“Hi, Mom, I ended up getting an earlier bus—I hope you weren’t waiting long,” he said, in a voice deeper than I’d ever heard before. “I texted you but never heard back… anyway… Merry Christmas!” Then he threw his arms around me and it was all I could do to keep my tears in check.

  ***

  I spent the car ride back trying to play it cool, which wasn’t my strong suit. Fortunately, Finn was used to how I was, so even if he didn’t know about the whole ‘five years into the future’ deal going on, he wasn’t put off by the million and one questions I threw at him.

  It was so strange, to see my son all grown up. He seemed so mature, such an adult, even at eighteen which was still barely more than a kid. Finn radiated a kind of calm happiness, yet I could still see little flashes of the boy I knew so well. I could still see the boy in the way he smiled, the way he laughed, how he turned to watch things out the window, all of it made my heart ache, but there was a sweetness to it, too—a sweetness to knowing just how wonderful Finn would turn out.

  It was nice, having Finn all to myself, even if it was just for the car ride. I got to hear about his school, what classes he was taking, how he was enjoying it, and what he’d been up to. It had been eye-opening to see him in action with the young woman at the park, too. Not only was it clear that my son was still the kind-hearted, compassionate person he’d always been, but it was also a relief to see him so comfortable with his own power and abilities.

  Part of the reason I’d dug my heels in so hard regarding Finn learning magic, was because every time he helped someone, he seemed to lose a piece of himself in the process. It was almost like the magic ended up draining him. Magic could be dangerous. I knew that better than most.

  Ever since we’d moved to the Hollow, I’d been chased, attacked, and even landed in the hospital a couple of times. Finn himself had been haunted, abducted, and terrified by a mad vampire. I was happy to teach him magic as a way to defend himself, but I was afraid at the same time.

  But there was no sign of any weakness or exhaustion in him now as he sat there beside me, chatting and laughing. He sat easily in his seat, just happy to be home for the holidays.

  We were about halfway to Haven Hollow when, from the backseat, Finn’s bag wriggled. I jumped and fought not to jerk the wheel. “What in the world?”

  “Oh, sorry.” Finn twisted in his seat, reaching back to undo the zipper on his bag. “I told Ouire he could come out once we were in the car and on the way.”

  Ouire then wriggled free and squirmed into the front seat with Finn. I had to laugh. The way the book placed the corners of his leather cover on the door, the red ribbon bookmark wagging furiously behind him, Ouire looked like a dog ready to stick his head out the car window.

  The book looked well cared for, the gilded edges of his pages gleaming in the sunlight. The leather of his cover looked like Finn might have actually oiled it.

  Finn stroked a hand down the book’s spine. “Sorry, buddy. I didn’t mean to leave you in there so long.”

  Ouire didn’t seem offended, just excited to peek out the widows and sit on Finn’s lap. I hoped no one we drove past glanced over to look into the Jeep, because there was no way to explain the book. But I wasn’t concerned enough to order the poor book back into Finn’s duffel. Truth be told, I was glad Ouire was still a part of Finn’s life.

  And, of course, seeing Ouire made me think back to my meeting with Andre. My heart gave a painful twinge, but I pushed the feeling away. I couldn’t think about that meeting now. I wasn’t sure how much more time I had in this scenario (and hoped upon hope I wasn’t stuck here indefinitely, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t be—that this little trip into the future was the exact gift Noelle said it would be—a gift to allow me to make a decision in my own time that would affect the rest of my life).

  And that was something I could think about later. For now, Finn was growing up before my eyes, present or future, and any time I got to spend with him was precious. I didn’t want to waste any of it worrying about other things.

  Because the truth was that none of it mattered. All that did matter was right here and right now. The rest… well, the rest I could figure out later.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Somehow, I remembered to pick up eggs once we reached Haven Hollow, and Finn, who at six-foot-three now towered over me, carried the grocery bag inside for me.

  He whistled for Ouire, who was bounding around in the snow as Finn shouldered the door open. “Hey, come on, buddy. Don’t get your pages wet.”

  I had to laugh, watching the book shake itself and race into the house like an excited puppy.

  I closed the door behind us and started peeling off my winter layers as Finn set his duffle bag down.

  Marty came out of the kitchen then, wiping his hands on a dish towel. His face split into a wide grin, eyes crinkling up as soon as he saw Finn. Then the two were crossing the distance that separated them and hugging one another.

  “Finn!” Marty all but sang. “I can’t wait to hear all your college stories! You got a girlfriend yet?”

  “Not yet,” Finn managed with a shy smile as Marty thunked him on the back and then directed him to the kitchen.

  “It’s just a matter of time with a mug like that! Hey, you’re just in time for my world-famous eggnog!”

  “I thought that’s why I was picking up eggs?” I called out as Finn gave me a look that said he disliked Marty’s ‘world-famous eggnog’ as much as I did.

  “Nah, I just used the ones you had in the fridge so it’s a good thing you got more!”

  In spite of everything, all my doubts and worries, seeing Marty with his arm slung around Finn’s shoulder as they headed into the kitchen, brought a warmth to my chest like summer sunlight.

  Even so, I still couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.

  ***

  It was a wonderful night, with far too much food and movies and cuddling under the blankets. We watched all our holiday favorites, and Marty and Finn ganged up on me until I finally relented and we watched Die Hard.

  All the while, I pushed away my doubts, but they kept creeping back in—seemingly whenever my mind wasn’t focused on something else. It was like the shadows in the corners of your bedroom as a kid—just waiting to make themselves known when you’re not paying attention.

  Even though I loved watching Finn with Marty and witnessing the incredible man my son had become, there was still a strange hollowness to my joy, aching and empty like a missing tooth I just couldn’t stop prodding with my tongue.

  Eventually we all turned in, Finn to his old room and Marty and me to ours. Marty fell asleep almost instantly, the bed trembling with the sound of his snores. It was only then that I realized I still wasn’t wearing my rings—they were out in the center consul of the Jeep.

  I lay awake for a long time, staring at the familiar ceiling of my room. I just couldn’t get my mind to quiet, my thoughts racing around inside my head like a dog chasing its own tail. Something close to dread built inside my chest, weighing down my lungs and making it hard to breathe.

  Lying there in the dark, watching the red numbers on my alarm clock ticking over was almost unbearable. It wasn’t until they flipped to midnight, Christmas Day, that my eyelids finally slid closed and I fell into a fitful sleep.

  When I opened my eyes again, it was morning.

  The first faint traces of dawn outside were sneaking through my curtains and painting the ceiling with soft gray light. Everything was still, and quiet. It was the kind of hush that only winter mornings have, when the snow outside muffles the whole world.

  The quiet tipped me off, but I craned my neck to the side just to check. Sure enough, the other side of my bed was empty, with no sign of Marty anywhere. The sheets on that side were cool to the touch, and I sagged back against the bed with something that was a little too close to relief.

  “What a dream,” I said to myself even as I shook my head and wondered if it really was a dream. It just… well, if it was just a dream then it was the most realistic dream I’d ever had.

  When I shifted my head, something crinkled in my hair, and I sat up in surprise. Whatever it was had slipped between the pillows, and it took me a minute to fish it back out again in the pre-dawn light.

  But once I did fish it out, I had to smile. It was a candy cane, one of those from Sweeter Haunts, all wrapped up with a red satin ribbon tied into a perfect bow. A little gift card hung off the ribbon, and when I twisted it around and squinted at it, I could make out the words ‘To Poppy, Merry Christmas’ written on it in beautiful calligraphy.

  Even though there was no mention of the gift giver, I knew.

  Noelle.

  I fell back onto my pillows, the candy cane clutched to my chest.

  Then, thinking better of it, I bolted upright and ran over to the mirror hanging on the wall. And what I saw there made me smile—no extra wrinkles or extra grays in sight. I sagged against the wall, my forehead pressed against the cool glass.

  Glancing down at the candy cane in my hand, I could only laugh as I pieced together the puzzle—that had been no dream. I’d been visited by the Spirit of Christmas and granted a vision into a possible future. I was fairly sure that’s exactly what had happened and I couldn’t say I was that surprised. This was Haven Hollow, after all—a place where the extraordinary was commonplace.

  So now the question was: was the life I’d just witnessed—the future that lay before me if I chose to stay with Marty—was it the life I wanted? It was a good life, comfortable and affectionate even, but I hadn’t grown to love Marty passionately and truthfully, I couldn’t say that he seemed all that passionately in love with me, either. Instead, it had appeared like we’d just sort of plateaued.

  So I had to wonder: how much did passion mean to me? How important was it to be in love with someone versus just loving them? And what about passion fading?

  No.

  The word just sort of shotgunned through my head.

  No.

  No. No. No.

  NO!

  I couldn’t marry Marty.

  The truth just sort of beat me over the head as I stood standing there in front of my bedroom mirror, candy cane clutched to my chest.

  Whether I’d had a Christmas wish granted or not, the answer was obvious.

  It didn’t matter if it faded; it didn’t matter if it wasn’t the safe choice: I wanted passion.

  I wanted sparks, and romance and butterflies every time I thought of the man I loved.

  And that wasn’t going to happen if I continued down the road I was currently on. More than that—this indecision and reluctance and fear—none of it was fair to Marty.

  He deserved more. He deserved someone who was crazy about him, who was eager and excited by the idea of marrying him.

  And I just couldn’t give him that.

  I had to break it off. It was as simple as that.

  And the sooner the better.

  Of course, I didn’t like to think about it because breaking it off meant breaking Marty’s heart and he was the last person I would ever want to hurt. But I also didn’t want to lead him on and make him think I loved him the way he wanted me to. That was worse.

  No, the Band-Aid needed to be yanked off so the healing could start.

  And with some luck, and maybe a Christmas miracle or two, we’d be able to get back to where we were before all the other stuff started happening. Hopefully someday we could be friends again, just the way we had been when I’d first moved to Haven Hollow.

  It might have been selfish of me, but I didn’t want to lose one of my best friends.

  Feeling both guilty, and strangely light, I made my way quietly down the stairs to put on a pot of coffee and to start pulling Christmas breakfast together.

  I’d just finished mixing up the pancake batter, when there was the sound of feet on the stairs, and Finn burst into the kitchen, grinning widely.

  “Merry Christmas, Mom!” He hurried across the kitchen and flung his arms around me.

  A little startled, I shoved the bowl back onto the counter before I dropped it, and then happily returned the hug.

  I smoothed Finn’s hair off his forehead, and pulled him away as I beamed up at him. Looking into his big, blue eyes, I saw a glimpse of the man he’d become even if the soft, rounded lines of his face seemed to belie that truth. Even as I fought against them, tears burned at the corners of my eyes, and I had to blink a few times to push them back.

  Time was passing.

  Finn was growing up, getting older with each and every day.

  But for now, for this moment, I had my son in my arms, and that was the best sort of present.

  I planted a kiss on his forehead, and he didn’t even grumble.

  “Merry Christmas, Finn.”

  ***

  After all the madness of Christmas morning, once presents were opened, breakfast was eaten, and things were at least partially cleaned up, Finn offhandedly mentioned that some of his friends from school were planning on doing some tobogganing at one of the bigger hills in town. I could tell by the overly casual way he brought the topic up that he was gauging how I felt about it before outright asking. I had to press my lips together to keep from smiling.

  “Do you want to go with them?”

  “Is that okay?”

  “Sure… as long as you’re back before dinner.”

  Finn’s head shot up, his eyes shining. “Really?”

  I did smile then. ‘Really’, he was asking me. As though he hadn’t been a walking lie detector since he was just out of diapers. My son might have been growing into being a Magician, but he was born of Scottish Traveller blood, and that magic had come to him first.

  “Of course,” I said, flattening one last box. “Have fun, and be careful. Just be home before dark. Don’t forget, your uncles are coming for dinner.”

  “Yes! Thanks, Mom, you’re the best.” Finn gave me another hug before hurrying to put his coat on.

  Normally, we spent the whole of Christmas day together. But holding Finn back wouldn’t help anything—especially when he obviously wanted to play in the snow with his friends. Part of me wanted to make him stay home though, like I could hoard the time I still had while he was young.

  But truthfully, letting Finn go out with his friends was a teeny bit selfish. Because I just needed a little space to clear my mind. It had been really stressful, spending the morning with Marty while coming to terms with what I knew I had to do. Lucky for me, Finn was distracted by everything holiday related and wasn’t paying close attention to Marty and me. That would have been a horrible time for his lie detecting ability to kick in, before I’d had a chance to even speak with Marty. Or with Finn. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but whether it was Christmas magic, or my own subconscious, I knew a future with Marty wouldn’t make me happy.

  So once Finn was out the door, calling out one last promise not to be late, and after I had the turkey in the oven, I decided to go for a walk to clear my head.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  It was the perfect Christmas day, with a gentle snow falling from fluffy silver clouds in the pale sky. Everything was quiet and still, almost serene. I walked aimlessly, just breathing deeply of the chilly air, and letting my thoughts wander along with my feet.

  Haven Hollow was a small town, so I wasn’t worried about getting lost. And, eventually, I’d have to go back to the house to baste the turkey, but for right now, I really needed the chance to think.

  I knew ending things with Marty was the right thing to do. Not just for me, but for him. I wanted both of us to be happy, not just content. That didn’t make the decision one bit easier, though. I really hated hurting people’s feelings and especially the people who were closest to me.

  Eventually, I wandered down the street that Fifi lived on. Just as I was rounding the corner, Fifi’s front door opened and she and Roy stepped out.

  Then Fifi caught sight of me. “Merry Christmas, Poppy!”

  I waved back, grinning. “Merry Christmas to you both!”

  Roy slung a casual arm around Fifi’s waist and I remembered the visual of both of them standing outside the Half-Moon, happy as can be, with their new baby. The memory or the thought or whatever it was, made me smile.

  Fifi tensed at Roy’s arm snaking around her waist, like she thought I’d be mad at Roy for showing her affection in front of me. I’d gotten the impression that she’d been worried about dating Roy for a while after he and I broke up, thinking that in doing so, she’d hurt me. Fifi really was too sweet to be a demon. Yes, the breakup had stung for a bit, even if I knew it was the right thing to do, but I was glad to see them both so happy.

  “Do you want to stop in for coffee?” Roy asked.

  I kept my smile in place and my voice light, trying to show her that their PDA didn’t bother me at all. The truth was—it didn’t. “Thank you, but I should be heading home. I’ve got a turkey that needs tending. I just wanted to take a quick walk.”

  “All right, then,” Roy said with an easy smile. “Don’t be a stranger.”

  I waved to them and they disappeared back inside the house.

  Strangely, seeing Roy made me feel a little bit better about things. He hadn’t been happy about our breakup, either, but really, even if I hadn’t been given a heads up about Fifi being his soulmate, I was pretty sure we wouldn’t have worked out long term. For one thing, at eighty, Roy was young for a Sasquatch. I was over forty, and aging like any other human. By the time I was old and gray, Roy would look like he was my grandson. Plus, Sasquatch tended to have big families, and I knew Roy wanted kids, but Finn was plenty for me.

  Roy and I—we just hadn’t been meant to be. And the situation between us hadn’t been great right after the breakup, but Roy and I had managed to get our friendship back pretty quickly, and Roy had moved on to find the love of his life. And that fact gave me hope that Marty would do the same. That not only would he and I be okay, in the end, but that in freeing him, he’d be able to find the woman he was truly supposed to be with.

  And yes, seeing Roy and Fifi together maybe made me a tiny bit jealous. Just a little. Not that I was jealous about Fifi being with Roy, but I was a little envious over what they had together. Their relationship, and how well they meshed as a couple. That was what I wanted, and I could now admit it to myself.