I woke up before seven despite having gone to bed later than usual. I’d lost sleep because my mind replayed every nuance and inflection from what had proven to be a very long yesterday.

But it was my interaction with Arthur that dominated my thoughts.

Every few minutes I circled back to the moment when we accidentally held hands in the sleigh and then later our conversation in the library when I finally understood why Arthur had basically gone full bonkers upon realizing Christmas the town maaaybe wasn’t quite the idealized holiday experience he’d been counting on when he had convinced his beloved aunt to change their plans at the last moment.

From Leipzig to Oklahoma. Which was a big-ass change.

I was going to make up for it.

I was going to do everything in my power to create Christmas Christmas Magic for Arthur and Aunt Esha, whom I also succeeded in convincing myself was not flirting with my father and had only clutched his hand on the sleigh ride as a way of anchoring herself amid the chaos.

It made sense. And it made me feel better.

One of the first things I did when I opened my eyes was close them again and craft a mental vision board of how today was going to play out.

The most important thing was to keep it simple. I had a limited number of decent Christmas-related options to present to them that held the opportunity for a positive experience, including my grandmother’s Christmas Eve party. I needed to space those suckers out.

Today would be two: baking Christmas cookies and then later going to the Christmas Parade. Super basic, but hard to mess up. I hoped.

And maybe later I could ask Ayisha if she knew about any non-grandmotherly parties taking place so I could fulfill Arthur’s request to go to one while he was here. Not that my growing crush on him changed my reluctance to introduce him to my peers. He was still Arthur and, feelings or no feelings, that had the potential to be problematic. He’d probably try to wear an ascot.

After I showered, I spent longer than normal getting ready. My hair had chosen today to lean into the static electricity that came with winter and it was all I could do not to look like a Nikola Tesla experiment.

Once I got it under control, and did extra primping, I slipped into my favorite jeans and dark red sweater, since I wasn’t working and it complemented my fair complexion.

Then I headed down to the kitchen, where I immediately got in the way of Mrs. Buzzard.