James returns with a tray, setting it on the table. “Who’s for coffee?”

Richard shudders. “Not for me James.”

“You can share mine,” offers Mitch, reaching for her teapot.

Richard scowls at the peppermint-scented steam.

James pours into a cup and saucer then offers it up. “Ryan?”

“Thank you, yes.” Ryan sips at the coffee then freezes, staring at the tablecloth. “Fuck me. Is this what he drinks?”

“’fraid so.”

He glares. “You could have warned me. It’s like fucking refrigerator coolant.”

Across the table, Mitch looks up to the mistletoe above the hearth. “Larry?”

“Yes?” He looks in the right general direction, but nothing registers in his expression.

Clueless…

She casts eyes upward again, this time definitely eye-pointing.

He shuffles in his seat. “Mitch, this isn't really...”

Mitch stands, placing herself squarely under the mistletoe, pats her lips with a forefinger. “I'm going to insist.”

Larry’s mouth works and a flush rises up his neck…

Way outside his comfort zone…

… nonetheless, he stands, loops an arm around the lovely woman and kisses her lightly on the lips…

then grunts as she latches on like a limpet

over hers

and

They had nothing.

watches them, his face

fingers into his. “It’s something special

other hand, turning it over

misheard him. “Sorry, what

face alight, offering the something. “Marry me.” In his outstretched hand is the ring from Mitch’s cracker. “I’ll

I swallow hard.

He offers the ring to my left

around me, silence has fallen. Every face is

get enough

I… think

ring into my palm, curling my fingers around it.

him. “Kirstie, what would you like?” He

*****

you, Charlotte?” He speaks cheerfully, but it sounds forced. “I don’t see any new

with everything that happened, I don’t think…” But she’s cut short by Michael’s

come to that fairly soon. Charlotte, if you would like to release your

Her forehead crinkles.

head. “It’s from all of us, Babe. Go put on some warm clothes. And boots and socks.

widen. “My

and gloves and a

“But Cara…”

offers out her arms. “I’ll take her,” she says. She grins too, impishly. “It will be good

“Aren’t you coming?”

Beth’s thigh. “I would prefer that Elizabeth

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