Chapter 19 Lindsey
LINDSEY
“I hope she also informed you I had no idea what she was up to,” I say, covering my cheeks with my hands as we walk along the trail for the light show. “I can’t believe she told you.”
Oliver chuckles. “She did, and she made sure to mention you had nothing to do with it.”
The trees are shimmering overhead, bathed in the glow of warm fairy lights. They’re so beautiful, they almost don’t look real. The rest of our group is several feet ahead.
“I don’t know what’s more embarrassing—the fact that Aunt Rose fell while they were scheming to meet you, or that she told you that’s what they were doing.”
“It’s hilarious. I think your mom is a hoot.”
“And a teensy bit overbearing sometimes,” I add.
“Maybe,” he concedes. “But her heart’s in the right place. I really think she just wants you to be happy.”
“I know,” I say. “And I am. I have been. My parents had this beautiful love story, and then Lucy and Ben found their perfect matches, and I think that made it hard for my mom to understand why finding someone stopped being a priority for me. It’s not that I don’t see how amazing it can be, because I do. It’s just…”
I trail off, becoming nervous about where I’ve taken the conversation.
“You said it stopped being a priority, so does that mean it was at one time?” he asks, his arm touching mine as we walk.
I press my lips together, trapping my words inside.
How much is too much to say? Too much of myself to give away?
“It was,” I admit.
His face softens as he peers down at me. “What changed?”
“I guess I did.” I sigh, dropping my gaze to my boots crunching along the gravel path. “I didn’t want to invite someone in only to be let down again.”
“That’s understandable.”
“And after my dad passed so suddenly, the way I looked at life shifted. I realized I didn’t need someone to sweep me off my feet in order for my life to begin. I already have everything I need.”
“You do,” he agrees. “It’s one of the things I like most about you. You’re not looking for anyone to complete you. You already have a life you love.”
His fingers find mine, and my skin tingles with electricity.
“I just want the chance to be a part of it,” he says.
My entire body vibrates. “I’d like that.”
“Really?” he asks, and suddenly he trips, lurching forward and narrowly avoids falling on his face.
“Are you okay?” I ask, grabbing onto his arm.
He stops walking and pulls me off to the side, taking my hands in his. “You make me nervous. In a good way. You have this uncanny ability to turn me into a bumbling fool, and I love every minute of it. I haven’t felt like this about anybody in…well, a long time. Not since Jess.”
My breath catches in my throat. “I haven’t, either.”
“Look, Lindsey—cards on the table—I’m not seeing anyone else. It’s okay if you are. I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way, but I want you to know, I’m serious. I care about you.”
“I’m not seeing anyone else,” I say, squeezing his fingers.
Oliver gives me a smile that makes my heart flutter so fast I think it could carry us up into the trees.
“Good,” he says. “All right, then.”
“All right,” I echo, turning my eyes skyward. I chuckle to myself when I realize where we’re standing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Look up,” I say, and he does.
We’re standing beneath one of the many glowing trees, and hanging from its lowest branch is a sprig of mistletoe wrapped in twinkle lights.
“You know, one of the secrets of Mistletoe Fest is that this stuff is strung all along the path,” I say. “There’s probably hundreds of those things around here.”
Our eyes meet again, and he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Then I hope we find every single one.”
By the time we make it through the light display, we’re all exhausted and start heading our separate ways.
“It’s been fun, everybody,” Kayla says as we approach the exit. “But I’m gonna head on out.”
A chorus of goodbyes and good nights follow her.
“Dinner at two tomorrow?” Lucy asks.
Mom smiles. “Yep.”
“See y’all then,” Ellie says as she and Ben carry a sleepy Emily and Noah to the car.
Rose yawns, tossing a wave over her shoulder. “Good night, y’all. Nice meeting you, Ron.”
“You too,” he calls. “G’night.”
“Well, Ron, are you ready to hit the road?” Oliver asks, his fingers still laced through mine.
“Sure am,” Ron says. “Myra Jean, Doc, it’s been wonderful.”
“What do you say we do it again tomorrow?” Mom asks, causing me to turn my head so quickly it nearly gives me whiplash.
Ron chuckles. “I’m pretty sure the festival is a one-day-only event.”
“Come to dinner at my house tomorrow,” Mom says. “Both of you. Ron, you can bring June Bug too, if you like.”
“You should,” I add. “It’ll be fun.”
Ron’s lips quirk into a grin. “I’d like that. Count me in.”
“Me too,” Oliver agrees.
Mom gives a single nod. “We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Ron hugs me and then my mother, and Oliver kisses my temple before the two of them start toward the parking lot.
“Come on,” I say, gesturing to the right. “I’m over that way.”
Once inside my car, I turn the ignition and get the heat going. The chill I’ve tried to hold off has burrowed its way into my bones and made itself comfortable, causing my entire body to throb.
I rub my hands together to warm them but stop because even my fingers hurt. “It might take me until next year to thaw out.”
“You mean all those kisses from Oliver didn’t warm you up?” Mom asks, buckling her seat belt. “I saw you two canoodling all through the light display.”
I snort. “What does that word even mean? Do regular people canoodle? I feel like I only ever hear about that word in reference to famous people. Like George Clooney. Or Leonardo DiCaprio.”
“I bet George is a good canoodler.”
“I say again, what does that mean?”
“You know,” she says, moving her hands as though she’s pulling her thoughts from thin air, “it’s like a cuddle. A snuggle.”
“You sure about that?” I arch an eyebrow at her, biting back a grin. “Because remember that time you said you had an out-of-control beaver?”
She gasps and swats my arm. “How was I supposed to know people used that word to describe their hoo has?”
“You said it so seriously too.” I dissolve into a fit of giggles. “And it wasn’t a beaver, it was a groundhog.”
“Well, whatever it was, the little shit tore up my flower beds and ate all my herbs,” she chokes out through her laughter. “Okay, forget the canoodle. You two seemed like you were having a good time.”
“We were,” I say, glancing in my rearview mirror as I back out of my spot. “Speaking of, you and Ron looked pretty chummy.”
“I still can’t believe you invited him.” She’s shaking her head in feigned annoyance, but joy radiates from her rosy cheeks.
I peer over at her while I join the long line of cars, waiting for my turn to pull onto the highway. “You didn’t seem to mind all that much when you asked him to dinner tomorrow.”
“I did do that, didn’t I?” She grits her teeth as she smooths her hands over her pants.
“You did.”
“Is that…Was it weird for me to do that?” she asks, her voice small and uncertain.
“What do you mean? Weird how?”
She shrugs and shifts in her seat. “These dinners are usually reserved for family. Ron’s not family.”
“Well, neither is Oliver, and this will be his second dinner with us.”
“But you like him.”
“And you like Ron,” I say, and her gaze drops to her lap. “Don’t you?”
She nods.
“It’s not a marriage proposal,” I say, my tone gentle. “It’s just dinner.”
“You don’t think it’ll upset Ben and Lucy by inviting him, do you?”
“What? Why would you think that?” I massage the back of my neck, attempting to dislodge the rock that’s formed there.
She leans her head against the seat. “Will they think it’s too soon? Will they think I’ve lost my mind?”
“Of course not.”
“I’m serious, Lindsey,” she says, facing me with wide, worried eyes.
“Oh my God, Mom. Stop. You’re spiraling.” I reach over and squeeze her arm. “I think we all want the same thing.”
“And what’s that?” she asks as I inch the car forward.
“For you to be happy,” I answer, giving her a faint smile. “Are you? Happy?”
She sighs. “Today was one of the best days I’ve had since…well, you know.”
“And that’s all it has to be,” I say. “There doesn’t need to be any pressure, okay? We had a good day as a family with a couple new people we really like.”
She takes a deep breath. “Yes. Okay. You’re right.”
I turn the knob on the radio. “You need something else to focus on. How about some Christmas music?”
“Or you could tell me more about Oliver.”
“What do you want to know?” I glance out the window nonchalantly, as though I’m not bursting at the seams.
“Just one thing, really,” she says, pinning me with her gaze. “Are you going to give this thing between you and Oliver a chance?”
I open my mouth to answer, but she keeps talking.
“Because he’s such a great guy, Lindsey.
He’s everything I could have ever dreamed of for you and more.
He’s kind and thoughtful and brave. And not just in the obvious runs-into-burning-buildings sort of way.
He got up on that stage because he knew I didn’t want to.
He did that for me, and I’ve seen how he is with you. So tender and gentle and—”
“Mom.”
“Sorry.” She holds out her hands, pumping the breaks on her own thoughts. “Anyway…are you? Going to give this a shot?”
I twist my lips and wait, as though I need even a second to consider it. As though my heart isn’t firing off like a confetti popper.
“Well?” she asks again.
“I am,” I answer finally.
“I knew it,” she screeches, her feet dancing against the floorboard. “Oh, I’m so glad. He really is a sweetheart, and he clearly knows what a catch you are.”
“There’s something else,” I say, holding up my finger. “But you have to promise you’re not going to freak out if I tell you.”
She squeals. “Okay.”
“I mean it.”
“Right. Yes.” She shakes out her shoulders and releases a slow breath. “All right. I’m not going to freak out.”
“Oliver told me he’s not seeing anyone else.”
“Really?” She presses her hand to her chest, trying to contain herself. “And what did you say?”
“I told him I’m not seeing anyone, either.”
“Really?” This time, the question comes out as a squeak.
I chuckle and roll my eyes. “Oh fine. Go on. Let it out. You know you want to.”
And she does, loudly shrieking her excitement. “I feel good about this, Lindsey,” she says. “And your father would have too. He would have liked Oliver.”
My chest constricts, and I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. “You think so?”
“I do.”
I blow out a breath, a smile tugging on my lips. “We had a good day today.”
“A damn good day.” She places her hand on my knee and gives it a squeeze. I flinch, and her eyes crease with concern. “Oh no, sweetheart. Your fibro is acting up, isn’t it?”
“A little.” It’s a white lie, but I don’t want her to worry. “I was just out in the cold too long. I’ll feel better after I get warmed up.”
“I’ll make you some hot cocoa when we get home,” she says, already devising a plan to make me feel better.
“That’ll do the trick.” Another untruth, but I don’t want anything to dampen my mother’s mood tonight. Reality will just have to wait.