“I’m sure he’ll be here,” Amelia says, reaching for my hand and giving it a squeeze. This is her second date with Beckett, and it suddenly occurs to me that exactly a year from now we’ll be gathering for the tree lighting again, but this time there will also be a wedding. Beckett and Amelia’s.
Now that I’ve broken up with Austin, nearly a year earlier than before, I wonder what this means for the following Christmas. Where I’ll be living, what I’ll be doing… and who (if anyone) I’ll be doing it all with.
Amelia told me she explained things to Beckett, about how Austin showed up unannounced and uninvited, and most importantly, that I ended things for good this morning.
I was desperate to ask if Beckett had spoken to Liam about it but couldn’t find a way to bring it up without looking, well, desperate.
I tried calling Liam shortly after Austin left, hoping to better explain things, but he didn’t pick up, and so I left a message. And two texts. Then I called Helena and unloaded all my misery onto her, and she (thankfully) talked me out of leaving a second message, and a third text.
“He’ll be in touch if he wants to, Elizabeth. I know this isn’t your strong suit, but you’re going to have to be patient.”
A series of Christmas bells pierce the air, indicating it’s almost time for the tree lighting to begin.
We move closer to the large evergreen, which is brimming with decorations but not yet illuminated.
Just then Beckett says, “Oh, there he is.” To Amelia she adds, “I’ll be right back—save me a spot, okay? ”
My head whips around, searching for Liam’s tall figure, his wavy dark hair, those green eyes I am easily lost in…
“Oh… my… um, Libby?” Amelia says, but I’m still looking around for Liam, having now lost Beckett in the crowd with no clue which direction she was headed. “ Elizabeth Mae Munro, this is not a drill. ”
There’s an urgent tug on my coat sleeve as she says my full name, which immediately makes me look her way.
“What? What is it?” I’m only half paying attention, because I don’t want to miss a chance to talk to Liam. She doesn’t say anything, just points. It’s then I see why she sounded so urgent.
Austin. At the entrance to the town square, walking towards us with a big smile and a purposeful stride.
“What the heck is he doing here?” Amelia whispers. “Shouldn’t he be on a plane right now?”
But there isn’t time to formulate an answer, even if I had one, because a moment later Austin stands in front of us.
“Hey, Amelia,” he says, giving her the Austin smile that could likely charm even the Grinch. It doesn’t have any effect on my little sister, however, and she just stares at him and gives a bland half smile. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. What about your parents? Where are they?”
He glances around, before saying, “Wow, you weren’t kidding about how seriously this town takes Christmas, Elizabeth.”
But in his voice I don’t detect awe or a sense he’s impressed—it comes out more like he finds the entire scene, and therefore my one-of-a-kind hometown, trite.
“What are you doing here, Austin?” I finally manage to sputter.
He turns his attention back my way, and there’s a glimmer of nervousness in his expression.
His blue eyes won’t stay on mine, and he’s wringing his hands.
Very odd for Dr. Austin Whitmore, aka Mr. Confidence.
“I was halfway home, and all of a sudden it hit me. What you need from me, to make this all okay.”
He reaches for my hands right as the tree-lighting countdown begins.
“Twelve! Eleven! Ten!…”
“Elizabeth, babe, in you I think I’ve found my match,” Austin starts.
“What?” I’m confused, though part of my brain understands what’s happening before the rest catches up. I’m distracted by the tree-lighting countdown, by Amelia still standing right beside me, by the tugs she is once again making on my coat sleeve.
“Austin, now isn’t really a good time—” I start, raising my voice to be heard over the choir of the countdown.
“Six! Five!…”
“Libby… Mon Dieu! Libby, he’s—” Amelia’s voice is strained, cut off by what Austin says next.
“I love you and can’t imagine life with anyone else,” Austin says to me, before dropping to one knee. He releases my hand and reaches into the pocket of his navy pea coat.
“No, no, no… Austin, stop,” I whisper.
He opens the small velvet box—the one I found in the arm of his sweatshirt but then tucked into my duffel bag (When did he get it? How did he find it?)—and plucks out the diamond ring inside, extending it towards me. “Will you marry me?”
“Two… One!” The crowd finishes the countdown with a cheer, and in a flash the tree is illuminated—hundreds of lights twinkling against the night sky. There are so many voices around us, the sounds of celebration deafening, and I can’t catch my breath.
I’m numb, standing there gawking at Austin with my mouth hanging open.
Unable to reconcile that my ex-boyfriend has just proposed to me at the tree-lighting ceremony, only hours after we broke up and he left town.
A strangled gasping sound leaves me, as I can’t believe what’s happening.
Unfortunately, Austin deciphers that sound as my answer, and shouts, “She said yes!”
Then he slides the ring on my finger before I can correct him. Jumping to his feet, he hugs me tightly. “I’m so happy, Elizabeth,” he says, his voice muffled by the toque I’m wearing.
“I didn’t… No, it’s…” I wriggle out of his embrace and stare at my finger, where the impressive diamond ring rests.
For one moment I imagine what it would have been like to have received this ring and a proposal from Austin in the other timeline.
It’s unsettling to know I likely would have said yes if this had all gone down differently. But now I understand what I truly want.
It isn’t this .
It isn’t the life I had—could have, maybe, if I say yes right now—with Austin in Toronto, or in L.A. Rather, it’s a life in my quaint hometown of Harmony Hills, and if Liam could be a part of it, even better.
“Liam,” I say, my voice catching. He’s standing slightly behind Amelia, whose hand covers her mouth in shock, as she stares at my ring, then at my face, then over at Liam.
Liam glances first at Austin, who is being congratulated by a few people standing near us, before his eyes shift to mine.
I take a step towards him, tentatively at first. But then I’m impatient to get to him, so I take a couple more steps in quick succession.
I need to tell him none of this matters and I most certainly am not engaged to Austin, regardless of how this looks.
“Liam, please, hear me out. This is not what it—”
However, I don’t see Mary’s leash, which has stretched taut between where Liam stands and where she’s snuffling around, looking for a tasty morsel of something dropped in the snow—probably a candy cane.
I don’t get another word out, because a second later I’m tripping over the leash in a quite dramatic fashion. “Ass over tea kettle—good job!” as my granddad used to say whenever Amelia or I would fall down, which always made us laugh, despite scraped knees and tears.
It happens so fast, and a second later, the lights go out in a flash.
Something’s pushing against my side. It’s incessant and gets more so by the second.
“What’s going on?” I say, blinking my eyes.
They feel heavy, like I’ve been asleep for hours.
I’m trying to figure out where I am. It’s dark, obviously nighttime, the only light a soft glow coming off the massive evergreen to my right.
My face is chilled and damp, and I realize it’s snowing when I feel the icy pinpricks from snowflakes landing on my cheeks, the tip of my nose, my lips.
My mind takes a moment to catch up, but then, in a rush, I remember everything. The tree lighting. Austin… proposing! Me trying to get to Liam to explain, then tripping over—“Mary, sit. Sit!” That voice I know. Liam, sounding stern but also slightly panicked.
“Liam?” My throat is dry, and I wonder how long I’ve been lying on the ground.
“Libby? Honey?” Dad says, crouched beside me. I look his way and see he’s wearing a suit under his long wool coat. Why is he wearing a suit? And next to him is Mom, but she’s on her knees, in a burgundy velvet dress with a high neck and a crystal-encrusted wreath pin to the side.
“Your ankle! You shouldn’t be on the ground. Wait, did you fall? Are you okay?” I try to sit up, because I’m worried about my mom, but there are a half-dozen hands holding me in place. A cacophony of “Shhhh, Libby, lie still. Stay down.”
Then I see Amelia— Why is Amelia crying? She’s in a long white dress and looks panicked through her tears. Liam stands beside her, those gorgeous green eyes filled with concern. He looks different, too, though it’s subtle, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.
“Where’s Austin?” I ask, for I don’t see him anywhere. I lift my hand to my face, but I’m wearing gloves so can’t see the engagement ring my ex-boyfriend just put on my finger. I feel a rush of panic and despair.
“I can’t believe I’m engaged without agreeing to be engaged,” I mutter, before groaning and closing my eyes again. Another day, another mess, Libby.
Now my parents are speaking to each other in hushed but urgent tones.
I open my eyes and see Amelia wringing her hands.
She glances over at Liam with poorly concealed panic.
I watch his handsome face drain of colour, and I remember I haven’t yet had the chance to tell him none of this with Austin is real.
I desperately want to be alone with him, to explain everything, but my parents won’t stop fussing over me.
“It’s okay, honey,” Dad says. “Don’t worry about any of that. Just lie still so Mom can check your head. Any pain?”
“No, no, I’m okay.” Mom’s hands expertly feel around my head, looking for signs of trauma.
“Want me to call an ambulance?” Beckett asks, her arm now around Amelia’s shoulders. Everyone looks freaked out, and it’s starting to freak me out.
“I don’t need an ambulance. You guys, it’s okay, I think I just—Hey, Mary, what are you doing?”
Mary’s back to snuffling at my coat pocket, her snout pressing hard into me.
I nudge her snout away, then dip my hand into my pocket and pull out a candy cane.
I see the tag and am instantly confused.
It’s not one that Amelia and I tied onto the candy canes the night before, with the jokes and the Christmastime well-wishes.
I stare at the tag, blinking to make sure I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing.
’Tis the Season to Be Married!
Suddenly, I know exactly where I am. Then I look at my sister, and another piece of the puzzle falls into place. Amelia’s white dress is her wedding dress—I recognize it now. Tonight is the tree-lighting event, as well as the night Amelia and Beckett got married.
It’s the same night Mary Piggins knocked me over for the first, though far from the last, time.
This is the night I made a wish on the magical snowfall and next opened my eyes to find myself in Christmas past, the year before.
It’s this Christmas, again.
I’m back.