“Of course we did! We invited everyone in town and have since the very first party,” Mrs. Worthington adds. “It’s something our family takes pride in, and we were excited to have someone new in Strawberry Hollow. Someone new we could bring into the town tradition that we Worthingtons hold so dear. You snubbed our party, not even dignifying us with a response. We don’t expect every single person invited to come… but then you never even bothered to say hello or speak to us around town. And then you willfully scheduled your party the next year on top of ours, a century-old Strawberry Hollow tradition? It felt… well, it felt like a slap directly in the face.”
Emma and I whip our heads back to Ma, who’s wearing an expression of total bewilderment. She runs her hand over her mouth and shakes her head. “Amelia, we never got an invitation to the Worthington party when we first moved here, have never gotten an invitation to one of your parties ever. We thought that you were excluding us that year because we were outsiders and not a true part of Strawberry Hollow. That’s why we never bothered to say anything when we saw you in town because we thought it was done purposefully, that we were being purposefully excluded since everyone else was invited. You really did invite us?”
Holy fuck. Are they saying…
“Yes, of course we did. Why would we purposely exclude you? We only snubbed you because we thought you were snubbing us,” Mr. Worthington says as Mrs. Worthington nods, adding, “We felt as if we were simply reciprocating your behavior.”
My dad shakes his head. “Assumptions were made, on both parts. It seems like we all acted in a way that does not accurately represent our character. Who we are as people. Who we are as a family. We’ve forgotten how Christmas should be celebrated. I’ll admit we did have our own party, but it was only because we figured we wouldn’t be invited to any parties going forward. All we wanted to do was make new friends and truly make Strawberry Hollow our home. We didn’t know. And being so caught up in all of it, we also turned a blind eye to the boys’ antics, and it has just all gotten out of hand. I’m sorry for that.”
“This was all a very monumental… miscommunication,” Emma whispers, disbelief lacing her tone.
Josie groans. “Ugh, I hate the miscommunication trope.” She mutters the words under her breath but loud enough for me to hear. That girl and her books.
“Oh dear… it does seem to be that way.” Ma nods, her shoulders scrunching up in embarrassment.
For the first time in history, our families seem to be agreeing on something. That something being the fact that for the last three decades, we’ve been fighting over… nothing.
“You’re telling me that our families have been feuding for all of this time over a fucking misplaced invitation?” I say.
Guilt marks my parents’ features, and when I look at the Worthingtons, they’re sporting a similar expression.
“I’m… I’m sorry, Lucy. To you, to your whole family, for all of it. This was so silly and juvenile, and I can’t believe I partook in something like this blindly for years. That I never tried to resolve things sooner,” Emma says with sincerity.
“Emma, it wasn’t just you. It was all of us, sweetheart,” Ma tells her. She pulls Emma into a warm hug before she walks over to Mrs. Worthington. “I’m so very sorry that this happened, Amelia. That’s not enough, simply saying that I’m sorry, but I think it’s the only place to start.”
Mrs. Worthington nods, her face softening. “I’m sorry as well, Lucy. Deeply. For everything over the years, and for you believing for so long that we didn’t want you at our party. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. But, we did try on… occasion to interfere with your parties over the years, trying to shut them down so everyone would come to ours, and that was so wrong of us to do. Spiteful, and I’m just so sorry for everything.” She sniffles, overcome with emotion. “Goodness, we have really mucked this party up, haven’t we? It’s Christmas. Do you think… we could maybe put this behind us? I know there are a lot of bridges to rebuild, but I think I can speak for my family.” She glances at her husband, who nods. “We’d really like to try to start over. For the sake of all of us.”
“There is nothing I would love more,” Ma says, shocking the shit out of me and reaching for Mrs. Worthington and dragging her in for a big hug. “And I think we should make each other a promise, family to family, that if there is ever something that happens like this again, we go directly to the source and never let something cause such a divide again.”
“I think that is perfect. And I’m also sorry for what I said about your cake flavor… It’s actually delicious, and… I think your sweater is absolutely darling,” Mrs. Worthington replies as she pulls back.
Ma laughs, the sound ringing out around us. “You know, I think I have an extra inside that would fit you. Let’s go grab it?”
Mrs. Worthington nods, and when she walks off with Ma, I see my dad approaching Mr. Worthington with his hand extended.
Seeing them shake hands after everything that has happened makes me feel grateful. Then I realize that the rest of the party has picked back up like it never stopped, only this time, the air in the room is inherently… lighter. The thick tension is gone. The band is playing low in the background again, people are laughing, and the smell of gingerbread combined with the crackling hearth fills the air. The big invisible line down the middle of the room has suddenly vanished, and it feels like for the first time tonight, people are genuinely having fun.
Emma spoke about a Christmas miracle earlier, and it seems like we got one after all.
Her hand tightens in mine, and when I glance at her, I see fresh tears of happiness on her cheeks.
“Did that actually just happen?” She laughs, brushing them away. We’re in the middle of the party, completely surrounded by people, but I can’t wait another damn second to hold her.
I pull her to me until she’s tight in my arms and I’m staring at the deep blue of her irises. “I think it did, Snowflake. You know, since everyone’s sharing their feelings, I think now might be as good of a time as any to have that talk.”
Her brow arches. “Oh?”
“I’m crazy about you, Emma Worthington. Head over heels, Snowflake, and loving you is easily the best decision I’ve ever made.”
“You love me?” Her breath hitches.
Grasping her chin in my fingers, I lean closer. “I do. Almost as much as you love sticky notes and to-do lists.”
When she laughs, a dopey smile forms on my lips as she says, “I love you too, Jackson Pearce. Even with your aversion to organization and despite the fact that you are, in fact, terrible at building gingerbread houses.”
“There’s always next year, and now that I’ve got you as my partner, I’m not giving you up.” Brushing my lips across hers, I whisper, “Here’s to new and old traditions… together.”
“Together has never sounded better.”
And to think… this all started with a very festive feud.
THE END
epilogue
Emma
9 months later
“What are you working on?” Jackson says behind me, startling me as I sit at his kitchen table, my head bent over my notebook as I scribble notes on the paper.
I jump, my hand clutching my chest. “Jesus, Jackson, you scared the hell out of me!”