Page 77 of The Christmas Arrangement

“Me, too, Dad.” I straighten a napkin. “But Daniel deserves to meet his son. Dash deserves to know his father. And Rachel”—I pause—“deserves a chance to stop running.”

The kitchen door opens. My heart stops.

“That’s Daniel,” I say quietly. “I’ll get him.”

I walk into the kitchen. Daniel hovers in the doorway.

“Griselda told me to come in this way. I hope that’s okay.” His voice is strained. He’s nervous, too.

“This is the family entrance,” I confirm. “Come on in.”

He steps further into the kitchen. “Are they here?”

“My sister is at the cottage now, getting them. They don’t know you’re coming,” I confess. “Neither of them. I’m sorry to spring you om them like this, but it’s the only way.”

Daniel’s face pales, then he exhales. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing, kid.”

That makes two of us. Three, actually, because my dad just said the exact same thing.

“The family room is down that hall.” I gesture toward it. “Make yourself comfortable. They’ll be here soon.”

My dad comes around the corner and greets Daniel Lovelace in that warm, friendly innkeeper way of his. As they walk together toward the family room, I look out the window over the sink. Merry is leading Dash and Rachel down the path from the cottage. The fairy lights strung in the trees light their way. A moment later, headlights shine in the dark as Holly turns into the driveway and parks. Jack pops out of the passenger seat to open her door for her. They intercept Merry and the Pines, and they all walk the rest of the way together.

The gang’s all here.

I remind myself to breathe.

Dash

Mom and Holly are keeping up a steady stream of chatter. I’m barely paying attention. Ivy’s been avoiding me ever since she bailed on me at the children’s hospital. She didn’t even show up at The Nutcracker. She sent Griselda in her place. Then, out of nowhere, she invites me and Mom to dinner with the entire Jolly family.

I can’t figure out what she’s up to. And I’m not sure I should care. She wants me to leave town after tomorrow, after all. She’s done with us.

Ivy greets us and sends everyone into the dining room. But she catches my hand as I try to walk by with the others. Her skin is like ice.

“Hey,” she whispers, her voice shaking. “Before you go in there, I just want to say—I didn’t know how else to do this.”

“Do what?” I whisper back, but she’s already moving toward the dining room.

What did she do?

I follow her through the pocket doors in time to see Mom take in the table, the place settings, and the family-style spread. Then she stops so abruptly I almost walk into her.

A man’s entering the room from the Jolly’s living room, flanked by Nick and Noelle. Is that … Daniel Lovelace?

“Rachel.” His famous rasp is barely a whisper.

Mom stares at him, her face draining of color. “Danny?” her voice breaks.

“It’s been a long time.” Then he looks at me. “Hi, son.”

I look at him, really look at him, and I see my eyes, my cheekbones, my long tapered fingers.

I jerk my head toward Ivy, the question all over my face. She nods, her green eyes bright with unshed tears.

Daniel Lovelace is my father.

The silence stretches. Mom gapes at Daniel from just inside the doorway. Daniel—my father—hasn’t moved. The Jollys are shuffling around uncomfortably.