Mistletoe Motel

18. Holly

Chapter 18

Holly

A s they pulled into the familiar driveway, a wave of nostalgia washed over Holly. The two-story colonial house where she grew up stood before them, looking exactly as it had for the past thirty years. The redbrick exterior, the white shutters framing each window, the neatly trimmed hedges lining the front walkway—it was all just as she remembered.

Holly took a deep breath, steeling herself as she stepped out of the car. The cold Minnesota air nipped at her cheeks, a stark contrast to the warmth she’d felt just hours ago in Mack’s arms. She pushed the thought aside, reminding herself to focus on the present moment. This reunion with her parents was too important to be distracted.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” her mom said, coming around the car to give her another hug. Her embrace was tentative, as if she was afraid Holly might pull away. Holly leaned into it, trying to convey without words that she was here, that she wanted this to work.

Her dad was already at the trunk, pulling out her bag. “I’ll take this inside,” he said, and Holly noticed the slight stoop to his shoulders that wasn’t there the last time she visited.

They headed inside and the scent of cinnamon and pine enveloped her. Her mom had always gone all out with the Christmas decorations, and this year was no exception. Garlands draped the staircase banister, twinkling lights framed the windows, and a massive Christmas tree dominated the corner of the living room.

“You’ve outdone yourself this year, Mom,” Holly said, taking in the festive atmosphere.

Her mom gave a small smile. “Well, I wanted everything to be perfect for your visit.”

The words hung in the air between them, laden with unspoken hope and fear. Holly swallowed hard, pushing down the lump forming in her throat. “It looks wonderful.”

She followed her mom into the kitchen, and her eyes were drawn to the refrigerator. There, held by a faded magnet shaped like a smiling sun, was a drawing she had made when she was six years old. The crayon lines were faded now, but she could still make out the stick figure family—Mom, Dad, and herself, holding hands under a rainbow. The paper was yellowed with age, the edges slightly curled. Yet here it was, still proudly displayed after all these years. It was such a small thing, but it spoke volumes about the love and hope that had always been present in this house, even when words failed them.

When Holly traced the outlines of the drawing, her mom came to stand beside her. “It’s one of my favorite things you’ve ever made.”

Holly’s gaze drifted to the hallway, where she could see the door to her old bedroom. She didn’t need to open it to know what was inside. The last time she slept there, it was like stepping back in time—the same pink sheets on the bed, the shelf still lined with her old Nancy Drew mysteries. It was as if that room had been frozen in time, waiting for the girl she used to be to return.

Her mom placed a gentle hand on her arm. “It’s so good to have you back, Holly,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Holly turned to her, seeing the mix of love and uncertainty in her eyes. “It’s good to be back,” she replied, meaning it more than she expected to.

“Why don’t we make some coffee?” her mom suggested. “Your father’s settling in the living room to rest after the drive.”

Holly nodded, grateful for the familiar routine. As she filled the coffeemaker, her mom bustled around, pulling mugs from the cupboard, and brought out homemade cookies that smelled like they were baked last night. It was a dance they’d performed countless times over the years, and Holly found comfort in the steps.

When she opened the fridge to grab the milk, Holly was faced with a beautifully decorated cake on one shelf, while a large turkey took up most of the bottom compartment. Various side dishes in clear containers were stacked neatly, ready to be heated.

“Christmas dinner?” she asked, a lump forming in her throat. Despite their strained relationship over the past year, they had prepared everything, hoping she would come home.

Her mom nodded. “What time do you want to eat?”

Holly hesitated, remembering all the Christmas Eves spent at the candlelight service, Christmas mornings singing carols and listening to the familiar story of Jesus’ birth. It had always been a cornerstone of their family traditions, but now… “That depends. Were you planning on eating before or after church?”

“Maybe this year, we can skip church and just catch up?” her mom said.

Holly blinked, stunned by the suggestion. “Are you sure?” She searched her mom’s face for any sign of reluctance but found none.

“Yes. I’ve discussed it with your father. We have a lot to catch up on and talk about, and we don’t want to waste any more time.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Holly’s eyes. This simple gesture meant more to her than she could express. “I’d like that.”

So much had happened in the past few days—meeting Mack, their whirlwind connection, and now this unexpected olive branch from her parents, who genuinely seemed to be trying to accept who she was. It was overwhelming but in the best possible way.

They carried their mugs of coffee into the living room, where her dad was sitting in his favorite armchair by the fireplace. He looked up as they entered, a tentative smile on his face.

“So, Holly,” he said, “tell us about your work. How are things at the firm?”

Holly sat on the couch next to her mom and launched into a description of her latest case, grateful for the safe topic. As she talked, she could see her parents hanging on every word, genuinely interested in her life. It was nothing like their last conversation, where every word felt like it was being scrutinized and judged.

They continued to talk about her work, about the latest gossip from church—which her mom filled her in on despite their decision to skip the service—about her dad’s golf game and her mom’s book club. It was all very normal, very familiar, and yet there was an undercurrent of something new—an openness, a willingness to listen and understand.

Eventually, there was a lull in the conversation. Holly knew they were all thinking about the elephant in the room.

“Mom, Dad,” she began. “Thank you for coming to get me. I know things have been…difficult between us.”

They exchanged a glance, and her mom reached out to take her hand. “We love you, Holly,” she said softly. “We always have, and we always will. We may not understand everything, but we want to try.”

Her dad leaned forward in his chair. “Your mother and I have done a lot of talking, a lot of praying. We…we weren’t fair to you before. We let our fears and our preconceptions cloud our judgment. And we’re sorry for that.”

Holly felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she blinked them back. “It’s okay,” she said. “It was a shock for you. Maybe I should have handled it better.”

“No,” her mom said firmly. “You were brave to tell us, and we should have supported you from the start. We’re your parents. That’s our job. Unfortunately, we didn’t realize what damage we’d done until we feared we’d lost you.”

A tear escaped, rolling down Holly’s cheek. “I’ve missed you both so much,” she whispered.

Her dad stood up abruptly, crossing the room to sit on her other side. He put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “We’ve missed you too, sweetheart,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, they just sat there, the three of them huddled together on the couch. Relief washed over Holly in waves, mingled with a tentative hope that she’d been afraid to nurture for so long. The warmth of her parents’ embrace, the sincerity in their words—it was everything she’d longed for since that fateful day she came out to them. Yet, beneath the joy, there was still a whisper of fear. Could it really be this easy? Would their acceptance last when faced with the reality of her life, of potentially dating someone like Mack? But as she felt her father’s strong arm around her and her mother’s hand in hers, Holly chose to silence that doubt, at least for now. This moment, this tentative reconciliation, felt like a fragile, precious gift. And as she blinked back tears, she realized that for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was truly home—not just in this house, but in her parents’ hearts.