Epilogue

 

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach!”

—Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

 

The season was a flurry of Christmas tree sales and parties with friends and family. Jocie and her whole class were treated to a hayride at a friend’s stable, and Jocie was a snow globe in her school’s winter pageant. Becca and Jaymie’s parents arrived from Florida to stay in the Queensville house, while Grandma Leighton was ensconced in comfort at the Queensville Inn to enjoy the comraderie of some old friends, including Mrs. Stubbs and her cousin Miss Perry.

But Christmas Eve dinner and the exchange of gifts was at the Müller farm, a German tradition. The warmth of that family had enveloped all of the Leightons. It seemed they always had enough room for one—or several—more. Jaymie dissolved in tears at one point, overwhelmed by her own good fortune and the wonderful life she had stumbled into. She’d never forget that it was one of her “investigations,” when she’d been chased by a villain, that had led her into Jakob’s arms.

Christmas day arrived and was celebrated by the Leighton family with dinner at the Queensville Inn. Too much food, too much wine, but just enough happiness to go around. Alan and Joy drove to Canada the day after, taking Grandma Leighton, his mother, back to London and her comfortable retirement home. Becca and Kevin followed soon after.

Jaymie and Jakob were hosting New Year’s Eve in the Queensville house this year, and Jocie was having her two friends Gemma and Peyton for a sleepover. It was the usual mad dash to get the house ready, but everyone arrived at the appropriate time, the girls had their “midnight countdown” with the adults at nine and then were banished upstairs to giggle and play with Lilibet and Hoppy, watch videos, eat snacks and fall asleep (maybe; doubtful), and the adults, including Austin Calhoun, who had swiftly become a part of their group, ate, conversed, danced, played silly games, and then toasted with champagne or sparkling cider at midnight.

An hour later they were all gone, wending their way home along snowy roads and paths. Austin went home with Heidi, who had adopted him as a friend and brother. Jaymie watched her cell phone as each person sent a reassuring text that they had arrived home safely. Finally it was just her and Jakob.

“Come with me,” she whispered and took his hand. She led him out the back door, across the summer porch, and out to the back flagstone path. The grass was coated in snow, but the path was still bare.

“Darn, I thought you were leading me upstairs,” he said, taking her in his arms and holding her against his warm bulk.

“Soon enough, Mr. Müller. But right now . . .” She looked up to the sky, her head leaned back against Jakob’s shoulder. The Geminid meteor showers were over—they had seen them in the middle of the month—but there were shooting stars every night. “Let’s see one,” she said to Jakob. “And wish on it.”

“I have everything I need and want,” he said, holding her close, breathing in her ear. “But this is good.”

The air was crisp, winter well established. Jaymie’s cheeks were getting cold, but she stared up at the dark night sky as she had when she was a kid. That was a New Year’s Eve tradition with her dad, to go out after midnight and wish on the first shooting star of the new year.

Finally she saw one and closed her eyes, whispering. Then she turned and kissed her husband, looking up into his face, only visible by the spilled light from the kitchen through the summer porch. “I love you,” she said.

“I love you. So . . . what did you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you that. But, I can tell you I’ve never in my life been happier. All I want now in my life is for this to continue.”

“I second that emotion,” he said.

“What?”

“It’s the title of an old song! Don’t you know it? Smokey Robinson. My oldest brother has always loved classic Motown. How can you not, living in Michigan?” He sang a snatch of it, and the lyric was perfect for them and their love.

“Yup. That’s how I feel.”

“Here’s to the new year, Mrs. Müller.”

“And to you, Mr. Müller.”

Kissing is an excellent way to stay warm, they discovered.