Perhaps a little late in life, Dena realized she didn’t have it in her to play it cool. She was a bundle of nerves, and she couldn’t seem to fake casual interest or lack of worry. She’d felt sick to her stomach since waking up that morning. By quarter to eight in the evening, she was a mess.

“Maybe you should pace,” Reggie offered helpfully as she stirred the brown sugar, corn syrup and butter that would become the coating for the homemade caramel corn they would be sharing during the live holiday special that was about to start. “Burn off some energy.”

“I’m nervous,” she admitted.

“The man’s been texting you multiple times a day. He misses you.”

“I hope so.”

In her head she knew Reggie was right. Micah had been staying in touch regularly. But her heart was more concerned about his absence. He was down in LA, where life was different. His old life was there—what if he decided he liked that better than the slow, easy pace of things in Wishing Tree? What if he met a cute, not-pregnant woman?

As if that wasn’t enough, she was also wondering about the song. He’d said she’d inspired him, but she didn’t know what that meant. Would it be meaningful? Or was it a silly holiday song about talking rabbits and she was reading way too much into his comments?

Why hadn’t they talked about their feelings before he left? What if he never came back? What if she’d snored and he was disgusted and never wanted to see her again?

Their mom walked into the kitchen. “All right, girls. It’s time.”

They brought the caramel popcorn into the family room. A commercial ended, and then they were staring at a beautiful stage decorated for the holidays. The announcer spoke.

“Live from Los Angeles, California, a celebration of the season with our guests.” He started listing the artists, giving a special shout-out to Micah Ruiz. Dena’s stomach flipped. The show was two hours and Micah was toward the end. She didn’t know how she was going to hold it together that long.

Finally, after dozens of performances, the camera panned across a large orchestra before stopping on Micah, seated on a stool. The audience went still, waiting.

The first notes of the beautiful melody had her catching her breath. Then he began to sing.

I thought I’d be alone this Christmas.

Again.

Wouldn’t have a home this Christmas.

Again.

And I was fine.

I was okay.

I’d loved and lost—

That’s just life’s way.

But then the snow fell.

The snow fell.

The snow fell.

The past was gone,

Only memories remained.

Dena stared at him, not sure what to think, what to feel. Was the song about her? About their first kiss?

There you were, with snowflakes sparkling in your hair.