Marie’s truck engine starts with a roar. “Say hi to Jonah for me,” she hollers before slamming her door shut.

I’m huddled in my jacket as I head for the double doors, shivering against the cold.

Muriel once called the community center the hub of the town, and there isn’t a better way to describe it. Between the farmers’ market and planning the Winter Carnival, I’ve spent so much time within these old walls, the flickering fluorescent lights and musty smell have become familiar, and almost comforting.

I enter the large hall to “Silent Night” playing over the speaker system and a flurry of activity buzzing throughout. Toby and a local named Benjamin are unfolding the last of the round dinner tables, while Emily and two other volunteers arrange chairs, ten to a table. On the far end of the room, next to the seventeen-foot Christmas tree that’s been up for the whole of the Winter Carnival, Teddy and the photographer are setting up the props around Santa’s ornate chair. All along the perimeter of the large room, long, rectangular tables that will be used to display items for a silent auction are already half full of donations, everything from gift baskets to handmade socks to painted mountain landscapes.

And at the center of it all is my stocky neighbor, in her usual rolled-up jeans—on account of her short legs—and a flannel button-down shirt that barely closes over her ample chest. I can always tell when she’s just washed her hair because her gray curls are tight against her scalp.

“Hey, Muriel,” I call out.

She spins on her heels at the sound of my voice and makes an overt display of checking her watch. “Glad to see you could join us today, Calla.”

I’ve long since learned not to let Muriel’s abrasive personality get under my skin. Her words carry no malice. It’s who she is. “Sorry. Jonah’s mom wants to do some baking today, so I had to dig through my cupboards. I didn’t want her running out to the store if she didn’t need to.”

“Oh.” Muriel nods, as if she approves of my excuse for the tardiness. “And how is everyone getting on over there so far?”

“Fine.” Aside from Jonah wanting to strangle his stepfather, but I’m not getting into family drama with Muriel. “They’re still getting settled.”

“I remember holidays with my in-laws. It was a stressful time every year.” She shakes her head. “Teddy’s mother was something else. You’ve never met a more controlling woman in your life, I’ll tell ya. He’s lucky I have as much patience as I do, or we might never have gotten married.”

A bark of laughter sounds nearby. Toby, within earshot of our conversation.

“What’s so funny over there?” Muriel’s eyes narrow at her son. “You got somethin’ to say?”

I’m struggling to not let my own amusement slip. “So, Muriel, where do you want me to start?”

She turns back to her clipboard, dragging a stubby finger down the left margin. “You can start on the table settings.”

“Perfect.” Something I actually enjoy.

“The linens are in the storage room in the back. Centerpieces are in the big green containers in the corner. There’s no need to get fancy with them,” she warns. “We have three candles per table and enough—No! Not that background!” she hollers at Teddy.

He pauses to frown at the snowy landscape scene behind Santa’s chair, scratching his natural long, white beard. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“We did that one last year.”

“Well, I didn’t know that.”

“You were here!” Muriel huffs and storms off toward him, clipboard tucked under her arm. “We alternate. This year is the fireplace background.”

As much as I pity Teddy, at least Muriel is too distracted with him to hound after me.

“They have this same argument every year.” Toby adjusts the table nearest me a few inches to the left, an amused smirk on his face. “Every year, he puts up the wrong one.”

I frown. “Every year?”

“Every year,” Emily chirps, smiling at Toby on her way past.

Toby chuckles. “So, how are things really going over at your place?” He sees my expression and nods. “Yeah, Jonah seemed off this morning.”

“He got some news he wasn’t happy about.” I tell Toby about Astrid’s health surprise and Jonah’s mounting guilt over her flying here.

“Shit.”

“She says it’s not a big deal, but …” I shrug.

“It’s his mom,” Toby finishes off.

“Exactly.” And as wild as Jonah can be sometimes when it comes to his own safety, he is overprotective to a fault when it comes to those he loves. It’s a double standard that is equal parts irritating and endearing.

“And she’s going to have to fly all the way here again when you guys get married.”

“I don’t think Jonah’s even thought about that yet.” He’s going to lose his mind when he does. My unease grows. “He’ll try to convince me to go to Oslo to get married.”

“That could be nice.”

“No, it could not.”

Toby’s eyebrow arches in question.

“It’s on the other side of the world and I have no roots there.”

He considers that for a moment. “Yeah, but Jonah would rock the lederhosen.”

I giggle-snort. “Do they wear those there? You know what? It doesn’t matter. No wedding in Norway. It’s got to be either Toronto or here. My mother is pushing for Toronto.” As much as it shocks me, the idea of an Alaskan wedding is sounding more appealing by the day.

Toby scratches his head in thought. “Or you could get married now, since Jonah’s mom is already here.”

I laugh off his joke. “Yeah, right.”

But Toby’s expression says he isn’t kidding this time. “Why not? Your parents will be here, too. My dad could marry you.” He nods toward Teddy, fumbling with the screen stand while tugging at the back of his jeans to keep them from falling down. “He got his certification a bunch of years ago when my cousin was getting married. He can legally marry you. All you’d need is the license.”

Toby is actually serious. “I can’t.”

“Why not? Who else do you really need?”

“Well, I mean … Diana! She’s my maid of honor. I can’t get married without her!” I sputter over my answer. While I haven’t begun planning our wedding yet, what Toby is suggesting is far from what I had envisioned.

“I’m sure she’d understand, given the health concerns.”

“My mother would kill me. She has her heart set on the real deal.”

“It’ll still be real. Just … simpler.” Toby shrugs, his eyes flickering to the engagement ring on my finger, an intricate display of diamonds set in a snowflake design. “Anyway, it’s a thought.”

“Hey! Enough gabbing, you two!” Muriel claps her hands. “We only have seven hours left before people start showing up.”

“Only seven more hours of this,” Toby murmurs, casting a secretive wink before continuing to adjust the next table.

I dash off to the storage room for the linens, Toby’s suggestion lingering in the back of my mind.