The drive was pretty uneventful. I sang along to the Christmas carols on the radio even though I couldn’t say my heart was really in it. All the while, I tried to keep my thoughts from wandering back to that text conversation with Marty and how completely lackluster it had been.

  Instead, I focused on the fact that I was going to see Finn. Five years wasn’t a big deal between forty-five and fifty, but it was an enormous difference between thirteen and eighteen. Finn was an adult now, all grown up and away at school. And that thought hollowed out the inside of my stomach even more than it already was.

  Even so, I couldn’t wait to get a look at him, to see the type of man my son would grow up to become. The thought was a little bittersweet. It already felt like Finn was growing up way, way too fast—like just yesterday I was holding his little chubby toddler hand to cross the street.

  I wondered if he’d kept up with his magic studies. Thirteen-year-old Finn was completely determined to learn as much about becoming a Magician as possible. He was already an adept healer, and he’d learned several impressive magic tricks, including dream walking, which apparently was a big deal. I hadn’t been thrilled that he was using his dreams to effectively sneak out and learn magic behind my back, especially when I didn’t know what the risks were. Now I wanted to be able to console myself that all that worrying was for nothing.

  Hopefully.

  My rings suddenly felt cold on my finger. I adjusted the heater vent and did my best to ignore the pins and needles that seemed to be emanating from the gold band and down my ring finger, into my hand, and now up my arm.

  Hmm, that was strange.

  I forced my thoughts back to Finn as I wondered if this five years in the future version of him would have lost interest in becoming a Magician. Magic was fascinating to a child, the idea of having powers and fighting back the darkness. But teenagers, their priorities shifted. Maybe Finn had put away his tricks when he’d gone off to college.

  Why did I feel hopeful about that?

  I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable but not sure why. So, I turned up the radio and sang along to the catchy lyrics of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’.

  Until that weird icy feeling started up in my ring finger again and sighing with defeat, I removed both rings and placed them in the center consul of the Jeep. Strangely, as soon as I took the rings off, that icy feeling stopped.

  ***

  Portland was a big city, the largest in the state, and while it didn’t have the same small-town charm that Haven Hollow played up, it was still beautiful under a blanket of snow. The bridge I’d driven over to get into the city had been all strung up with lights, and while it was pretty during the day, it must have looked absolutely magical at night. The river cut a gleaming blue ribbon through the city, sparkling under the soft winter sun.

  Now no longer in Haven Hollow, I felt like I could finally take a full breath, no longer feeling like the buildings were folding in around me.

  Yes, it was a good idea to leave early and spend some time in Portland. I hadn’t been here very many times, so I still felt like a tourist as I peeked at this and got awed by that. There was just so much to take in, so many people zooming here and there as they did their last-minute Christmas shopping. I decided to park the Jeep near the bus station and then figured I had some time to go take a little walk through the downtown area.

  After parking, I walked past a grocery store and almost got run over in the lot by a little old lady with a cart full of what looked like pumpkin pies. She gave me an embarrassed laugh and I responded with the same as a bakery display caught my eye. Turning to look through the flocked window at the lovely boxes of cakes and cookies, my stomach growled. The fruit cake looked like something made of stained glass, shimmering under the lights. Ginger snaps were dusted in sugar, and I could almost feel the crispness of them under my teeth. But what snagged my attention was a gorgeous tray of candy cane shortbread cookies. They just looked so buttery and delicious.

  Marty had one heck of a sweet tooth, so I knew he’d appreciate some cookies and more specifically, those cookies. The little red and green candy cane bits sticking out of the shortbread reminded me of the candy cane Noelle had left on the counter at my store. I took the thought of Noelle as a sign and slipped through the foggy bakery door.

  As soon as I stepped inside, the smell of warm baking bread flooded my nose, and I tipped my head back to inhale greedily. I looked at a few more things before I solidified my decision to get the shortbread and headed to the checkout line. As I waited in line, I looked over the glass display counter, seeing if there was anything else there that Finn and Marty might like. Maybe some freshly baked croissants for breakfast, or some challah to make the perfect French Toast. It was warm and cozy inside, the welcoming smell of good things baking wrapping around my shoulders like a hug.

  “Poppy?” A familiar man’s voice spoke up behind me. “Is that you?”

  I jolted, surprised out of my browsing. I really hadn’t expected to bump into anyone I knew in Portland which wasn’t exactly close to Haven Hollow.

  I turned on my heel and came face to face with… Andre.

  I just stood there and stared, too surprised to react at first.

  Andre looked exactly the same as I remembered him.

  There might have been a few more lines on his brow, and a bit of silver in his dark hair, but he still looked… well, he still looked just as handsome as he always had. He was still just as tall, and trim under his dark wool pea coat. And he still seemed to favor the same dark colors that contrasted so perfectly with his light skin and blue eyes. There was a scarf wrapped around his neck, done in a pulled-through loop the British seemed to favor. His broad shoulders were dusted with the snow from outside, and though he was smiling and obviously pleased to see me, there was something about the way his brows had pinched together that made me think he seemed a little sad, too.

  But that was silly. Why should Andre be sad to see me? I shook the ridiculous notion off and, instead, tried to remember my manners. But in order to remember my manners, I first needed to remember how to form words—a lesson that didn’t seem to be coming well.

  “Oh, my, um…” I stammered before letting out a strange little laugh as my cheeks colored with heat. “Andre…”

  And even though I was hoping it wouldn’t be, it was still there—that intense feeling of familiarity. That same magnetic pull. As if every part of me just wanted to take that step forward, throw my arms around him and never let go.

  But that was just Poppy from five years before talking—I was more than sure that five years into the future, I wouldn’t still feel this way. Yet, it was five years into the future…

  Anyway… I was still just standing there, staring up at this incredibly handsome man who was still… staring down at me. It seemed neither one of us could find our tongues.

  “Yes, it’s… me,” he said softly.

  “I… ha! I’m surprised to see you,” I managed, sounding like a complete and total idiot. It was embarrassing enough to bring another flush to my face, but I couldn’t keep myself from smiling widely at Andre. In spite of the strange things he made me feel, I was very happy to see him.

  “Not as surprised as I am to see you, I can assure you,” he answered in that posh accent of his that had haunted me ever since I’d first met him.

  “What… what are you doing here?”

  He motioned to the freshly made loaf of bread in his arms. “Toast for Boxing Day,” he answered on a wide grin. “You?”

  I motioned to the shortbread cookies nestled in my hand. “Holiday cookies.”

  “You came all the way to Portland to pick up cookies?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Oh, no,” I answered, flushing all the way from my toes to the crown of my head. “I, uh… ” I beamed at him as I wrestled with my heart to stop beating so damned hard. “How, um, how… are you?”

  “I’m very well, thank you,” he said and then that smile was in full effect and I felt suddenly weak in my knees. “So if you aren’t in Portland for the shortbread cookies?”

  “Oh,” I started, feeling my eyebrows reaching for the ceiling. “I, um, I’m here to get Finn, actually. He’s away at college and he’s coming back to Haven Hollow for Christmas.”

  “You’re picking him up from the bus station?”

  I nodded. “Yes, but he’s not due to arrive for a couple of hours.”

  “How fortuitous,” Andre answered with a quick nod.

  “Fortuitous?” I repeated, like I’d never heard the word before.

  He nodded again. “Would you like to grab a table—to catch up for a bit?”

  That had to mean we hadn’t seen each other in a while, then? As far as I knew, we hadn’t seen one another for the last five years, but it wasn’t like I could just come right out and ask him as much. My spirits dimmed for some reason, but I made sure to keep the expression off my face as I agreed.

  We grabbed a coffee (which Andre insisted on paying for), and I tucked my package of shortbread onto the window ledge next to our table as we sat down, my heart still riding into my throat. God, there was just something about this man—there always had been and I imagined there always would be.

  I shrugged out of my coat, trying to keep my elbows tucked in so as not to bump anyone walking past.

  “Poppy Morton,” Andre said as soon as we were both seated across from one another. His grin was broad and his eyes shone with obvious happiness. “You look very well.”

  “Thank you,” I managed. “As do you.”

  “I’m dying to know: how have you been?”

  In my time, Andre was planning to relocate to Haven Hollow after spending most of his life as a traveling performer, going from place to place to spread magic and help people. Portland wasn’t terribly far from the Hollow, but it was still strange to bump into him here. Of course, there had been that conversation we’d had when Andre had said he had to return to Portland on business, so maybe he’d just never left? Or he’d left Portland and returned? Either way, it seemed he’d left Haven Hollow for good. And that was a thought that saddened me.

  “I’ve… I’ve been well,” I started, struggling with whether or not I should tell him the truth—that I wasn’t sure if I was just dreaming this whole thing or if Christmas magic had really managed to send me forward into the future. But that was such a huge topic, and I was suddenly too exhausted to even think about bringing it up. Instead, I just wanted to focus on my handsome… friend and find out what had kept him occupied all these years.

  No matter what was going on in my head, it really was wonderful to see him.

  Andre set his mug back on the little table and rested his forearms on the edge. He still wore a long-sleeved turtleneck sweater, to hide the black tattooed numbers that appeared on his skin with each new trick he learned. And from what I’d been able to tell, Andre had a lot of them. That had sure freaked me out, when black lines started etching themselves onto Finn’s skin like tattoos from the inside out.

  “And you?” I asked, hoping my smile wasn’t shaking like the rest of me. I was nervous, though I couldn’t quite say why. “What are you doing in Portland?”

  “Oh, I live here,” he answered with a quick shrug.

  “You live here?” I repeated, clearly surprised. “You, the traveling Magician—emphasis on the word ‘traveling’?”

  He chuckled at that and then glanced down into his cup of steaming coffee. “Yes, I guess you could say I finally put down roots.”

  I couldn’t say why that information bothered me but it did. “Oh.”

  He looked up at me and there was something in his eyes—it was the same thing that had always been in his eyes and I still struggled to identify it. “I opened up a magic shop here, a few years back.”

  “You did?”

  He nodded. “I did and I’m pleased to say it’s doing quite well.”

  My heart sank, but I kept my smile in place, even as I asked myself why Andre putting down roots in Portland bothered me so much. I just couldn’t understand why here and not Haven Hollow? What had made him leave the Hollow for Portland? It seemed kind of an odd choice him settling here, especially when Haven Hollow was an ideal place for a magic store. Not only that, but we didn’t have a magic shop.

  He took another sip of coffee, his eyes searching my face. “What about you? Where are you living now?”

  “Oh, I’m still in Haven Hollow,” I answered quickly.

  “Still running the potion shop?”

  I nodded. “The shop is doing really well.” At least, I assumed it was. It had looked fairly prosperous even if I was still worried about the fact that I’d stopped being able to brew some of my famous recipes.

  “And you said Finn is coming home from university for Christmas?”

  I nodded. “I’m just in town to pick him up.”

  That got a more genuine smile out of Andre, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. “That’s wonderful. He comes to visit me sometimes.”

  “He does?” I asked, the shock and surprise dripping into my tone.

  “Yes,” Andre nodded and his smile seemed sad again. “Mostly when dream walking. We haven’t really spoken lately, though—I suppose he’s just busy with his studies. I’m glad to know he’s doing well—he’s such a talented and exceptional young man.”

  That made me falter, and I grabbed my coffee to buy myself time to respond.

  Andre hadn’t heard from Finn? What did that mean? Had Finn given up on being a Magician? Hmm, it didn’t seem so—not if Finn was visiting Andre in his dreams. Once upon a time, Andre had volunteered to be Finn’s teacher, and he’d been planning to move to Haven Hollow to do it. Well, before he’d been called back to Portland. So, what could have changed that would make them only speak occasionally now? Surely Finn couldn’t have mastered every trick in the Magician’s Grimoire (known as ‘Ouire’) in just a couple of years?

  My son might be something of a magical prodigy, but no one was that good. At least, I didn’t think they were.

  How on earth was I going to ask Andre about it though? Or Finn, for that matter?

  Finally, after a few more minutes of painfully light small talk, I just bit the bullet and decided to start in on the heavier subjects.

  “So,” I started, as casually as I could. “What made you decide to move to Portland? You seemed so ready to settle in Haven Hollow.”

  Andre, who had just been about to take a sip of his coffee, set his mug down instead. There was a pause so long and so awkward that I desperately wished I’d just minded my own business. Andre’s gaze fell to the white tablecloth, and he seemed almost anxious as he traced the floral embroidery with his index finger.

  Finally, he looked up at me and gave me an apologetic smile. “Well.” He cleared his throat, an expression passing over his face that I would have almost called ‘rueful’. “I suppose it was… shortly after you’d gotten engaged to Marty.”

  “Oh?” I started, swallowing hard as my heart started to pound in earnest again.

  He nodded. “I just couldn’t seem to bear to be in the Hollow, after that.”

  I stared at him in surprise, not sure what to say. Something inside my chest gave a painful twist as I wondered if Andre’s words meant what I thought they’d meant. I didn’t know what kind of expression I was making, but it must have been something, because Andre made a little aborted reach for my hand.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to upset you.”

  “No,” I answered immediately and glanced down as I watched myself reach for him. I wrapped my fingers around his hand and was surprised by the warmth of him. “You haven’t upset me.”

  He nodded and then breathed in deeply as he shook his head. “It was my own fault, really.”

  I looked up at him, painfully aware of how he turned his hand around and closed his fingers around mine. “What was your fault?”

  “Never having the courage to speak up. Never having the courage to tell you how I felt,” he answered and there was a fire in his eyes and his words. “It’s one of those things I most regret, Poppy.”

  I couldn’t have spoken even if I’d known what to say. My throat felt too tight, like all my emotions had gotten tangled up in a messy knot.

  Andre smiled, but it was sad, almost wistful.

  “I… I don’t know what to say,” I managed finally, shaking my head as I breathed in deeply and told myself not to cry, even as I could feel the tears threatening. “I always thought… the feelings I had… that I was the only one feeling them.”

  Andre immediately shook his head then, and an almost angry smile overtook his mouth. “No, you weren’t the only one.” He looked at me and sighed. “Certainly not.” Then he took a deep breath. “I knew… I always knew but the truth… well, I suppose it frightened me.”

  “You knew… what?”

  “Who you were,” he answered on a laugh.

  “Who I was?” I was confused.

  He nodded and then took another deep breath, as if he were refueling his courage. “From the moment I first walked up to you, when you were about to drop all your potions and I froze them in the air, only to drop them for you,” he started on a laugh and I joined in as I remembered the moment. “From the exact second I laid eyes on you, Poppy, I felt… this… connection. I can’t rightly explain it, but it feels as if I’ve known you forever.”

  “I always felt that too.”

  “Even beyond this life,” he continued, sighing again. “As if it was my soul that recognized yours.” Then he shook his head and chuckled. “I know this sounds utterly bonkers.”

  “No,” I insisted as I squeezed his hand even harder than he was squeezing mine. “It doesn’t. Because I know exactly what you’re talking about.”