A Holiday Lift

by Corinne Michaels

  The next year, we had the most amazing time. And I knew. I knew that Dean was everything.

  He means presents under the tree, dinner with family, snow, and smiles—not work disasters in Tokyo.

  However, like I told his mother, I love him. A single day doesn’t have to define a lifetime. We’ll find a way to salvage Christmas.

  8

  It’s two in the morning on Christmas Eve, and I’m still at my desk. Nothing is going right. I don’t know where the hell this deal fell off the rails, but no matter what I do, it won’t go on track.

  The two owners are talking to each other over the video chat.

  I rub my eyes, exhausted and beyond frustrated. This was supposed to be the deal that set the entire new year off for my team. We were gaining a new brand that would launch multiple products through us.

  I had this done.

  And now it’s slipping through my fingers.

  I drain the remainder of my coffee, praying this caffeine will kick in, and then look at the photo of Holly and I on my desk.

  She’s smiling up at me, her hand resting on my chest as my lips rest on her forehead while the colored lights of the tree shine behind us. It was our first official Christmas as a couple. Last year, after we went to California to see my mom and then had Christmas with her mother, I surprised her with a trip to New York City.

  It didn’t matter that the holiday was over, we went to see the tree, saw a Broadway play, and walked around Central Park hand in hand.

  My client returns. “We would like another meeting,” he requests.

  “Can you give me a few days? Let’s get through the holiday and regroup.”

  “I will discuss it with the owners and let you know in a few hours.”

  That’s the best I can ask for. “Flights are limited, Jon,” I remind him. “I won’t be able to get out until after the holiday, just know that.”

  He nods. “I understand.”

  I will beg, borrow, and steal not to have my plans thwarted. Everything was supposed to be set in motion last night, but I got stuck here.

  “Thank you. Send me an email, it’s late and I need to get some rest.”

  “Thank you, Dean. I’ll be in touch.”

  And with that, I close my laptop and head home, trying to get my thoughts arranged on how to still have it all come together.

  “Dean? Baby, wake up,” Holly’s soft voice calls me from the edge of consciousness. I feel her fingers rake through my hair.

  My eyes open, and I find the woman I love staring down at me. “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  “Come here,” I say, making room for her to snuggle beside me. “I’m sorry about dinner.”

  Holly gets comfortable. “It was fine. Our mothers are now best friends, and I was able to spend some much-needed time with them. It was nice, and it worked out. How did the meetings go?”

  I tuck my one arm up under my head, running my other hand against Holly’s spine. “Not well. I don’t know where the hell it went crazy, but . . . I’m pretty sure I’m going to be heading out there.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s the job, right?”

  She chuckles softly. “It’s definitely what we deal with now. Remember when our biggest issue was the pitch?”

  “Remember how I kicked your ass so many times?”

  Holly lifts her head, looking up at me. “I think you’re confused.”

  “Who got the account when we battled?” I ask with my brow raised.

  “You only got it because I ended up skipping my pitch to go to California.”

  “Ahh. I remember that now.”

  Holly shakes her head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

  I stare at her, my heart in my throat because this isn’t how I planned it. While everything was supposed to be special and perfect last night, for some reason, this moment feels . . . right.

  “Marry me,” I say and shift to sit up, taking her hands in mine. “Marry me, Holly. That’s what I want you to do with me. I love you. I had this grand plan to propose last night, and then I was going to do it tonight. But you’re here, looking at me, and I can’t . . . I can’t think of anything else. I want to be your husband, and I probably shouldn’t have done it like this, but—”

  Her hand touches my lips, silencing me. “Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” Tears fill her eyes, and she smiles. “Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  A lone tear falls down her cheek. “Yes.”

  I take her face in my hands, bringing our mouths together. It’s a mix of tears and smiling as the moment settles around us.

  “I have something for you.” I shift away from her just long enough to grab the ring out of the bottom of my side table. I lift the lid, revealing the ring I had made.

  She gasps. “Dean . . .”

  “I wanted it to be Christmas all year.”

  There, in the box is a large marquise cut solitaire diamond and, on each side, there are three small stones. One ruby and two emeralds, making it look like holly leaves.

  I lift the ring, placing it on her finger. “It’s beautiful. It’s . . . it’s perfect.”

  “You’re perfect.”

  She kisses me again and then pulls back to look at her hand. Now to ensure the rest of my plan actually happens.

  9

  “We’re engaged!” I yell as Dean and I emerge from the bedroom.

  Our mothers rise from the couch and rush toward us. “You did it!” His mother’s grin is wide as she reaches us first. “I’m so happy for you both. Now, God won’t be upset about you living in sin.”

  I want to laugh because it’s not like we’re married, we’re just engaged, but I won’t ruin her mood. It’s Christmas Eve, and she’s happy.

  My mother pulls me into her arms. “Oh, my sweet girl. I couldn’t be any happier.”

  She loves Dean because he’s a great guy who works hard and treats me well but she also wants grandkids and this brings her one step closer to getting them.

  “Thank you.”

  “Your father would be so happy too,” she says a little misty eyed.

  “I wish he were here.”

  Her hand rests on my cheek. “Me too, baby. But he’s here. I feel him all around us this year.”

  “Tomorrow is going to be so special,” his mother says while pressing her hands together. “So special. I just know that it’ll all be magical.”

  Dean gives her a strange look. “Yes, because it’s Christmas.”

  “That’s what I mean. Christmas for you two especially is extra magical.”

  There’s a niggling sense that I’m missing something. My mother grabs my hand, pulling me toward her. “How did he propose?”

  “He just kind of said it. I know it doesn’t sound amazing or romantic, but it was. We were just lying there, smiling, and he asked me to marry him.”

  “I think that’s perfect for you, Holly. You’ve never needed anything big.”

  I haven’t. I like low-key when it comes to things like this. Honestly, I would be completely happy with just these people and maybe my best friend, Chelle, at our wedding. As happy as I am about all of this, there is a brief second of sadness when I realize my dad won’t be here to walk me down the aisle. There won’t be a father-daughter dance. It’ll just be me.

  I push the thought from my head, this is a special day. I’m engaged to the most wonderful man in the world.

  Dean comes behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle. “Are you happy?”

  “Blissfully.”

  “How is this year’s Christmas in comparison? Are you starting to agree that this is the most wonderful time of the year yet?”

  I smile, tilting my head back to look at him. “Most definitely.”

  “Good, and we still have tomorrow.”

  He leans down, giving me a sweet kiss. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Our mothers are clucking like hens about what to c
ook, what to wear, and something else I don’t catch.

  “They’re fast friends,” Dean notes while holding me tight.

  “Thank God. They’re all we have.”

  He laughs and then groans. “As much as I don’t want to, I need to check my email and figure out what’s going on with my client. If I have to leave, there will be very little time to prepare.”

  His mother bristles. “Now? It’s Christmas Eve and we have a big dinner planned. Not to mention, you wanted to take us downtown.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to, Mom, but . . . I can’t neglect this.”

  She sighs with a hint of frustration. “Are you sure you want to marry my son, Holly? A workaholic who can’t put the computer down—not even for the holidays.”

  I laugh and look at him. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with.”

  She humphs and mutters under her breath as she walks into the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “I understand. If this were my big client, I would need to do the same thing.”

  While it’s Christmas and I wish he weren’t stuck working, I get it. I hoped this year we’d be doing things together, but I have tomorrow with him, and with my mother here, it’s not so bad.

  He kisses my temple. “Thank you. I promise, I’ll make it all up to you tomorrow.”

  I grin. “Well, we could always be very quiet tonight.”

  Dean winks. “I look forward to testing that.”

  He heads back into the bedroom, and I go help in the kitchen—and by help, I mean I stand around aimlessly while they fuss over it all. We’re having ham, mashed potato pie (which is basically twice baked potatoes but much more complicated), green beans, and my mother’s famous Pierniki, which is a polish gingerbread.

  Mom calls me over. “Here, you knead the dough, but not too much.”

  I’ve done this every year since I was three. My great-grandma taught my grandma and then she taught my mother and she taught me.

  “Isn’t this wonderful?” Mrs. Pritchard asks. “This is what the holidays are about, it’s family and love.”

  My mother nods. “I was so worried that Holly would end up alone after that last guy she was with.”

  “Could we not?” I ask. “I got engaged today, and I’d like to only think of Dean.”

  “Of course, sweetheart. Dean is a good man. You’re lucky he caught you.”

  I smile, thinking back on that elevator debacle. “I was lucky.”

  Mrs. Pritchard waves her hand. “It was fate.”

  “I think it was a Christmas miracle,” I say as I remember looking up at the mistletoe that was hanging above us.

  This year, I made sure I hung it in our bedroom, which he was more than happy to take advantage of.

  After a few more minutes, Dean enters, and the look on his face says it all. “You lost it?”

  “No, but I have to leave for Tokyo.”

  “When?”

  He closes his eyes. “I don’t know, but I should be getting on a plane right now.”

  “Dean, it’s Christmas,” his mother says.

  When he looks back at me, I can see the regret. “I know. Believe me and . . . God!” he yells in frustration. “I had it all planned.”

  His mother walks over, and places a hand on his shoulder. “Nothing is ever broken that can’t be fixed. We’ll . . . well, we’ll do it today.”

  “Do what?” I ask.

  Dean comes in front of me, his hands taking mine. “I had a plan. When I asked you to marry me, that was only part of it.”

  I blink a few times, not really sure what the heck else there is to it. “Okay . . .”

  “See, I made a promise to you in that elevator. I promised that Christmas would be your favorite time again. I wanted to make you love it again.”

  “You have,” I assure him.

  “I want every memory from this year on to be filled with joy, Holly. I want you to think of us—of all we’ve shared and all that’s still to come.”

  “Dean, you’re not ruining Christmas by going away. It’s a day. A single day in the expanse of our lives together. I love you, and I know that you’re not leaving because you want to.”

  He shakes his head. “If I have to get on a plane tomorrow, then we’re going to make this happen today.” There’s so much determination in his voice that I don’t know how to respond. “Go into the bedroom, and don’t come out until I get you, okay?”

  “Uhh, okay?”

  He kisses me, ignoring that our mothers are standing right there, and then turns me. “Go. I have a lot of work to do.”

  10

  I call the maintenance worker, Nick, who pried us out of that elevator. “Dean? Is everything still set for tomorrow?” he asks.

  “Actually, no. I have an issue and need to see if you can get here today.”

  “Today? You’re going to get married today?”

  “Yes, I have to go out of town unexpectedly.”

  He makes a few noises as though he’s moving around. “I guess I can. When do you need me?”

  “Three hours?”

  “Snow is coming down pretty bad, but I’ll get there. Don’t you worry. I won’t leave you stranded.”

  I laugh because he’s who saved us last time, and it seems that, once again, a bit of snow and some luck is going to save this holiday season.

  “I’ll let you know where we’re having it since all my plans are being changed.”

  “All right. I’ll see you later today.”

  We hang up, and I go in where both our mothers are. “Okay, Charlie will be here, what else do we need to get done?”

  “I called the florist,” Holly’s mother informs us. “She can deliver wherever we need her to in the next hour. She was already done with everything.”

  “Okay.” I turn to my mother. “Well, then I need a venue.”

  I call the restaurant I reserved for tomorrow that overlooks the lake. It’s magical when the navy pier is lit up and everything is covered in snow, so it would’ve been . . . perfect. However, they explain that they can’t accommodate a spur-of-the moment wedding, even if it’s only six people. Me, Holly, my mother and hers makes four.

  Shit. I need to text Holly’s best friend, Chelle, and my best man, Brian.

  * * *

  Me: I know this is last minute, but can you come now?

  * * *

  Chelle: Now? For what?

  * * *

  Me: I have to leave for Tokyo, so we’re going to do this now.

  * * *

  Chelle: Oh! Okay! I’ll head over.

  * * *

  She only lives a few blocks away, so that won’t be an issue.

  Next to tell Brian, who was going to head to the bar with the girl he was banging last year. They have some weird pact, and . . . well, he’s a damn mess.

  * * *

  Me: Please tell me you’re sober and not hooking up with your ex or whatever the hell you call this girl.

  * * *

  Brian: What’s wrong?

  * * *

  Me: I’m getting married today, and I need you to get here.

  * * *

  Brian: I thought it was tomorrow.

  * * *

  Me: Change of plans.

  * * *

  Brian: I’ll be there in an hour.

  * * *

  There’s something I’m forgetting.

  “The cake.”

  My mother smiles. “Don’t you worry about that. Give Meredith and I two hours and we’ll have a cake done.”

  Holly’s mother smiles. “Kayti and I will handle it. You get yourself ready.”

  “Where do we do this?” I ask. “I can’t get the restaurant today, which means no food. Shit.”

  “Dean, we have a feast here.”

  “She’s going to hate this.”

  Her mother shakes her head. “You’re planning a wedding for a Christmas gift. She will not hate a single thing.”

  I really freaking hope no
t. When I came up with this, it all sounded good. It was a no fuss, easy wedding without any of the stress. She has been so busy and it wasn’t about a wedding for me, it’s about the marriage. I want to start our lives together—easy and low maintenance.

  I wanted stress free, but now it’s a fucking mess.

  I try to think of other venue options and then it hits me.

  The place I took her on our first real date: the museum.

  And I happen to have a connection. I text Chelle.

  * * *

  Me: Can have the wedding at the museum?

  * * *

  Chelle: We’re closed now, but I can call my boss and ask.

  * * *

  Me: Okay, let me know.

  * * *

  After a few minutes she texts me back.

  * * *

  Chelle: We’re good. They just said I have to make sure it’s cleaned up. I’ll text you details to have things delivered without anyone seeing and all that.

  * * *

  Me: You’re a lifesaver.

  * * *

  I let everyone know where to meet, which actually works out perfectly. Now, I can have something special for Holly.

  With a plan in place, I head into the bedroom and find her lying on the bed with her ereader.

  “Reading anything good?”

  She smiles. “Well, the hero just told the heroine how special she is and how he wouldn’t want to live another day without her. It was so sweet.”