Chapter Eighty-One
Epilogue
Michaela
My first Christmas hosting duty and I was not panicking.
Did I check the silverware was spotless three times? Yes.
Switch the music twice? Yes.
Change from a skirt to pants to a skirt again? Also yes.
But it wasn’t panic.
“Sweetheart, it’s going to be lovely.” Lincoln pulled me into his arms and forced me to stop pacing. “Everyone’s getting along.”
“Not everyone.” We were still missing guests.
“Thomas texted from the airport.”
“Really? Why didn’t he text me?”
Lincoln looked at me with an expression that said are you kidding?
are you kidding?“Fine...”
Moira had arrived Monday. Victor and Gloria and Marco and Francesca and their girls trickled in after that, the first Christmas I didn’t dread spending with them since Jonny died.
Lincoln had
