Page 44

THIRTY-THREE

AMOS

The barn-like structure on Maplewood’s festival grounds brimmed with jovial energy as the place approached a capacity that might have the fire department raising an eyebrow.

There had to be at least five hundred people celebrating the holiday and enjoying the amazing food that our community restaurants came together to prepare.

Finn’s boyfriend Drake, who ran the festival grounds, had transformed the plain space into a winter wonderland.

A local Christmas tree farm had donated garlands and evergreen boughs, which Drake’s team hung around the room.

Long rows of folding tables held centerpieces of tree clippings and festive ornaments around glass cylinders with battery-operated candles.

Instrumental Christmas music played over the sound system, and volunteers bustled around in their ugly Christmas sweaters and silly festive headbands to refill catering trays at the buffet line.

Another group of volunteers had just returned from delivering plated dinners in reheatable containers to Maplewoodians who weren’t able to attend in person. I was so proud of how the event was turning out.

“Hey, Amos, can you take these to the drinks table?” A volunteer handed me two pitchers of water.

“On it.”

There was a visible divide between people showing their diner allegiance by wearing red or green. Also, oddly enough, a fair number of people wore sequins. Was that a Christmas thing?

What surprised me the most was seeing how blended the red and green were.

I’d expected to see something more like what I had at college football games, with a clearly defined home team section with people in one color and the visiting team visible in another section.

Seeing Sparky’s and Red’s people so intermingled while celebrating Christmas Eve gave me hope that they would embrace Mickey and me when we began dating openly.

As I wove my way through clusters of people standing and chatting, I reveled in the laughter and joy.

A deep sense of belonging filled me. How can I leave this?

For the most part, I’d enjoyed my time in Boston, but I’d never felt like part of a community there.

It was simply a place I’d lived and worked.

Maplewood was different. Special. Vermont was home.

Where my heart was, and hopefully, my future.

I had no idea what to do, but I could keep working at Sparky’s until I figured it out. Burlington was only about an hour away, and Montpelier was only half an hour. It didn’t have to be a matter of Boston or Maplewood—I could find a new career somewhere closer to here.

Mickey gave me a dazzling smile as he approached with his hands full of empty pitchers. He looked adorable in a red sweater with a picture of a giant reindeer with lights wrapped around the antlers.

“Forgot to say earlier, nice sweater.” He winked.

I glanced down and realized we matched. My green sweater had an equally tacky reindeer on it. “We have great taste.”

With another lingering smile, I resumed my errand with thoughts full of Mickey. I was exhilarated to find out what came next for us. With how differently I felt with him than anyone else I’d dated, I knew I needed to see it through, wherever we went.

I’d reached the point where returning to Boston no longer felt like a viable option. I don’t want to go back there. Boston was my past, and Maplewood was my future.

Had I just decided to stay? I took in the revelry and the hundreds of people who’d chosen to spend their holiday with their neighbors instead of in the comfort of their homes with their favorite holiday foods.

This was what I wanted in my life. I wasn’t sure what was in store for me, but I felt free having cut Boston loose.

First thing on the day after Christmas, I would text Braxton and let him know that I wasn’t interested in pursuing the job. He wouldn’t have an issue finding someone who was far more invested than I could be.

After setting the water pitchers on the drinks table, I returned to our prep area behind the scenes.

“I noticed the mashed potatoes were running low. Can you take a fresh tray out? Also, the rolls could use topping up. Butter too.” Mickey directed volunteers like a man used to working in a restaurant.

I couldn’t help but admire him in his element. He might not have a passion for it, but he sure had the skills. I knew he would be successful with Mystic Rind—wherever he decided to take it. If I played my cards right, I could be right by his side as he figured it out. I couldn’t wait.

“Do you know if the Good Morning, USA team has eaten?” Mom asked.

She’d been moving nonstop since we’d arrived at the venue a couple of hours ago.

She’d taken charge of getting plates dished up for the deliveries, and Dad and Sage had stepped in to organize the volunteers serving at the buffet line.

Meanwhile, Joe Brewer had taken the lead in setting up the kitchen space and organizing all the pre-prepped food.

They all worked together seamlessly, like people who’d done it before.

There were no squabbles or territorial spats like occasionally happened at festival events.

How much of that was a show for the community?

“I’m not sure. I’ll go ask.” I returned to the main room and spotted the producer Mandeep.

“Hey. You all eaten yet? If it would help, we can set aside plates or find a more private place to eat,” I said.

Mandeep pulled his attention away from Theresa interviewing a couple I’d seen at The Striped Maple a couple of times. One wore red and one wore green. Huh.

“Hey. Thanks for the offer. We’ll keep filming for a while, but we’d love to grab some food later. If you could set aside some plates, we’d really appreciate that. Thanks.”

“No problem. Are you getting good content?” I couldn’t wait to see the final spot tomorrow.

I’d asked Mandeep earlier how they would be able to put together the segment so quickly when it was airing tomorrow.

I couldn’t wrap my mind around how it would happen.

He’d said they sent the digital footage back to the crew working in New York as soon as they filmed, so they’d been working on the segment all day.

The Christmas Day special was one of their biggest shows of the year, so the editing crew worked long days leading up to it, and those who celebrated Christmas did so on the twenty-sixth.

“We’ve gotten a lot of great footage. We’re still going around and doing interviews about the diners, but I know our viewers are going to eat this up. People love an underdog story, and this town has two.”

“That’s great. I’ll go make sure there’s food set aside for you all.”

“Thanks, Amos.” Mandeep turned back to the filming in progress.

As soon as I got back to the prep area, I reported back to Mom about fixing plates for the film crew.

While volunteers bustled in and out of the space, I tried to figure out what needed to be done next and saw Mickey striding with purpose toward the storage area we’d crammed full of supplies.

I spun around and followed hot on his heels.

His competency was seriously working for me, and I needed him to know it.

The entrance faced an empty hallway, so I took the opportunity to hook my arm around his waist and pull him close.

Mickey let out a startled laugh and turned in my arms to face me. “Hey. This is a nice surprise.”

As I took in his wide smile and the warmth in his eyes, I was overcome with gratitude for the circumstances that had led me to him. My life was so much better with Mickey Brewer in it, and I needed him to know. It wasn’t the best time or place, but I couldn’t wait.

“I’m staying. I don’t know what I’ll do for work, but I know I don’t want to leave Maplewood. Even if I’m in a city nearby, I want to stay. I’m turning down the job.”

Mickey wrapped his arms around me in a vise grip before he pulled back and cupped my cheeks, searching my eyes. “You’re staying? Really?”

Staying in Vermont wasn’t only about Mickey, but also about my family and finding a career that brought me joy. But damn, the elation in Mickey’s voice felt amazing.

“I am. My parents are going to be so happy. Lots of good news to tell them tomorrow,” I said meaningfully.

He brushed his thumb across my cheek. “Where should we have our first date in town? Red’s or Sparky’s?”

I laughed. “How about somewhere neutral? Let’s work up to the diners.”

“Why don’t you come over tonight, and we can brainstorm?”

I stepped closer into his warmth. “Sounds great. We can rub each other’s aching feet, and I can tell you all about how I’m falling in love with you.”

Mickey stunned me with a gorgeous smile. “Best Christmas present ever.” He pulled me into him and kissed me until my toes curled. “I’m falling in love with you too.”

As I opened my eyes, smiling, I noticed movement over Mickey’s shoulder. Joe Brewer stared at us, mouth hanging open. Before I could say anything, he turned and hustled away.

“Uh, Mickey, turns out you’ve got one less thing on your to-do list for tomorrow.”