Mistletoe Harmonies Bonus Epilogue
This is a bonus Epilogue for readers of Mistletoe Harmonies. It is best read after you’ve finished the entire novel.
Ella
Palmar Island, Three Years Later…
The aroma of roasting chicken and herbs fills our cozy home as I put the finishing touches on dinner. Outside, a crisp wind blows in from the ocean. Christmas lights twinkle from the neighbors’ houses, and our own tree stands proudly in the corner of the living room, adorned with a mix of store-bought and handmade ornaments.
My hands shake slightly as I place the plates on the table. I’ve been planning this moment for days, ever since that second line turned pink and changed everything. Excitement bubbles up inside me, mingling with a hint of nerves. How will Dylan react? We’ve talked about having kids, of course, but always as a someday thing. Now someday is here.
The front door opens, bringing with it a gust of cold air and the sound of Dylan stamping his boots. “Elle? You home?”
“In the kitchen!” I call back, smoothing my hands over my apron and taking a deep breath.
Dylan appears in the doorway, his cheeks flushed from the cold, his hair standing up from the wind. His face lights up when he sees me, and my heart does a little flip. Even after three years of marriage, he still looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Something smells amazing,” he says, crossing the room to plant a kiss on my cheek. “What’s the occasion?”
I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. “Can’t a girl cook a nice dinner for her husband just because?”
Dylan raises an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Sure, but you’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you’re up to something,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Spill it, Langford. What are you planning?”
I laugh, pushing him away playfully. “Nothing! Now go wash up. Dinner’s almost ready.”
As Dylan heads upstairs, I reach into the drawer where I’ve hidden the tiny Christmas stocking. My fingers trace the embroidered “Baby Thorne,” and I have to blink back tears. We’re going to be parents. The thought is equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.
Dinner passes in a blur of casual conversation. Dylan tells me about his day at the music school, about a particularly promising young pianist he’s been working with. I share stories from my songwriting session, carefully avoiding any mention of the slight nausea I’d battled all morning.
As we finish our meal, my nerves return full force. This is it.
“Hey,” I say, reaching across the table to take Dylan’s hand. “I have something for you.”
Dylan’s eyebrows shoot up. “A present? Christmas is still a few weeks away.”
I smile, my heart racing. “This couldn’t wait. Close your eyes.”
He obliges, a curious smile on his face. I retrieve the stocking from its hiding place and place it gently in his hands.
“Okay,” I say softly. “Open them.”
Dylan’s eyes flutter open, focusing on the tiny stocking in his hands. For a moment, he just stares at it, uncomprehending. Then his eyes widen, darting from the stocking to my face and back again.
“Ella,” he whispers. “Are you…?”
I nod, tears spilling down my cheeks. “We’re going to have a baby.”
The next thing I know, I’m swept up in Dylan’s arms, his laughter mingling with my happy sobs. He spins me around the kitchen, holding me like he’ll never let go.
When he finally sets me down, his eyes are shining with unshed tears. “A baby,” he says in wonder, his hand coming to rest gently on my still-flat stomach. “Our baby.”
I cover his hand with mine, overwhelmed by the love I see in his eyes. “Are you happy?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
“Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Dylan says, pulling me close. “I’m ecstatic, terrified, overwhelmed. Elle, we’re going to be parents!”
We spend the next hour cuddled on the couch, talking about our future. Dylan wants to turn the spare room into a nursery, already planning a music-themed decor. I laugh at his enthusiasm, my heart so full it feels like it might burst.
“When should we tell everyone?” Dylan asks, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my arm.
I consider for a moment. “What about at the Christmas gathering? Everyone will be there, and it seems fitting, doesn’t it? A Christmas surprise.”
Dylan grins, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Perfect. Just like you.”
As we sit there, wrapped in each other’s arms with the Christmas tree twinkling in the background, I’m filled with a sense of contentment I’ve never known before. Our little family is growing, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds.
***
The Langford family home is a whirlwind of activity on Christmas Eve. The scent of Mom’s famous cinnamon rolls mingles with the pine fragrance of the enormous Christmas tree dominating the living room. Laughter and snatches of conversation drift from every corner as our extended family mills about, exchanging hugs and catching up.
Dylan and I sit on the loveseat, his arm draped casually over my shoulders. To anyone else, we probably look like we always do—happy, in love. But I can feel the excited tension thrumming through Dylan’s body, matching my own barely contained anticipation.
“When should we do it?” Dylan whispers in my ear, nodding towards the carefully wrapped gift sitting innocuously under the tree.
I glance around the room. Jenna and Chandler are animatedly discussing their recent trip to Europe with my cousin Amy. Mom and Aunt Sarah are arranging plates of cookies on the coffee table. Dad and Dylan’s parents are engrossed in a conversation about the latest town council meeting.
“How about now?” I suggest. “Before we start opening presents?”
Dylan nods, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze before standing up. “Everyone,” he calls out, his voice cutting through the chatter. “Ella and I have a special gift we’d like our parents to open early, if that’s okay.”
All eyes turn to us, curiosity evident on every face. I feel a blush creeping up my neck as I retrieve the gift from under the tree.
“Here, Mom, Dad,” I say, handing them the package. My voice shakes slightly, and I feel Dylan’s steadying hand on my back. “This is for both of you.”
Dylan hands a matching gift to his mother and father.
Mom and Dad exchange a puzzled look before carefully unwrapping the gift. As the paper falls away, revealing the frame inside, I hold my breath.
For a moment, there’s silence as they stare at the ultrasound picture. Then Mom gasps, her hand flying to her mouth.
“Ella,” she whispers, her eyes filling with tears. “Is this…?”
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Dad looks from the picture to me, his expression a mix of shock and dawning joy.
“We’re going to be grandparents?” he asks, his voice gruff with emotion.
“Surprise,” Dylan says softly, his arm tightening around my waist.
The room erupts into chaos. Jenna lets out a squeal that could probably be heard across the island, launching herself at me in a bone-crushing hug.
“I’m going to be an aunt!” she says, bouncing up and down.
Mom and Dad engulf us in a group hug, both of them crying openly now. I can feel Dad’s tears on my cheek as he whispers, “My baby girl is having a baby.”
Dylan’s parents are next, his mom already talking a mile a minute about knitting baby blankets and his dad clapping Dylan on the back so hard he stumbles.
As the initial excitement dies down, we’re bombarded with questions. When are you due? Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl? Have you thought of names?
We answer as best we can, sharing that I’m due in early July and that it’s too early to know the gender. We haven’t discussed names yet, but Dylan jokes that “Melody” could work for a girl or a boy.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of joy and celebration. The actual gift exchange is almost an afterthought, everyone more excited about the impending new addition to the family.
As the night winds down, I find myself by the Christmas tree, absently touching the ornaments. So much has changed since last Christmas, and next year will be even more different. The thought is both thrilling and a little scary.
“Hey,” Dylan’s voice breaks through my reverie. “You okay?”
I turn to see him standing under the mistletoe hanging in the doorway, a soft smile on his face. “Never better,” I say, moving to join him. “Just thinking about how different things will be next Christmas.”
Dylan pulls me close, one hand coming to rest on my stomach. “Different, but amazing,” he says. “I can’t wait to see you as a mom, Elle. You’re going to be incredible.”
I lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “We’re going to be incredible,” I say. “This baby is so lucky to have you as a dad.”
Dylan tilts my chin up, his eyes shining with love. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Thorne,” he murmurs.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Thorne,” I reply, smiling up at him.
As our lips meet in a sweet kiss, I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of joy and gratitude. This wasn’t the life I’d imagined for myself when I left for New York all those years ago, chasing dreams of stardom. But standing here, in the arms of the man I love, surrounded by family and with a new life growing inside me, I know without a doubt that this is better than any dream I could have had.
The future stretches out before us, full of promise and new adventures. There will be challenges, of course—sleepless nights, diaper changes, the juggling act of parenthood and careers. But as I look into Dylan’s eyes, I know we can handle anything as long as we’re together.
As we break apart, someone starts up the karaoke machine—a Thorne family tradition. Dylan’s eyes light up with mischief. “What do you say, Elle? One more duet before we call it a night?”
I laugh, letting him lead me towards the makeshift stage. “Always,” I say. “After all, our best songs are yet to come.”
And as we launch into a slightly off-key but heartfelt rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” I know that the melody of our lives is only going to get sweeter from here on out. This baby, this family we’re creating—it’s the most beautiful music we’ve ever made.
*** The End ***
I hope you’ve enjoyed reading Beanful Wishes and this little bonus Epilogue. Ready for more? I have not one, but two Christmas series that take place on Palmar Island. If you enjoyed Mistletoe Harmonies, you’ll love these books.
The Winter Brothers of Palmar Island
