“Since we didn’t know you’d be joining us, Sebastian, I haven’t allocated you anything. I suggest you give a little toast.” She nodded toward the two outstanding glasses on Mary’s tea tray that had been pushed up against the side of the sofa. “I chilled some port for you, Sebastian. I know you’re not a sherry drinker.”
Granny had thought of everything.
“Absolutely,” I said, picking up the two glasses and handing one to Celia. Her eyes went wide before she took a seat next to Barbara.
I cleared my throat. “I’m honored to spend my first Christmas at Snowsly this year among the finest people I’ve ever met—”
The door to Granny’s sitting room swung open and Griffin appeared, grinning from ear to ear and wearing a Santa hat. “Ho, ho, ho,” he said. “I’ve brought the champers.” He was carrying a large box which he half-dropped, half-placed on the floor.
“Welcome, Griffin,” Granny said. “It’s nice to meet you finally.”
Just then, Lemon—also wearing a Santa hat—appeared in the doorway behind Griffin.
Griffin turned to greet her. “Mrs. Claus?”
“Santa!” she said, as if a man in a Santa hat calling her Mrs. Claus was just what she’d been expecting. “I’ve just put the sweet potato casserole in the oven.”
“And Griffin bought champagne,” Granny said. “Now we just have Sebastian’s speech and we can seat ourselves at the table. Sebastian?”
“As I was saying, I’m delighted and honored to spend my first Christmas at Snowsly this year among the finest people I’ve ever met. We—I’d like to think I’m one of you now—have had the most successful Christmas market ever. We’ve overcome every obstacle put in our way.” My eyes slid to Celia, who blushed under my gaze. For the first time since I’d met her, she wore her hair loose. It fell across her shoulders in rivulets of glossy white icicles. Her ice-blue eyes burned bright.
“But I can’t be sorry for any of the issues we faced. Granny’s ankle brought me here, the tree falling down brought the village together, and getting stranded overnight in Snowsville . . . Well, let’s just say it all worked out in the end. We stayed on course and stayed true to what Snowsly is: a family.” I raised my glass. “To Snowsly.”
Everyone joined in with my toast. “To Snowsly,” they cheered in unison.
“Thank you, Sebastian,” Granny replied. “And I know you say it’s a group effort, and of course it is, but I wanted to say special thanks for coming when I called.”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Granny.”
I hadn’t been prepared to stay in Snowsly for Christmas Day, not at first. But Granny’s continued love and commitment to me and my happiness meant that when I finally changed my mind, I was welcomed as if I’d spent every Christmas here since I was born.
I sat on the arm of the sofa next to Celia, leaned over and clinked my glass against hers.
“I know we shouldn’t say this, Sebastian,” Barbara said, “but we’ve all been rooting for you two since . . . well, honestly, since this time last year.”
I chuckled at the thought of Celia becoming single and the villagers of Snowsly planning her next relationship with a man none of them had seen for ten years. But then again, maybe they’d been on to something.
“Yes,” Howard said. “I always thought you two would be a good match.”
The last two weeks had felt like a lifetime. Not because it had been difficult, but because they seemed to erase all the time before. This was where I should have been all along. This was home.
“I knew he’d be back one day,” Barbara said. “We’ve missed you.”
Celia threaded her fingers through mine and I squeezed her hand. “I’ve missed you too.” Without ever knowing her, I’d even sort of missed Celia, or at least, there was something inside me that I hadn’t known was empty until it was suddenly satiated. I’d found who I’d been looking for, exactly where I was meant to be.
Epilogue
Later on that day
Sebastian
Christmas Day in Snowsly was pretty much like any other day in Snowsly. Full of kindness, laughter, and that sense of home I’d been missing for so long. How could I have thought I might have been disappointed by being here?
Granny had catered for twenty-five rather than fifteen, but she insisted that leftovers were actually more important that the actual Christmas lunch.
“I’ve done my best,” Howard said, putting his knife and fork down and rubbing his belly. “I just can’t eat another morsel. That Christmas pudding was magnificent, Barbara. It always is.”
Barbara blushed at Howard’s compliment and I couldn’t help but wonder if anything romantic had happened between them. Maybe the port or the champagne was getting to me. Or maybe it was just the festive season making me soft. More likely it was because I wanted everyone to be as happy as I was.