Kissing Under the Mistletoe

chapter 15





“What is this?” Regan asked, cautiously eyeing him and the papers.

Gabe didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. The pain in his gut made it impossible to breathe, let alone speak.

The last thing he wanted to do was stand there with his family as witnesses and hurt the one person in the room who wasn’t expecting anything from him. But he was out of options. And Regan was going to need one hell of a story to get herself out of this one.

Still, seeing her body tremble, her eyes dart toward the dressing room door, no doubt worried that Holly would come out, tore at him.

“She’s with ChiChi.”

Her face lost all color. Shit. Gabe hadn’t meant to make it sound like this was some big DeLuca plot, where they were going to gang up on her when she was alone and scare her into leaving town. Then again, that’s what this was. But ChiChi wasn’t in on it.

“I see.” Her voice cracked.

Nobody else could tell how close Regan was to tears, or how scared she was, but Gabe could. It was the way she refused to blink those big eyes, which had turned a cloudy blue, and how her hands had all but disappeared under the cuffs of her sweater. Regan was doing what she’d done her whole life, holding it together.

A part of him, the part that felt alive for the first time since his parents died, wanted to forget the whole thing and go back to two hours ago, when all he could think about was her naked in his bed, sleeping in his arms. The other part of him that was the head of his family, the protector of his siblings, the f*cking hero of the day, pushed the bank statement into her hand.

Regan looked down and froze. “I don’t understand. How did you get this?”

Not: What is this?

Or even: I’m sorry.

But: How did you get this?

Gabe took a step back, away from Regan, away from his family, away from the pain rushing at him.

“Does it matter?” Frustration tightened his fists, so he rubbed at the back of his neck to keep from punching the told-you-so smirk off Marc’s face. When that didn’t work, he turned his back to his family and faced the woman who had just ripped out his chest. “I believed you. Believed that you weren’t responsible for any of this. I defended you to my family. And you lied.”

“It’s not what you think.” Her voice barely filled the space.

“Really? Because it looks like you opened an account in Holly’s name, transferred all of my sister’s money there, only to reroute it somewhere else. Jesus, Regan, you put it in Holly’s name. What kind of mother does that?”

“Don’t you ever discount me as a mother. Everything I have ever done has been for Holly. Everything.” She looked at the papers and back to him. “You want to know what this is?” She slapped the papers against his chest. And suddenly he didn’t want to know.

Her eyes told him everything. He’d messed up. Big time.

His brothers had come at him, proof of betrayal in hand, emotions on high. He’d listened and then reacted. Not because he thought she was guilty—deep down he knew Regan would never take money she didn’t earn—but because she scared the shit out of him. He didn’t know what to do with a woman who didn’t need him, didn’t want him fixing her life.

So he did what any moron would do: he created a problem. Only this time he wasn’t so sure he could fix his way out of it.

“This is what happens when a nineteen-year-old is pregnant and alone. I had no way to take care of Holly. No one would hire me. Then Richard showed up saying he wanted to do the right thing. So when he opened an account in Holly’s name to help pay for diapers and formula, I didn’t ask questions.”

“It was a Swiss account,” Marc accused. “Who the hell opens a Swiss account?”

“It had less than a thousand dollars in it. And he’s Italian,” she defended. “I had no idea what he was doing until I got a call from the bank asking why I had closed out the account. I assumed Abby had finally kicked him out and he’d taken back the money. But when I got the statement showing that twelve million dollars had been deposited and withdrawn only minutes apart, I knew that Richard had played me.”

“Then why didn’t you tell anyone?” Abby accused.

“When the police showed up asking questions about him, I told them everything. At first they saw exactly what Richard had hoped for: the daughter of an illegal immigrant and a teen mother with no job. Thankfully they were smart enough to actually check with Interpol and verify that I hadn’t made the transaction.” She shot a look at Gabe.

“They cut us out of the investigation. I only knew that the money was gone and Abby was a suspect. I had no idea who they had talked to or who they cleared,” Gabe said.

“Yeah, well, neither did I. I didn’t know whose money it was until recently.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the other day...” In my bed, when I was holding you and spilling my guts about how I’d let down my family.

“You mean confide in the guy who ruined six years of my life for accidently sleeping with his brother-in-law?” She laughed mercilessly.

“Finding this account has changed the entire direction of our investigation,” Gabe said, needing her to understand just what this meant to his family. “It actually led us to another account Richard had set up for Holly in the Cayman Islands. Now we have a lead, a real chance at catching the bastard.”

“You people really can’t see past your family, can you?” Regan choked out. “All I want is to keep my daughter safe.”

He took a step forward, needing to touch her, make this right. “Regan, I wouldn’t have—”

This time she stopped him. “Don’t go there, Gabe. You already did and you’d do it again. You would do anything to protect your family.” Her eyes went wide and her lips parted on a breath. “Oh, my God.”

She took a step back.

Then another.

“You were asking Holly about Richard.” Her hand covered her mouth and his chest hollowed out as he saw her put everything together. “You came to my house to ask me about Richard, not to help me move. From day one you’ve been asking about Richard. Even when we were...”

She glanced around, as if suddenly remembering that his entire family and a few PTA parents were in the hall, listening to everything. Her face flushed with humiliation.

She dropped her head, and Gabe for the first time saw a glimmer of that little girl who had been teased and discarded and forced to stand on her own—apart from everyone else. Except that when she looked up, he realized that she no longer had a floor to stand on, he’d ripped it out from under her.

“I’m such an idiot,” she said heartbreakingly soft. “You slept with me because...” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I let you in my house, around Holly, trusted you with my heart, and the whole time...”

Now it was his turn to explain. Only this time he was guilty of everything she had accused him of.

“It started out that way.” He took a step closer, and she backed farther away. “But then I got to know you, and in the end—”

“In the end”—her big blue eyes darkened with sorrow—“you were a jerk just like everyone else. And you want to know the worst part?”

No, he didn’t want to know anything else.

“I really thought this year”—her breath caught—“that this year was going to be a perfect Christmas.”

“Regan, wait.” He grabbed her arm when she turned to leave. “I’m sorry. I am so f*cking sorry.”

She looked at him for a long time, the tears finally spilling over her pretty lashes. She opened her mouth and took a thorough inventory of his family. Holly came out of the dressing room then, dragging an apologetic ChiChi with her.

Regan looked back at Gabe and shook her head, sad and slow. “It’s not enough this time.”

With an angry swipe at her cheeks, she pulled herself together for Holly, her strength amazing to witness. Then she met her daughter halfway, hugging her tightly and congratulating her on her part in the musical before clasping her hand and heading toward the exit.

At the doorway Holly paused and turned, looking at him with confusion. Forcing himself to stand there and let them walk around the corner and out of sight was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

ChiChi rushed over, demanding to know what was going on. Nate and Trey were trying to explain the events. Marc was apologizing for not digging deeper to get the whole story. And Abby was tugging on his sleeve, asking him if he was okay. None of it mattered.

All he heard was the slamming of the metal theater doors in the distance. Gabe couldn’t remember a time in his life when he hadn’t acted in the best interest of his family. Even when it was the hard choice, he always chose family. So then why did his chest feel like it had been gutted?

Oh, shit. He looked from his family and then to the empty hallway.

Oh, shit. His breath came in fast, panicked bursts. The reality of what he had just done crashed in on him. Sure, part of his family was standing next to him, loud and bickering and trying to figure out what had just happened. But the other part, the part of his family that he didn’t even know he possessed, had just walked out the door.

“I love her.” When no one stopped yelling, he looked his family square in the eye. “I. Love. Her.”

The hall fell uncomfortably silent. All five sets of eyes that were the exact image of his father’s looked back at him. The only set that was smiling was ChiChi’s.

“I love her,” he said again, this time just to hear how it sounded. It sounded right.

“There are a lot of emotions going on right now. Let’s take a step back and think this through,” practical, level-headed Nate said, making Gabe want to shove him through the wall.

“Listen.” Gabe waited for silence. He was only going to say this once. “I love Regan and Holly with everything that I am, and I will do whatever I have to do to win her back.” He turned to Abby and took her hands in his. “I love you and I am sorry I allowed that bastard in our lives. But I can’t keep punishing myself or Regan. So if it will be too hard on you to see us together, tell me now.”

Abby blinked, sending tears down her cheeks. “You’d still ask her to leave?”

“No, I’d go with her. I’m not willing to give up Regan, but I also don’t want Holly growing up in a place where Regan is an outcast. Understand?” Abby nodded, her mouth quivering. “So if you can’t let this go, tell me now and I’ll leave.”

“Who the hell would run the business?” Marc asked, his kid brother not looking so cocky anymore.

He looked at his family. “I guess one of you would have to figure it out. But wherever my girls go, I’m going. So if you want me around, then we’d better figure out a way to make Regan stay.”





“Mommy, wake up.”

Regan felt little hands poke her shoulder. Careful not to move for fear that her head would explode, she opened her eyes and immediately slammed them shut. They were puffy and irritated, and the blinking lights overhead felt like lasers piercing her retinas.

Regan opened her eyes again, pushed through the pain and gasped. Her butt was asleep, her right hand was attached to her cheek with what she hoped was sap and not superglue, and something hard and pokey was sticking her in the kidney.

On second glance, she realized that she was lying under the Christmas tree next to an empty tub of Rocky Road, covered in popcorn garland, and spooning Randolph.

She had a piece of popcorn husk stuck between her teeth. Even sadder was that she hadn’t even had a sip of alcohol. Regan had accomplished all of this awesomeness by her sober lonesome.

She remembered putting Holly to bed, remembered stuffing the stockings, and remembered getting the presents out of the trunk.

She also remembered taking one look at Randolph, alone on Christmas Eve, hiding under the plastic tablecloths with little Santas, and completely lost it. Then, to really put the guilt on, he had flipped his switch and wished her a merry Christmas. Outside of Holly’s, it would likely be the only Christmas wish she would get this year. And how pathetic was that?

Almost as pathetic as carrying Randolph in, sharing a tub of ice cream with him and telling him all about her Christmas curse. Even using his flank to cry on.

“Holy cow, Santa brought you Randolph. You must have been a really good girl this year,” Holly said, scooting closer so she could pet Randolph’s head.

Regan thought back to all that she had lost last night and wanted to disagree, but she kept her mouth shut.

Then she stared at her daughter, sitting under an enormous Christmas tree, and her heart melted, moving somewhere closer to right. Holly’s face was flush with sleep and her hair was sticking up in the back. Dressed in red footie pajamas and clutching her kitty Pillow Pet—who she had named Gold Fish—Regan, for the first time in weeks, saw things clearly, and agreed.

She must have been a good girl, because she had Holly. And nobody else in the world could say that.

Scooping her daughter up, Regan settled Holly in her lap and held her close. She breathed in little girl scent and slowly exhaled while holding her tighter. “I love you, angel.”

“I love you too, Mommy, but you’re all sticky.”

Regan didn’t let go. And Holly, getting stickier by the second, didn’t move. Regan looked around their dinky little apartment and a warm sense of belonging passed through her. It didn’t matter where they lived or what kind of job she had, or that she’d have to look for new ones the next day. All that mattered was that, in her arms and together, she and Holly were enough. They always had been.

“Why don’t we do presents first and then breakfast?” she said, tugging one of Holly’s ringlets.

Holly shook her head and looked up at Regan with excited eyes. “We have to wait until my last present comes.”

“How do you know it isn’t already under the tree?” Regan had been keeping track of things that caught Holly’s attention. She couldn’t afford them all, but with her promotion had come a raise and Regan had been able to buy a few things she knew Holly wanted.

“Nope, it doesn’t fit under a tree,” Holly said, sending Regan’s heart plummeting to her toes.

Not wanting to shatter her kid’s Christmas wish but refusing to lie to her, Regan went for honest. “I did something that I’m not proud of.”

“Did you pay the Dirty Jar?” Holly asked, as cool as if this was a daily occurrence. For Regan, as of late, it was.

“I did. Remember that letter you gave me to mail to Santa?” Holly nodded. “Well, I opened it and read it without your permission, even though it wasn’t mine to open. And”—another deep breath—“I know you asked Santa for a forever home. And I know that one year we’ll get that home, just not this year.”

“I know,” Holly said with a duh tacked on to the tone. “At first I wanted a forever home where I could have a kitty of my own, then I realized a daddy was better.” If Regan’s heart had been in her toes, now it was lodged painfully in her throat. “So Lauren and I sent him a second letter and Santa brought me Gabe.” Holly’s smile fell flat and her lip quivered. “Why are you crying, Mommy?”

Regan touched her cheeks, surprised to find that she was. She never cried in front of Holly. Then again, ever since Richard, she’d avoided decisions that had the potential to break her baby’s heart.

“Honey, Gabe isn’t coming.”

Holly’s eyes went wide and bright. “Why?”

Because he’s a jerk. Because he lied. Because you got stuck with a mommy who is missing something that makes her lovable.

Regan swallowed. “Because he is spending it with his family.”

“But we’re his family.” The confusion in Holly’s voice burned through Regan’s chest.

She wrapped Holly tightly to her, hugging her fiercely and hoping to convey just how special she was, how loved she was, and most importantly, that just being herself was enough. “We are our own family, Holly. You, me, and Gold Fish.”

“And Randolph?” Holly whispered, too much understanding in her six-year-old little voice.

Regan pulled back. “No, we have to return Randolph.”

“Good, cuz the Dirty Jar’s already full.”





“They’re all staring at us,” Holly whispered, tightening her mittened grip on Regan’s left hand. Regan’s right hand was pulling a wagon.

The red wagon was heavier than she had expected, and even though a Christmas-morning storm sent frigid winds rushing though the main part of town, sweat beaded on her skin. Because the wagon, borrowed from Perkins’ toolshed, held one very wanted, fresh-from-his-bath and smiling-out-at-his-adoring-public Randolph.

The adoring public, however, was not smiling back. They were scowling. At Regan, not Randolph.

Regan tightened her grip on Holly, giving her hand three little squeezes. When Holly didn’t give her usual squeezes back, she stopped and looked down at her daughter, who looked back—terrified.

Dropping to her knee, Regan smoothed Holly’s silky hair. “You did nothing wrong. I made a mistake and I have to fix it, but I can bring you to Pricilla’s and pick you up after this is over.”

Holly took in the crowd, the not-so-welcoming glares, and shook her head. “Nope. You and me is family. A mistake is only wrong if you don’t right it.” With her me-too squeezes, Holly tugged her forward toward the town Christmas display.

Already packed with spectators wearing their mourning best, a gilded podium, and the mayor at the mic, it looked more like a funeral procession than a Christmas celebration. Reminding herself that there was nothing left to lose, Regan threw her shoulders back and kept on moving through the crowd, around St. Vincent’s upper-class glee club singing, “Randolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” past an overjoyed Isabel, only stopping after she had squeezed her way up to the podium.

“Then one foggy Christmas Eve, Santa came to say,” the glee club belted out.

The mayor took one look at the stolen goods in the wagon and stepped back. Regan walked up to the mic and tapped it. The muffled thump echoed throughout the street, instantly silencing the crowd and cutting off the glee club right as the altos sang an ominous, “Ho Ho Ho.”

“Um, hello, everyone,” Regan began, with her best the-funniest-thing-happened-on-the-way-over smile. No one smiled back. “Merry Christmas?”

Silence.

Holly looked around. Sensing that her mom was a total bust, she held up a finger and whispered something to Randolph, whose smile oddly appeared to grow bigger. Then Holly wheeled him in front of the podium and pushed his nose.

“Merry Christmas, one and all.”

When the greeting wasn’t returned, Holly ran up on stage and pulled Regan close. “Like a Band-Aid, Mommy.” And then she ran back to the front row and gave her a double thumbs-up.

Quick and painless. Right. “I know you all have a busy schedule this morning, so I’ll just come out and say it—”

“I stole Randolph.” A voice came from behind. The crowd parted, all three hundred heads turned in unison to stare back.

Frankie stood on the curb in front of Stan’s Soup and Service Station, covered in dirt and grape stains. Her hair was a disaster and she was holding Randolph. Well, not Randolph, since Regan had the stolen Randolph in her stolen wagon. But it was a close match.

The crowd looked back and forth between the two statues, trying to determine who had the real Randolph and who was the big fat liar.

She had no idea where her friend had bought the reindeer or why she was doing this, but Regan was touched. That Frankie was trying to take the fall made the lump in her throat that much tighter.

Sweet or not, though, she couldn’t allow it. Holly was in the crowd, and Martin women didn’t hide from their mistakes. No matter how bad it sucked to fess up. “Frankie, that is so incredibly wonderful of you, but—”

“We stole Randolph,” the three Mrs. Clauses chimed in while marching across the street, each one carrying a Randolph look-alike.

“Impossible,” Mrs. Lambert said, coming from the general direction of the Grapevine Prune and Clip, a Randolph in her clutches. “I’ve had him all along. See?” She pushed his nose.

“Merry Christmas, one and all.”

From the back row, Regan could see a bundle of auburn curls rise. Abigail DeLuca stood on her chair, and the entire audience gasped at what was most likely going to be the best throw-down in St. Helena Christmas history.

Regan stood frozen, her palms sweating and her heart thundering in her chest. Last night had been one of the hardest moments of her life, which was saying a lot because she’d weathered more than her share of heartache. But this was something she refused to weather, not in front of Holly.

She stepped down from the podium and took her daughter’s hand. Before she could speak, Holly gave three squeezes and said, “Mrs. Dee, are you also going to fib and say you had Randolph?”

Abby looked down at Holly and then to Regan. The woman didn’t say a word, but then she didn’t need to. Regret was in her very expression. “No, honey, but give me a little while to get used to this.” She looked back at Regan and shrugged. “By next year, who knows.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what I know.” Sheriff Bryant stood in the back row, reading from his department-issued notepad. “That at precisely three thirty-seven this morning an unidentified white male wearing dark clothing and a Stanford ball cap, approximately six foot one in height and weighing one hundred and ninety pounds, was caught on video surveillance depositing one Randolph the Reindeer on the south side of the sheriff’s station, next to the mail depository.”

He picked up the statue and pushed the button.

“Feliz navidad, todos y cada uno.”

Sheriff Bryant looked baffled. “Well, now someone mind explaining how that happened?”

“You have the wrong deer, Sheriff,” a low and sexy voice called from the back.

The crowd parted and there, standing at a good six one and wearing a Stanford cap, looking ever-so-handsome in his jeans and dark shirt, stood Gabe, with a Randolph in hand. It had a big bow on its head and a matching pink nose.

“No one here could have had Randolph because I did,” he said, making his way forward, his eyes never leaving Regan’s.

“That’s not even a real Randolph,” Isabel snapped. “His nose is the wrong color.”

“Oh, it’s real, all right.” Gabe set Randolph the Seventh at Regan’s feet and tangled his fingers with hers. “I met this sexy, smart woman and tried to woo her. Only instead of impressing her, I ended up making a fool out of myself and accidently ran ChiChi’s car into the town Christmas display. And in a panic, I took Randolph. Only she was too classy to turn me in.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I only hope she can forgive me for being such an ass.”

“Is that the truth?” Holly said, her hall monitor hand snapping to her hips.

Gabe dropped to his knees, getting eye to eye with Holly. “Yes, ma’am, and I’ve got three rolls of quarters to back Regan’s up.” Her little hand came out, and Gabe handed over the Dirty Jar money.

Their voices dropped to a hushed murmur as their heads leaned closer together. They were making some kind of deal, and by the look on Holly’s face when they pulled back, Regan’s daughter had somehow come out ahead on the negotiations.

“Question is...” Gabe looked over Holly’s head to Regan. “Do you think your mom will believe me?”

“What part do you want me to believe?”

Gabe rose and, resting his hands on Regan’s hips, nudged her closer. His voice dropped low when he spoke, and his hands dropped lower the closer she got. “The part where I said I was an ass and that you are the most beautiful and classy woman I have ever met. And the part where I tell you that I love you.”

“That’s a lot of parts,” she whispered, her heart swelling in her chest until she was afraid that she would run out of room. “But I think I like that last one the best.”

“Even if I admit that I put Randolph in your trunk?” Gabe whispered, wrapping those strong arms around her waist and giving her a slow, easy smile.

“You did? Why?”

They were both talking so hushed, Regan could see people sway closer, straining to listen. So Gabe dropped his voice even more. “I found him in the PTA room and thought Isabel was setting you up.” Regan had assumed the same thing. “I considered just returning it to the town display, but you had been so adamant—”

“You mean stubborn?”

“Determined to do it yourself that I wanted to give you the time you needed.”

“I had already given it back to your grandmother...in front of half the town.”

“I figured that out last night. Right around the time I realized that you would also come here this morning to make things right.”

“So you planned all of this?”

He nodded. “To say I’m sorry. Truly sorry for everything.”

She looked around at her friends holding reindeers, a public statement that they had her back, and couldn’t believe that Gabe had gone through all that trouble just to cover for her.

“You’re forgiven. For the Randolph part,” she clarified.

He pulled her even closer, their hips and thighs brushing. “Well, before you make up your mind on the rest of it, please let me show you the best part.”

“Oh, she’s seen his part,” Jordan yelled. The crowd nodded.

Gabe winked at Holly, then looked down at Regan. “Ready?”

No, Regan wasn’t ready. She was still stuck on the “I love you.”

Holly pushed the pink nose on the Randolph imposter. But instead of a robotic voice wishing one and all a Merry Christmas, it was Gabe’s voice that came out.

“Marry me, Regan.”

Regan looked down and there around girly Randolph’s neck was a diamond ring attached to a big red bow. It was old and aged with memories, and she recognized it immediately.

Holly handed the ring to Gabe. He held it for a silent moment, his face vulnerable and unsure. He must have misread her face, because his went slack. “If you don’t want this one because of Richard, I can get you another one. It’s just that it was my mom’s and—”

“The ring is perfect.” She slid her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest. No matter how much she loved him, how much she wanted to say yes, she couldn’t.

She felt Gabe tense, then he buried his face in her neck and whispered, “I sense a ‘but’ coming, Vixen.”

“I can’t.” Gabe froze at her confession. She loosened her hold, unwilling to let him see the emotion in her eyes, stared at his arms that were so strong she wanted to crawl right back into them. “I love you so much, but I just can’t. Your family—”

He cupped her cheeks and tilted her face up, and what she saw staring back made her breath catch. Gabe was looking down at her with so much intensity and love and heat that some of her doubts that stemmed from their past began to fade and give way to a few hopes for their future.

“You are my family,” he said fiercely. “You and Holly.”

Regan opened her mouth to point out that he also had a big bad Italian family who hated her, but before she could get a word out he leaned down and gently kissed her. “Last night you said it wasn’t enough,” he whispered against her lips. “You’re right. It wasn’t. Anything that doesn’t include dinner with you and Holly and waking up with you in my arms, every day, will never be enough. I love you, Regan. I don’t care where we live or who shows up to Christmas dinner, as long as I have you. You two are home to me, you’re my family. Please say you’ll let me be yours.”

Regan had received a Christmas miracle six years ago and promised herself that she would never forget what it felt like. So when the warmth spread through her body, surrounding her heart and filling her with joy, she closed her eyes and for the second time since she was seven she thanked Santa.

“Was that a yes?” ChiChi shouted from the back.

“I can’t hear a thing back here,” Pricilla harped.

“It’s cuz she stepped away from the mic,” Lucinda shouted.

“Well, I’m pretty close,” the mayor said, “and I’m not sure. She said she liked the ring and then started crying, so Gabriel kissed her and then she mumbled something about Santa.”

“So what is it, Mommy?” Holly asked.

“Yeah, Vixen, what is it?” Gabe asked, his voice low and rough. His arms tightened around her, one hand sinking dangerously low on her back, the other into her hair.

Regan looked at the two most important people in her world and understood that even though she and Holly made a perfect pair, with Gabe they were the perfect family.

“Yes,” Regan said, loud enough for even Perkins to hear. “Yes, I will marry you.”

“Thank God.” But instead of kissing her, like Regan had hoped, Gabe leaned down and picked Holly up. One arm tightly around Regan, the other holding Holly. “You gonna show her?”

“Show me what?” Regan asked, smiling at her giggling daughter.

Holly reached into the pocket of her Christmas dress and pulled out a cat collar. It was green with a little red bell and had a gold tag dangling from it. “Gabe said I could have a kitty of my very own. So I was hoping you’d say yes and marry him.”

“Hold it up higher,” he said as Holly raised the collar above her head. “A little to your left. Other left. There you go. Now read the tag.”

Collar directly overhead, Holly stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth and squinted at the name tag. “It says Mistletoe. Look, Mrs. Clauses, my new kitty is named Mistletoe.”

“Well, how about that? My favorite holiday plant,” Gabe said, setting down Holly, who took off toward her three grandmas. He pulled Regan close and kissed her, telling without words just how merry a Christmas it was going to be.