Let It Snow: Three Holiday Romances

time  a  bell  rings,  an  angel  gets  her  wings.  Then  a  burst  of  cold  air  brought  me  back  to  reality,  and  I
realized it was the bell on the door making such a clatter.
“Addie, you’re here!” Dorrie cried, barging toward me in a bright red hat.
Beside her, Tegan beamed. “And he’s here! We saw him in the parking lot!”
“I’m the one who spotted him,” Dorrie said. “He looks like he’s been out in the wilderness for days, so
prepare yourself. To be perfectly honest, Sasquatch is what comes to mind. But—”
She broke off, noticing Stuart and Jubilee. “Stuart’s with a girl,” she whispered in a voice loud enough
to bring down a house.
“I know!” I whispered back. I grinned at Stuart and Jubilee, who both turned as red as Dorrie’s hat.
“Hi,  Dorrie,”  Stuart  said.  “Hi,  Tegan.”  He  put  his  arm  around  Jubilee  and  patted  her  shoulder,  half
nervously and half just plain sweetly.
“Gabriel!” Tegan squealed. She rushed over and scooped Gabriel from my arms, which was lucky, as
my muscles were wobbly. My whole body was wobbly, because the bell on the door was jingling again,
and it was Jeb,
and he was a total mess,
and sobs rose inside me, and laughter, too, because he really did look like Sasquatch, with straggly hair
and wind-chapped cheeks and his strong jaw shadowed with stubble.
His dark eyes darted from person to person, then landed on me. He strode over and crushed me in his
arms, and I hugged him with every bit of myself. My cells sang.
“Oh, man, Addie, it’s been a crazy couple of days,” he murmured into my ear.
“Yeah?” I said, soaking in the glorious, solid realness of him.

---

“First my train got stuck. Then there were these cheerleaders, and we all ended up in the Waffle House,
and they kept making me help them with their lifts—”
“Their lifts?” I drew back so I could see his face but kept my arms circled around him.
“And every single one of them left her phone on the train so she could focus on spirit,  or  something.
And  I  tried  to  use  the  Waffle  House  phone,  but  the  manager  was  like,  ‘Sorry,  no  can  do.  Crisis  mode,
dude.’”
“Ouch,” Tobin said, cringing.
“See what happens when boys get obsessed with cheerleaders?” Angie said.
“Although  it’s  not  fair  to  be  prejudiced  against  all  cheerleaders,”  Jubilee  said.  “Just  the  ones  whose
names rhyme with showy. Right, Stuart?”
Stuart looked amused.
Jubilee waved at Jeb. “Hi, Jeb.”
“Julie,” Jeb said. “What are you doing here?”
“Her name’s not Julie, it’s Jubilee,” I whispered helpfully.
“Jubilee?” Jeb repeated. “Whoa.”
“No,” Christina said, and all eight of us turned to look at her. “I am the one who gets to say whoa here,
and I’m saying it right now, okay?”
No one responded, so finally I said, “Uh, okay. But come on, it’s not that weird a name.”
She looked pained. “Addie,” she said, “I need you to tell me right now: Did you bring a pig  into  my
store?”
Ohhhh. Right.
Pig in store . . . was there any way to put a spin on this?
“He’s a really cute pig,” I said. “Does that count for anything?”
Christina pointed to the door. “The pig has to go. Now.”
“Fine, fine,” I said. “I just need to give Tegan a cup to put him in.”
“Think Flobie’ll ever dip into drinkware?” Stuart said to Jubilee under his breath.
“I’m sorry, what’s that?” I said.
Giggling, Jubilee elbowed Stuart and said, “Ignore. Please.”
Dorrie  stepped  closer  to  me.  “You  did  good,  Addie,”  she  said.  “I  doubted  you,  but  I  shouldn’t  have,
and . . . well, you did good.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Hello?” Christina said. “Did anyone hear me when I said the pig needs to go?”
“Someone needs a refresher in customer service,” Tobin said.
“Maybe Don-Keun could help?” Angie said.
Christina glared, and Tegan stepped backward toward the door. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving!”
“Wait!” I said. I released Jeb long enough to grab a snowflake mug from the shelf, which I handed to
Tegan. “For Gabriel.”
“If the regional manager stops in, I’m fired,” Christina said hopelessly. “Pigs are not part of Starbucks
policy.”
“Here you go, sweetie,” Tegan said, tilting Gabriel so that he slipped into the mug. He scrabbled a bit,
then seemed to realize the mug was just his size and made a decent house, actually. He sat on his haunches
and oinked, and every one of us gave a collective awwww. Even Christina.
“Excellent,” Dorrie said. “Now come on, we better go before Christina plotzes.”
I grinned at Jeb, who grinned back. His gaze shifted to my hair, and his eyebrows went up.
“Hey,” he said. “You changed your hair.”
“Oh,  yeah,”  I  said.  It  seemed  like  a  lifetime  ago.  That  blonde-haired  boo-hoo-hoo  girl  who  spent
Christmas feeling sorry for herself, was that really me?

---

“Looks  nice,”  he  said.  He  rubbed  a  lock  between  his  thumb  and  forefinger.  His  knuckles  slid  down,
grazing my cheek.
“Addie, I want you,” he whispered, and heat flamed to my face. Did he honestly just say that? That he
wanted me, right here in Starbucks?
Then I realized what he meant. He was responding to my e-mail, the part where I said, If you want me,
I’m yours.
My  cheeks  stayed  warm,  and  I  was  glad  no  one  in  the  store  had  ESP,  because  that  was  a  classically
self-absorbed  misinterpretation.  But  even  if  they  did  have  ESP—and  how  would  I  know,  anyway?—it
was certainly no crisis.
I rose on my toes and wrapped my arms around Jeb’s neck.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” I warned him, since I knew how he felt about being mushy in public.
“No,” he said, gently but firmly. “I’m going to kiss you.”
His lips touched mine, and a ringing filled my head, sweet and silver and pure. It was probably the bell
on the door, jingling as Dorrie and Tegan went out. But I was far too busy to check.

---

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Table of Contents
the jubilee express
maureen johnson
a cheertastic christmas miracle
john green
the patron saint of pigs
lauren myracle

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Document Outline

• the jubilee express
• maureen johnson
• a cheertastic christmas miracle
• john green
• the patron saint of pigs
• lauren myracle