The Mistletoe Melody

by Jennifer Snow

  “Not really. Just heating one of the pumpkin pies I’ve had frozen since Thanksgiving. Do you want a slice?” Her mother led the way to the kitchen, where she filled the coffeemaker’s reservoir with water and set it to brew.

  “No, thanks. Coffee would be great, though.” She sat down at the table and noted the mess in her mother’s kitchen. Seven different rolls of wrapping paper and every color ribbon and bow imaginable littered the island in the center of the kitchen. Rolls of tape, scissors and gift tags lay on the chair across from her, and across the tabletop were dozens of presents still to be wrapped. Her mother rushed to hide one in the pantry. “You can’t see that one,” she said with a smile.

  “You didn’t need to get me anything, Mom,” Melody said, setting the hockey pads down among the still-to-be-wrapped gifts.

  “Sure, I did. You may be an adult now, but you’re still my daughter.” Reaching for her purse, she retrieved several bills and handed them to Melody. “Thanks again for getting those—saves me a trip. How’s the new position going?”

  Melody lowered her eyes and shifted in her seat. She may have been an adult, but it was still hard to reveal disappointing news to her mom. Growing up, whenever they did something wrong, her parents never said they were angry, just disappointed, which was much worse. How many times would she have preferred a smack on the bottom to the we-thought-we-taught-you-better speech? “Um...”

  “What’s wrong?” Her mother sat down across the table from her.

  “I didn’t finish the management exam last week.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because of David’s suspension.”

  Her mother’s eyes widened.

  “Dad didn’t tell you?”

  “No! How does he know?”

  “He pulled me over for speeding on the way to the school.”

  Her mother rested her forehead against the palm of her hand. “Tell me this story gets better somewhere.”

  “I wish I could,” Melody said, but she still hadn’t heard from Greg Harrison regarding taking the exam again early. It didn’t look promising, and she wasn’t sure how to tell her mother about the foreclosure notice.

  June stood, poured them each a cup of coffee and went back to her place at the table. “I’ve got the feeling I’ll need coffee for this.”

  Melody took a sip of hers before beginning. “They say I can take the management exam again in three months.”

  “I’m sure you’re not accepting that as the final word.”

  “No, I’ve been calling Greg Harrison every day. I’m hoping he’ll make an exception.”

  “Remind him he stole your brother’s girlfriend. That might work.”

  “As if I hadn’t already thought of that,” Melody said with a laugh. “Though, really, we should be thanking him for that.” Greg’s stealing Emily Parsons from Ethan had paved the way for Bailey to act on her feelings for him.

  Her mother laid a comforting hand on hers. “Speaking of Bailey and Ethan, they were here last night. She told us about the fiasco at the garage yesterday morning with Brad. She was so sorry she’d been unable to drive you to work.”

  Melody’s smile faded. “Yeah, well, that was Brad’s fault. He...wanted to get my attention.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s trying to convince me to hand over some of the old music. He’s looking for a hit song.”

  She waited for her mother’s reaction, feeling again like a nineteen-year-old who was telling her parents she’d decided not to go to college the fall after high school. That she planned to pursue a career in music instead. It had taken weeks to build up the courage to reveal to her parents she’d never mailed the college application forms. She’d known even at such a young age that college wasn’t the right path for her, and that the path she wanted to follow was unsteady and unreliable. Her parents’ initial disappointment had been what she’d expected.

  “I’m not going to give him the song, of course,” she added.

  Her mother studied her for a long moment.

  “Mom?”

  Her mother took a sip of her coffee before saying, “Why not?”

  Huh? “You think I should help Brad Monroe?”

  “I—”

  “The guy responsible for Patrick’s death?”

  “Well, I just—”

  “The guy who hasn’t had the decency to come back here for three years and who now has suddenly returned, forcing his family to go along with a promotional stunt?” Her mother couldn’t be serious. “Why on earth would I ever help him?”

  “Can I talk now?” June asked.

  “Sorry, yes. Go ahead.”

  “Because I think it’s about time.” She emptied half a packet of sweetener into her coffee.

  “About time for what?” Was her mother suggesting it was time to move on? Forgive Brad for the accident?

  “It’s time you woke up and started dreaming again,” June said with a soft smile.

  “What?” Was she hearing her mother correctly?

  “Melody, for three years you haven’t stopped long enough to take a breath. Working three jobs to support the twins, never asking for help, doing everything on your own. And while your father and I couldn’t be more proud of you for taking care of your responsibilities, it’s been so disheartening to see you move away from your dreams.”

  “But you guys weren’t exactly thrilled when I married Patrick and started pursuing a life in music.”

  “No, we weren’t thrilled when you married Patrick and you helped him pursue a life in music. You haven’t made music for yourself in a long time.”

  “I still wouldn’t really be doing it for me. I mean Brad will get to record the song...” A song that meant everything to her. She shook her head.

  Her mother smiled. “Don’t forget royalties, honey.”

  “They do help,” she muttered. Over the years, the royalties from the first album had helped supplement her income from her jobs.

  “And you don’t honestly think he’ll stop at one song, do you?” her mother continued. “And neither will you. It would be a step in the right direction, Mel.”

  She bit her lip, contemplating her mother’s words. “I don’t think any direction Brad Monroe is going would be the right one.”

  Her mother shrugged. “Just ask yourself this—is preventing Brad from getting what he wants satisfying, when you’re also preventing yourself from getting what you’ve always wanted?”

  * * *

  “HEY, MAN, I DIDN’T expect to see you. I thought you were leaving yesterday,” Luke said as he and Victoria approached the entrance of the tree farm.

  That had been the plan. “So did I, but I decided to stick around until after the holidays to help Troy out around here.” He felt guilty that it hadn’t been his idea. He’d almost forgotten how busy this time of year was for his family. They hired several high school kids to help, but the majority of the workload rested on Troy and Breanne.

  “I’m sure he appreciates that.”

  “Actually, I’m surprised to see you here. Don’t you usually go into the woods and cut down your own tree?” Brad knew his buddy had no problem buying one from the farm, but cutting their own had been a tradition between Luke and his best friend Jim, Melody’s brother, for years.

  Victoria panted slightly as she moved toward them, the trek from the truck seeming to have drained her energy. She looked pale...or slightly green. “Yeah, I vetoed that trip this year.”

  “Too dangerous,” Luke said, rolling his eyes.

  Ah, married life, Brad thought. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you two to find your perfect tree...”

  The sound of Victoria vomiting in the bushes behind them made him cringe.

  Luke rushed to her. “You okay?”

  She looked em
barrassed as she straightened up and wiped her mouth. “Sorry, Brad. Must be the seafood I had for lunch.”

  Sure. “No worries. Happens all the time. Why don’t you head inside to freshen up? Mom’s in there.” He nodded toward the house.

  “I think I will, thanks,” she said, heading for the house.

  “Seafood, huh?” Brad asked Luke with a raised eyebrow.

  “Must be,” he said, but his proud smile gave everything away. “Anyway, since you’re sticking around, you should join us for a game of pickup hockey on the lake behind the house sometime this week.”

  Brad nodded. Exercise might be a good idea, since he was now planning to stick around. “Yeah, sure. I’ll dig out my old equipment.”

  Three hours later, he’d yet to find his hockey gear in the family’s storage space in the garage. Going inside, he called out to his mother. “Mom!”

  “In the kitchen,” she said, over the clanging of metal bowls and pans.

  “Where’s my old hockey gear?” he asked, entering and reaching for a gingerbread cookie from the tray on the counter. He dropped it and shook his hand. “Ow, hot.”

  “They just came out of the oven. You mean the hockey equipment we bought you when you were twelve? The equipment you used twice before deciding hockey wasn’t your thing?”

  “Yes.”

  “We donated it to Legends Sporting Goods before it closed years ago.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Oh, let me think. Firstly, you would never fit into those pads anymore, and secondly, you haven’t been home so you haven’t had a chance to tell me what old stuff you want to keep.” She paused. “Actually, now that you’re here...”

  Great. He shouldn’t have asked.

  Another two hours later, after sorting through all of his old items in the garage and rearranging his mother’s holiday decorations as he’d promised, he slipped out unnoticed before she could add more items to the ever-growing to-do list she’d started for him. Moments later he pulled his rental into the Play Hard lot and jogged to the front of the store.

  This location was bigger than the one in Nashville and he wasn’t surprised to see how busy it was. Luke might have fought against the store in the beginning, hoping to preserve Legends as a town landmark, but even he couldn’t deny the benefits of the new store. Heading straight to the hockey section, he selected pads and a new stick, and then proceeded to the busy checkout.

  A friendly young woman repeated her spiel to him when it was his turn. “Happy Holidays from Play Hard Sports. Did you find everything okay?”

  All but one thing. “Is Melody working today?” He scanned the store.

  “You just missed her. She took off an hour early. Said she wanted to bring her boys to see Santa before the mall closes today.”

  “Santa, right. Thanks,” he said, handing over his credit card and checking his watch. He knew exactly where he was going next.

  * * *

  “YOU’RE STILL HERE. Impressive. Did you not notice the to-do list posted on the fridge?” his sister Breanne said when she came home later that day.

  “Yeah, Mom must think I’m staying for a month.” Brad still hadn’t made up his mind about just how long he would be in town. He had nothing on his touring schedule until mid-January, except for a New Year’s Eve performance in Times Square, and he was scheduled to record in the studio the day after Christmas. But for now, he really had no reason to rush back. Melody’s cutting inquiry as to why he was home had definitely affected him. His excuse that he had stayed away for the sake of everyone in town was wearing thin. He couldn’t run from the past anymore.

  “Are you staying for Christmas?” Breanne asked, lowering her voice as they headed toward the kitchen.

  “I’m not sure yet.” He didn’t see why not, but he didn’t want to get the kids’ hopes up only to disappoint them if his plans had to change for some reason. He would stay at least until Christmas Eve, after which Troy wouldn’t need him anymore.

  He followed her into the kitchen, where the kids were doing homework at the table. Darius’s face lit up. “Uncle Brad!” He jumped up from his chair and ran to hug him.

  “That never gets old,” Brad said, hugging him back. “Hey, guys, I have a surprise for you.”

  “What?” they asked in unison.

  “Yeah, what?” His sister seemed curious, as well.

  “I thought we could go see Santa at the mall tonight.” It was a tradition they’d had when he lived in Brookhollow. His sister hated the long lines at Santa’s Village in the mall and the crowds frustrated her. He knew she’d have finished her shopping in November. But he didn’t mind the hustle and bustle of the season. Brookhollow was usually so quiet and relaxed that he enjoyed watching people frantically shopping for everything on their Christmas lists while festive music played overhead. Seeing how excited the kids were to meet the man of the season was the biggest perk.

  “No, thanks,” Gracie said.

  He did a double take. “What? What do you mean, no, thanks? We used to go every year before I moved to Nashville.”

  “Darius, plug your ears,” Gracie said.

  “I’m not a kid, Gracie. I know the secret about Santa, too.”

  Brad shot a look at his sister.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Breanne said, pulling Brad out into the hall, away from the kids. “We had to tell them. Last year Gracie put a three-hundred-dollar Barbie convertible on her secret list to Santa and cried all day when she didn’t get it. We can’t afford that stuff.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He wasn’t making millions off his music, but he could certainly have afforded an extravagant Christmas present.

  “Why? So you could continue being the cool, rich uncle who never visits?”

  That struck a chord. “I’m here now. I’m staying for Christmas.” He hung his head. “It’s overdue and I’m sorry.”

  His sister stepped forward and hugged him. “Yes, it’s about time.”

  He couldn’t change the past, so maybe he had to start focusing on the future.

  * * *

  THIS TIME OF YEAR, the Brookview Square Mall bustled with holiday shoppers. David and Josh sang along to “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” as they made their way to the North Pole Santa Village set up in the center of the mall, near the food court.

  A line of children, all dressed in their Sunday best, wrapped around the outside of Santa’s hut. Melody bit her lip as she glanced at her boys in their school uniforms of gray dress pants and navy sweaters over white shirts. “Sorry, guys, I hadn’t thought of bringing you home to change your school clothes first.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” David assured her, waving to a kid from his class farther up in the line.

  “There you guys are!” a loud voice said behind her.

  Turning, she saw Brad, who was holding Darius’s hand. “Huh?” She hadn’t been meeting them there. Annoyance washed over her at the sight of him. Hadn’t he been on his way to the airport the day before?

  “We saved your place in line,” he said to the twins, nodding toward the front of the line, where Gracie, in a red velvet dress, wore a look of annoyance that matched Melody’s.

  “That’s okay, Brad. We’ll get in the back of the line,” Melody whispered. Waiting three hours to see Santa would be better than waiting in line with him.

  “Trust me, it’s fine.” He took Josh’s extended hand and led the way.

  “Brad,” Melody hissed. He continued on, ignoring her. “Josh.” The little boy just shrugged.

  “Win some, lose some, hey?” David asked as he, too, followed Brad.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled to the crowd as they made their way beside Gracie. When they stopped, Melody turned to Brad. “I thought you were leaving.”

  “Well, I thought about what yo
u said and decided you were right.”

  She frowned. She had absolutely no memory of telling Brad to stay in Brookhollow. She’d hoped her harsh words a few nights before would have been enough to send him on his way. “I said something?”

  “Yeah, you said the only reason I was here was to use my family to further my career.”

  Okay, she remembered saying that.

  “So I’m staying to help out at the farm and to spend Christmas with my folks.”

  Fantastic. She shouldn’t have opened her big mouth.

  “And I was also hoping to convince you to sell me that song you mentioned.”

  There it was. The real reason he was staying. “You’d be wasting your time to even try.” She’d poured all of her heart into “When Love Finds You.” It was special and deeply personal. Patrick had never even gotten the chance to hear it. She’d be damned if Brad would.

  “It’s our turn, Mom,” David said, nudging her forward as the line moved.

  “Okay, let Gracie and Darius go first, since they did let us cut in line.” She held her eager son back.

  “It’s fine, Ms. Melody,” Gracie said, pushing the boys ahead. “We really didn’t even want to see Santa. Uncle Brad insisted we had to...tonight. I was planning to watch How The Grinch Stole Christmas.” She folded her arms across her chest.

  “Why did you decide to come?” she asked Gracie. She noticed Brad shaking his head behind the little girl’s shoulder. She gestured for him to stop.

  “He paid us. And we’re supposed to ask you to join us for hot chocolate after, too.”

  Melody raised an eyebrow as she turned her attention to Brad. “Not using your family, huh?”

  * * *

  “YOU KIDS ARE never going to get to sleep tonight,” Melody said an hour later.

  The twins and Gracie and Darius sat in the corner booth at Joey’s across from Melody and Brad, their hot chocolate mugs overflowing with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles, a candy cane draped over the edge of the cup. Ice cream sundaes sat melting in bowls on the table, and only the crumbs remained of the chocolate chip cookies he’d treated them all to.