12 Days of Mistletoe

14. Elliot

FOURTEEN

elliot

Gran’s eyes drop. “Oh, you three , I mean. This must be the dog we’re keeping?”

Bonnie’s cheeks are flushed, but she manages a smile. “Yes. This is Noel.”

Gran bends at the waist, getting a better look at the Golden Doodle. “A service dog. You never mentioned she was a service dog.” But she isn’t looking at Bonnie—no, that accusatory look is staring right at me.

“I—I didn’t know. I said the same thing. How would I have known?”

“Maybe,” Gran says, “if you had talked to the girl in person instead of leaving those silly notes, you would have figured it out sooner.” She huffs, planting her hands on her hips. “Well, come in. All three of you. Let’s get out of the cold, shall we?”

We cross the threshold of Gran and Gramp’s ranch-style home. Everything is on the same level—which is good for my eighty-five-year-old grandmother who insists on doing her own laundry. She leads us through the entry and right into her nice sitting room. I’m not going to lie—with Noel in tow, I was sure we’d end up in the family room where half a dozen grandkids have spilled popcorn and made blanket forts.

Gran sits in the armchair and motions to the couch for Bonnie and me to do the same. “Had I known she was a service animal, I would have made an exception.”

“Really?” Bonnie says. “The lease says–

“That lease is outdated. Something you’ll need to fix, Elliot. Laws have changed, for the better.” Gran pulls in a deep breath. “But it’s too late now, we’ve already made our deal. And a deal is a deal, my dear. No backing out now.”

Bonnie’s grin is tight and forced. “Right,” she says. “A deal is a deal.” She exhales and deflates into the couch cushions, her grin faltering just a little. Noel pops her head onto Bonnie’s knee and Bonnie strokes the pup’s head. “Your home is lovely, May.”

Gran always keeps a nice house, but at Christmastime the place is magical, with garland and twinkling lights over every archway. She has poinsettias in every corner and a tree for every one of her grandkids in the large family room. In a few days, we’ll do our annual Christmas tree cutting and we’ll all help Gran put an eight-foot-tall, real-live pine up in the picture window and decorate it. It’s one of my favorite Christmas traditions. Bing Crosby will sing Christmas carols, and my sisters will argue about who will put the star on top of the tree. In the end, neither will want to climb up the ladder and I’ll end up doing it. It’s tradition.

“Why, thank you. This is my favorite time of year. It was Richard’s too. We loved gathering the kids and decorating.” Gran’s eyes water and she sniffs .

“Richard, your husband?” Bonnie asks. She watches my gran, so sincere with each of her words.

“Yes.” Gran’s eyes and mouth crinkle with her soft smile. “He was wonderful. He passed away a little more than three years ago. Just a few months before your cards started showing up. The first year I got one, I rather needed it. You wrote, ‘You are loved this Christmas season.’ And it’s exactly what an old lady needed to hear.”

“Gran,” I say, my heart aching with her tender memory.

“Oh, Elliot.” She shakes her head. “I knew I was loved. But I was also pouting. It was my first Christmas without Richard, and in my gloom, I’d almost forgotten that one of the reasons I loved him so much was because of the beautiful life we’d built.”

I stand, step over to the chair she sits in, and crouch, giving her a hand to hold. I glance over to Bonnie, who gave my gran a little hope when her hope felt lost without even realizing it.

Bonnie only has eyes for Gran though.

“It’s the very reason I never liked that Jessica,” Gran says, shaking my fingers. “And the minute you realize who your right person is, you’ll understand that too.”

I blink and do my best not to look at Bonnie now. I don’t want to see her face as I’m scrutinized.

With my lack of a response, Gran keeps going. “Well, it’s true. She never wanted a family or a home. She never wanted to get married. She would have been happy tugging you along after her, city to city, far away from your family.”

She’s right, of course. Jess wasn’t interested in a home or a family. I was sure I’d change her mind one day. But I didn’t. So, we went our separate ways. Nope—somebody else changed her mind. It wasn’t that she didn’t want a home or a family, but she didn’t want one with me.

“Well, now, she’s gone,” Gran says. “And Bonnie is here. It’s time we all got to know one another a little better. Don’t you think?”

“Um.” I look at Bonnie, and this time she looks right back at me. “Sure, I mean, we have been talking?—”

“No, no. Lesson number one: mission mistletoe. Kiss the girl. Are you ready?”