A Little Mistletoe and Magic: Ho Ho Howls Romance Holiday Edition Read online

  Marianne Morea

  Coventry Press Limited

  Coventry Press Ltd.

  Somers, New York

  http://www.coventrypressltd.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 Marianne Morea

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions of thereof in any form whatsoever without written permission.

  ASIN:

  First Edition: Coventry Press Ltd. 2020

  Printed in the USA

  “Happiness is a gift, and the trick is not to expect it, but to delight in it when it comes.”

  “He has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome. The happiness he gives is…as if it cost a fortune”

  ~Charles Dickens

  FOREWARD

  Dear Reader,

  When I sat down to write Of Mistletoe and Magic, I thought about some of my favorite holiday stories. Ones that have endured through the ages. My favorite, above all, is Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. I love it because it shows the true depth of the human condition. Love as well as darkness, and how a person’s experiences in life can shape them for the better or the worse. Sometimes we must travel through the dark to find the joy on the other side. All in all, it comes down to the choices we make, and whether we possess the capacity to learn and to forgive. Even ourselves.

  I tried to capture that breadth of feeling in my little holiday story. I truly hope Mr. Dickens would have liked my tale of broken and redemptive love, and forgiven my twist on his classic. Either way, I hope you enjoy the story.

  Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all, and as Tiny Tim says, “God bless us, everyone!”

  Marianne Morea

  Chapter One

  The front door opened and closed, and Jenny Mitchell glanced over her shoulder to the hallway.

  “Jen?”

  “I’m in here,” she answered, but didn’t move from her packing.

  “You ready for the Black Friday sales?” Amelia stopped short in the arched doorway to the living room. “Oh my God. It’s true, then.”

  Switching her purse from one arm to the other was Amelia’s telltale move when she needed to wrap her head around something. Ames wasn’t happy being the last to know about anything, but this? Jenny steeled herself for an argument.

  “I can’t believe you, Jen! Who plans to move over the holidays? Yesterday was Thanksgiving for Chrissake!”

  Jenny closed the flaps on the packed box and looked at her friend. “Ames, what’s not to believe? I’ve only told you sixteen times since Labor Day.”

  “I didn’t think you were serious.” The ripping sound of packing tape made Amelia wince.

  “Obviously.”

  Amelia ignored the sarcasm. “I know you’ve been talking about getting away, but that doesn’t mean pack up and leave! Your life is here, Jen. Your friends are here. Your family is—”

  “Dead.” Jenny cut Ames off before she could finish.

  “Jen!”

  Resting the tape gun on the sealed box, Jenny stood with an exhale in a sea of open cartons. “It’s okay, Ames. I’m not being flippant, and it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten or that I’m done grieving. It’s just time.”

  “The accident is still fresh, Jen. It’s too soon for you to make a kneejerk move.”

  Jenny shook her head. “It’s almost three years, Ames. It’s time. I need this.”

  “But it’s the holidays.”

  “Exactly my point. Halloween was the clincher for me. The kids in their costumes coming to the door for trick or treat, while their parents waited for them on the sidewalk.” Jenny exhaled tiredly. “I knew then it was time. I put the house on the market the next day.”

  “Okay, so you listed the house. It could take months to sell. Why are you packing?”

  Jenny shrugged. “It sold the first week. Jerry already agreed to handle the closing for me, so all that’s left is packing up.”

  “Jerry knew about this?” Amelia blinked. “He never said a word. Husbands are supposed to tell their wives everything, especially when it has to do with their best friend moving God knows where!’

  “Ames, will you put your purse down and listen to me? You look like Sophia from the Golden Girls.”

  “Picture it. Sicily 2020. A stunning brunette, left bereft when her best friend in the whole world left her behind.”

  “I’m serious.”

  Amelia hmphed. “So am I,” she said, moving a half-empty box from a Queen Anne chair to sit down.

  “Ames, I spent the first month after the accident in a medically-induced coma. I didn’t even know Charlie and the girls were gone. Hell, his mother buried them without me.” She reached for the family picture they took at the shore. “I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.” Inhaling, she ran her fingers over the glass, and then laid the picture in an open box. “You know all this, already.”

  “Linda had no choice, Jen. You were in and out of consciousness when the ambulance brought you into the ER. The doctors thought it best not to tell you. You were bottoming out when they made the decision to put you in that coma. None of us knew if you’d make it or not. Linda did what she thought was right.”

  Nodding, Jenny exhaled again. “I know…and you’re right. I suppose I should be grateful she took charge and had them cremated. At least I can decide for myself what to do with their ashes.” She paused before turning to eye her friend. “I hear them, you know. Not Charlie, but my girls. Just their laughter, but I know it’s them. I sense them.”

  “Jen.”

  She put up a hand. “Don’t tell me I’m imagining it, or that it’s a byproduct of my grief and anger. I’m not crazy. Believe me, I thought that, too. Since the accident, I sense things. Sometimes, I even know things. Not all the time. I’m not a clairvoyant or anything, but my intuition is definitely super-charged. I’ve done my research, Amelia. It has to do with near-death experiences.”

  “You don’t really believe that…do you?”

  Jenny shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Though I do think my girls are guiding me.”

  “And this is what they’re guiding you to do?” Amelia gestured to the packing mess. “Moving away from everyone you know and love?”

  “Whisper Falls isn’t away, away. It’s four hours north. Ever since I got out of the hospital, this house…this town. It’s suffocating me.”

  “So your answer to feeling suffocated is to move from a small town to an even smaller town?”

  “Amelia, there are too many memories here, and too many gaps.” She sat on one of the packed boxes. “Intermittent retrograde amnesia. It’s spotty, thank God, but still frustrating as hell.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Jenny shrugged, smirking at her friend. “What’s the matter, Ames? Is there something you’re hoping I forgot?”

  “Jen, seriously.”

  “The doctors weren’t concerned about my memory. They seemed pretty confident the gaps would go away over time. Besides, I had too many other things to relearn. Like how to walk again. Talk again. Live again.” She closed her fingers into her palm. “I’m okay with not being one hundred percent okay. I can’t control what happened or its fallout, but I can control what comes next. I’m simply closing one chapter of my life, and starting another. A fresh start. Whe
re people don’t look at me with pity and then gossip behind my back.”

  Her friend didn’t comment because Jen knew Amelia couldn’t argue the point. Their town was filled with wannabes and nimbys. The not-in-my-backyard types, who put their fists in the air until it was time to put their money where their mouths were.

  Amelia cleared her throat, and then inhaled. Jen knew the tell. Her friend did that whenever she was about to switch gears.

  “With the house sold, have you given any thought to what you’ll do in Whatever Falls? Where you’ll live?”

  “It’s Whisper Falls, Ames,” Jenny smirked. “…and yes, I’ve given it plenty of thought.” She dug for a brochure in a pile of papers on the coffee table, before handing it to her friend.

  Amelia’s brows knotted looking at the flyer. “This is a bed and breakfast.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you moving, or just planning to live in a hotel for the rest of your life like Dylan Thomas or some other transient writer?”

  “I bought it, Ames. I own the inn. Whether that makes me a permanent transient or whatever, I don’t know. As for teaching literature and trying to write, that part of my life is done and dusted.”

  “Jen, you don’t know the first thing about running an inn.”

  “True, that’s why I decided to wait until spring for my grand opening. The Hudson Valley is the perfect place to do this, Amelia. It’s a four seasons scenario, and spring is the perfect springboard into the summer outdoor season, and by the time fall rolls around, I’ll be ready for autumn leaf season. Then Christmas, winter skiing and snowshoeing, then back around to spring.”

  “I don’t know, Jen.” Amelia studied the brochure. “It’s a good plan, but spring is still a long six months away. What’ll you do in the meantime? I know you, and you need to stay busy or you’ll dwell.”

  “I’ve got that covered. There’s a small, side building on the property, adjacent to the inn. I’ve decided to open a shop. Since the B&B is on Main Street, and is walking distance to everything, it should get tons of foot traffic. Especially if I do it up right for the holidays.”

  Amelia looked at Jen over the top of her reading glasses. “A shop. What kind of shop?”

  “A gift shop, I guess.” Jenny shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about calling it The Curious Cat.”

  “Good name, though you know the old saying about curiosity and cats.”

  Jenny rolled her eyes, reaching to take back the brochure. “With that attitude, I guess you won’t be coming with me to the International Gift Fair at the convention center this week.”

  “Ha! That’s what you think.” Amelia snatched the flyer back. “Curiosity is good. Cats even better. I’m going with you, and the two of us will stock your shop with the cutest, coolest items available. If I have anything to say about it, your place will be a hit from the moment you cut the ribbon.” She grinned. “How much time do we have? A month? Six weeks?”

  Jenny shook her head. “Five days. The movers will be here December 1st.”

  “FIVE days?” Amelia blinked. “You can’t possibly sort through everything in this house and decide what your want and what you don’t in that timeframe.”

  “That’s why I’m packing it all up. I can sort through everything once I’m settled at the inn. That way, I can sort at my own pace.”

  Amelia chewed the side of her mouth. “What about Charlie’s things from his office? I know Linda had them pack it up and send it to her.”

  “I’m picking it up from her place before I head to the convention center tomorrow.”

  “If you’d rather not see your mother-in-law, I can pick up Charlie’s boxes for her and bring them here.”

  Jenny shook her head. “It’s only right I see Linda before I go. She’s Charlie’s mother and the twins’ grandmother. I got it, Ames, but thanks for offering.”

  “Jen, you haven’t thought this through completely. Are you sure you want to do that?”

  Jenny laughed at that. “Do what? See my mother-in-law or shop for merchandise on Black Friday weekend? I gotta tell you, it’s a toss-up.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “What’s the problem, Ames? Are you afraid I’ll find out Charlie was a closet queen or that he embezzled from his company?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Amelia’s face said otherwise, and Jenny’s eyebrow went up. “What then?

  “You’re boxing up your whole life, and you’ll be alone when you unpack everything. What if it’s too much for you?”

  Exhaling, Jenny gave her friend a soft smile. “Is that all?”

  “Of course, what did you think I meant?”

  She reached for Amelia’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Then I’ll leave those boxes for when you come visit. We can tackle them together.”

  “So you’re not planning on seeing us for the holidays, then?”

  “I’ll come if I can. I’m only four hours away, remember? I can stay overnight with you and Jerry.” Jenny watched her friend’s face. “That’s if I’m still welcome.”

  Amelia took in a breath, and then stood from the Queen Anne chair. “I’d better give you a hand, or you’ll still be packing as the moving van waits in the drive.”

  “I’m guessing that’s a yes, then.” Jenny hugged her friend.

  “You do know Linda will play twenty questions, the next time she accidentally bumps into me at the nail salon, right?”

  “I know, Ames, and I’m sorry for that. Tell her you don’t know anything. Tell her to ask me herself. It’s not up to you to smooth things over for me with my mother-in-law. I loved Charlie, and I’ll miss him every day of my life, but his mother not so much.”

  “Amen to that.” Amelia cuffed her sleeves and then picked up an empty box. “Now, if you can invite yourself to overnights at my house, I expect a room at your inn reserved just for me.”

  Jenny laughed, hugging her friend again, box and all. “I’ll even name a room after you. The Amelia Suite at the Willow Inn Bed and Breakfast at Whisper Falls.”

  Chapter Two

  “I’m doing it, Charlie.” Jenny placed her husband’s urn atop of the stone memorial she had made for the inn’s back garden.

  The marker was simple. Arched sandstone carved with lines from her favorite poem. Jenny planted bulbs along the border, and in the spring planned perennials so there would be flowers three seasons out of the year. A remembrance garden, to honor her family.

  “I’ve opened the shop and the bed and breakfast,” she continued. “Just like we talked about doing after retirement.” Her fingers brushed the urn’s polished enamel. “I never expected to do this without you, but the fates seem to have their own idea about things.”

  She scanned the rest of the overgrown garden and its adjacent courtyard. The last of autumn’s colors clung to the trees, and she sighed. “It’s a pretty spot, don’tcha think?”

  A breeze swirled a pile of dried leaves in a whirl as if Charlie heard and agreed.

  Jenny hugged her middle, a soft smile on her face. “I knew you would have loved this place the moment I saw it. Come spring, this garden will be breathtaking.”

  Another gust rustled the nearly bare trees, sending a flurry of late fall leaves fluttering toward the ground. She grinned. “Stop complaining. I’m not leaving you out here. The girls couldn’t spare you on the mantlepiece.”

  A meow answered, and Jenny nearly jumped out of her skin as the prettiest cat she’d ever seen circled her legs. He meowed again, weaving between her boots before plopping down on a pile of dry leaves.

  “Well, well. Who do we have here?” She squatted down, but didn’t put out her hand.

  The cat blinked its green eyes and stretched, its black fur rippling in the afternoon sun. He wasn’t all black, though. He had a bright white belly and a dab of white on his forehead and all four feet.

  “Aren’t you very elegant in your tuxedo, sir.” Jenny chuckled. “You remind me of the cat Charlie and I had when we
first married.” She gestured to the urn with her chin. “That’s Charlie, up there in the urn.” Nodding absently, she glanced at the cat who actually seemed to pay attention. “He was definitely a cat lover.”

  The black and white cat meowed, and a genuine laugh warmed Jenny. “You’re not wearing a collar. Are you lost?” Angling her head, she gave the cat a onceover. “You don’t look like a stray. Not with that sleek coat and bright green eyes.”

  The cat settled sphynx-like, with its feet tucked underneath its body, as though perfectly as ease.

  “You hungry?” she asked, straightening from her squat for a paper lunch bag next to Charlie’s urn. “You can share my turkey sandwich. It’s from the deli on the corner.”

  Opening the bag, she took out the butcher paper-wrapped sandwich and pulled a handful of turkey meat from between the bread.

  “Here you go,” she said, squatting again to offer the treat. The cat sat up to sniff the turkey, but instead of taking the snack, he bumped her hand with his forehead.

  Jenny’s lips parted in surprise. Cats bunted heads as a scenting mechanism, but usually with those they trusted. A gesture you wouldn’t expect from an unfamiliar animal.

  He didn’t take the turkey. Instead, he marked her hand with his cheek, purring. “Wow. You are a friendly kitty,” she said, scratching his neck and behind his ears.

  “Well, since we both seem a little out of our elements, why don’t you stick around? The Curious Cat could use a mascot, and besides, what self-respecting inn would be without a house feline?”

  The cat meowed again, bunting her hand once more before darting toward the back garden.

  “Okay, if you’re going to be difficult about it.” She laughed, calling after the cat. “Come back if you change your mind about the turkey, or the mascot thing.”

  With a sigh, Jenny straightened to her feet watching the feline disappear into the overgrowth. “Lord knows I could certainly use the company.”