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…

grunts as she latches on like a

mouth over hers in a real kiss. His embrace around

Rhett and Scarlet…

They had nothing.

watches them, his

fingers into his.

slowly. He’s holding something in his other hand, turning it over and over in his fingers. “Marry

him. “Sorry, what

offering the something. “Marry me.” In his outstretched hand is the ring from Mitch’s cracker. “I’ll get you a real one,

I swallow hard.

it.” He offers the ring to

silence has fallen. Every face is staring my

get enough

I… think about

He presses the ring into my palm, curling my fingers around

turn to him. “Kirstie, what would you like?” He holds up a bottle in either hand. “Brandy? Or

*****

swishes brandy in his glass. “So, what has Santa brought you, Charlotte?” He speaks cheerfully, but it sounds forced. “I don’t see any new jewellery. I don’t

with everything that happened, I don’t think…” But

to that fairly soon. Charlotte, if you would like to release your death-grip on Cara for five minutes, Michael and I

Her forehead crinkles.

us, Babe. Go put on some warm clothes. And boots

widen. “My

and gloves and a warm

“But Cara…”

says. She grins too,

“Aren’t you coming?”

would prefer that Elizabeth stay

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