“No, you know what,” Noelle said, hitting the table for emphasis, “we will be launching your store. This isn’t just the way for us to save Carrigan’s short-term, but to kick off Carrigan’s All Year in a big way, for the future.”

“YES!” Miriam picked up Noelle’s thread, excited at the picture taking shape in her head. “We’ll have every Bloomer in the country on a livestream. We lean hard into the next chapter of Blum Again. Studio space, storefront, and vacation packages where art lovers can come visit the artist’s residence and see where I get my inspiration. Day trips to visit Advent and Carrigan’s, including a shopping tour. Pop-up events at the diner and the bar.”

“We’re going to be announcing a whirlwind of new, and we’ll kick it off with the biggest sale of Miriam Blum art in history. This isn’t panic. This is opportunity,” Hannah finished and fist-bumped Miriam.

Miriam’s eyes welled up, her last emotional dam cracking at Noelle putting all their hopes for the future of Carrigan’s in her art. She wanted to believe this meant that Noelle understood that Miriam had just temporarily panicked, but when she tried again to catch Noelle’s eye, to let her see how much it meant to her, Noelle still wouldn’t look up.

“This idea is amazing,” Elijah said, “and absolutely has a chance of being wildly successful. But…” He paused, spreading his hands.

“But we can’t do this ourselves,” Hannah said, nodding. She looked at Mr. and Mrs. Matthews. “Do you think Esther and Joshua will help save Christmasland? Again?”

“It’s their home, too.” Mr. Matthews nodded. “They’ll be here.”

Miriam looked between Hannah and the Matthewses. “If it’s really all hands on deck and every Matthews, do we call Levi back?”

Hannah blanched, then nodded. “I don’t know where he is or whether he can get here in time, but if you can find him, you can ask him.”

“You can’t.” Mr. Matthews shook his head, his eyes sad. “I do know where he is, and it’s on an Australian cooking competition. He’s unreachable. His phone was taken away until he gets eliminated.”

“Which he won’t,” Noelle grumbled, “because he sold his soul to a crossroads demon for his culinary talent.”

“We are going to talk about the utterly wild information you just gave me at a later date,” Hannah told Mr. Matthews, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Right now we have less than a week to plan the biggest party of our lives.”

“Okay,” Cole said, practically bouncing in his chair. “Let’s do this. What’s next?”

“There’s a bunch of New Year’s decorations somewhere,” Hannah said. “Mr. Matthews, can you help me find them?”

“I can do that.” He popped up from his seat.