Boys, driving, the dangers of drug and alcohol abuse—so many landmines lay ahead. Ugh. How had she gotten here? How had she wound up with a teenage daughter? Oh, yeah. She’d turned forty.

On which one should she blame the gray hair she’d found hiding among the blonde highlights the other day, the kid or the big 4-0?

“Don’t pull it,” her mom had advised. “You pull one and two more come to its funeral.” Melody Jones, the expert on gray hair. She’d been dyeing her hair since she was thirty.

The advice came too late. Jenna had pulled the thing. She’d heard that gray hair and wisdom went together, but she wasn’t ready to be that wise yet.

“What are you and Tristan scheming now?” she asked as she kissed the top of Sabrina’s head.

“Can I go to the Christmas ball with him?”

“Yes, when you’re a senior. If he isn’t engaged to some college brainiac, he can come back from M.I.T. and take you.”

“That’s so not funny,” Sabrina said, her sunny smile dipping behind a cloud of teen irritation.

“No frowny face,” Jenna teased. “Santa’s watching.” This had always been Jenna’s favorite behavioral modification tactic, and she’d used it plenty over the years, starting in November.

“Lame, Mom,” said Sabrina, who’d quit believing in Santa when she was eight. “Anyway, it’s only October. You’re way too early.”

“I like to get an early start.” Obviously, so did Tristan.

“Mom.”

Every mother knew that tone of voice, half disgust and half pleading. “Maybe. Let me think about it.”

Sabrina beamed at her. “That would be the best Christmas present ever.”

“We’ll have a great Christmas, no matter what,” Jenna said, determined not to make any promises until she’d had more time to consider. She gave her daughter another kiss, then headed for her own room.

Christmas. It was her favorite holiday. The joy, the lights, the parties, the hopeful message of peace on earth, goodwill toward men. She loved the candlelight church services, the cookies, the decorations and holiday songs, the gathering of family. Granted, her own little family had been fractured, but she still had her daughter and her mom and sister, and Aunt Edie, and she was looking forward to enjoying their first Christmas together in their new home at the beach. The beach was always special, but even more so during the holidays.

Christmas at the beach. Hmm. Now, there was a thought. Where could she go with it?

Someplace good, she realized as she crawled into bed. A holiday festival was bound to lure people to town. Who didn’t like fairs and festivals, especially holiday ones? She could see it now—the storefronts all lit up with multi-colored lights, trees in the restaurants decorated with glittery shells and little lighthouses and mermaids, amusement rides and cotton candy and hot chocolate down at the pier, a live nativity scene in front of one of the churches. And a Christmas parade with Santa bringing up the rear for a grand finale.