A twelve-year-old Lindsay made a face as Ricky Tulton tried to make a move for her underneath the large mistletoe. She had spent twenty minutes getting her lips perfectly sparkly for the holiday play and she would rather knee him in the stomach than ruin her special "winter look" by kissing him.
So she kneed him, running off to find her friends.
At ten years, Donald Flack Jr. was already adept at avoiding the cheek kisses of his aunts and grandmother that would have him scrubbing his face for hours after everyone had left. It wasn't as if they would miss him – that was one perk of having so many sisters and cousins. So far, this holiday party wasn't turning out so bad.
Until he caught his mother kissing Santa Clause under the mistletoe in the shadows of their hallway.
December 1993
"Lindsay!" Ricky called out. She paid him no heed; all she could think about was getting away from there, and fast.
"Lindsay, I didn't mean to embarrass you!" She ran faster.
When she got home, the door was slammed behind her. Breathing in deeply, Lindsay let the soft scents of gingerbread and chocolate waft over her with their calming effects. She grinned to herself, her hand coming up to touch her red lips.
"Donnie!" Don groaned at the sound of his mother's voice. He switched off the television and reluctantly headed for the kitchen. Handing him a plate of cookies shaped like Christmas trees, she put his coat on and pushed him towards the door. "I need you to take these down to the Kinsleys."
"Ma," he protested. "I'm fifteen years old. Don't ya think there might be other things I could be doin on my Christmas break?" One look silenced him and sent him out into the snow.
Three blocks later, he arrived at the front door of the Kinsleys and knocked loudly. Mary Kinsley opened the door slowly.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Her brother John came running up behind her. "Ha! You're under the mistletoe with Donnie Flack!"
December 1996
She was eyeing the champagne and red wine her older brothers and parents were drinking when he walked up to her. "Not quite twenty-one yet, Linds."
"I know."
"I could sneak you a beer."
"I don't like the beer we have."
"You've had some?"
"Yes."
Ricky spun her around to face him. "Lindsay – are you really transferring to Bozeman?" She nodded, burying her face in his chest as she pulled him closer. He looked up and started to laugh. "Oh, our old friend – Mr. Mistle for a Toe."
Don was eyeing Mary Kinsley, planning out just how he was going to get her underneath the mistletoe.
"It'll never work," John whispered as he came to stand next to his friend. "My sister hates you."
"You like me well enough."
"That's cuz I like your computer."
"Funny."
December 1999
Lindsay pulled away from her partner with a sigh, her phone ringing on the hall table. He moved to follow her but she firmly placed a hand on his arm, signaling him to stay underneath the festive green plant hanging in her doorway.
"Monroe," she answered.
"Is this Lindsay Monroe?"
"Yes. Who is this?"
"This is Harriet Winnows. I'm a nurse at Lorde's Hospital here in –"
"I'm sorry – what did you just say?"
"Well, we have a patient named Richard Tulton here who has you listed as his emergency contact. He was in an accident and I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but it looks like he won't make it. Are you able t—"
The phone hit the floor the same time her head did.
Only three years into the whole process of becoming a police officer and he was progressing rapidly. And it wasn't just in his classes and other assignments; his social life was improving as well.
It was the fifth time that night that he had been "found" under a piece of mistletoe with a very good looking college girl, and he had to say that he was enjoying himself.
"Johnny, my man," he called out across the table. "We gotta do this more often."
"Christmas only comes once a year, Donnie."
"I know that. I meant we should kiss girls more often."
"You're drunk, dude."
"Don't I know it."
For some reason, his hand shook for a few seconds, causing him to drop his beer bottle. He watched it shatter as it hit the floor, and an inexplicable feeling of pain momentarily spread over his heart. But a minute later it was gone and he shrugged it off as having had too much to drink that night.
December 2004
"So, let me get this straight. You want me to apply for a job somewhere else?"
"Yes. I can't have you working here anymore, Detective Monroe. You've become a problem on almost every case you've worked in the past year. I know your friend's death was hard on you, but you—"
"Fine. I'll start looking."
"This is only for your own good, Monroe."
"Uh-huh." She finds it sad that the mistletoe fell underfoot as she slammed his office door, getting crushed by her sensible black shoes that she suddenly felt like shoving somewhere they didn't really belong.
December 2005
Flack had to hold back a laugh at the sight of Danny hovering near the doorway of the bar. It was quite obvious that he knew what was above the aforementioned spot, and it was also quite obvious who he was waiting to casually "bump into" as they left the after work hangout.
Lindsay could see it as well, and she pushed him through before following him into the cold New York air. Flack let out a small smile at how the team's newest member had deftly avoided what Stella and Aiden had dreaded every year.
December 2006
They were engaged. Engaged, planning on getting married, the whole enchilada. And he had done it so . . . perfectly. The video, her parents, oh man. She was so far in love she couldn't see straight anymore.
It's a good thing he had the same problem.
Now where did he hang up that mistletoe . . .
December 2009
"Look, Angel."
"What?"
"Mistletoe."
"Donnie, this is your parent's house. We just rang the doorbell and they're going to answer the door any minute, and I'm holding your baby daughter."
"It's just one quick kiss."
"Alright . . ."
December 2012
"Their first Christmas," you whisper to her as the three newest members of your family stare wide-eyed at the presents Toni is opening for them. She looks up at you with a smile and replies simply, "I know." And suddenly you can't wait to give her present underneath the mistletoe.
December 2014
Gazing out at their children, Mr. and Mrs. Flack seem very content. I guess I could say that because I know a thing or two about being content. I've been content for the past thirteen years, watching my 'family' from up above.
Heaven wasn't all it was cracked up to be at first. I didn't fit in anywhere, no one seemed to want to be friends with me – all of which was strange for two reasons: I was well-liked on earth and heaven was supposed to be, well . . . heaven.
But once I learned to accept where I was, then things got better. I learned how to look in on people's lives, and was very surprised to find that Flack had settled down – with the girl Danny had told me he was goin after. Strange world.
Though probably not quite as strange as when Danny's brother Louie tried to get me under the mistletoe his first Christmas up here.
January 2019
"Who the hell left this up for so long?"
"I don't know. But let's make the most of it, shall we?"
December 2027
"Aww . . . why does she get to go out tonight?" Donna was whining and it was hurting her head.
"Donna, I've told you before. Your sister is eighteen. You and your brothers are only sixteen." Lindsay pulled a pan out of the oven as Flack walked into the kitchen.
"Come on! If I'm old enough to be kissed under the mistletoe, I'm old enough to go out with my friends late at night."
The apple Flack had just picked up fell to the ground.
Later that night, after everyone else was asleep, he went around and took down all the mistletoe around the house.
December 2030
"I'm never going caroling again."
"Donnie, you weren't exactly caroling at that house."
"There was mistletoe! I was just following tradition . . ."
"So next time you'll remember to duck when they start throwing snowballs at us."
"Yeah, yeah. Now where have those god-damn kids of ours gotten off to. They'd better not be finding some mistletoe of their own."
December 2034
"So when are the rest of you going to get married?" Flack asked his triplets at the dinner table.
"Dad!" Donna cried out. "How many times do we have to tell ya – when we're ready, you'll know."
"Alright, alright." He held up his hands in mock defeat. A minute later, "I could just shove you under the mistletoe with somebody."
"Dad!"
December 2039
"Mom," Tim called out as he opened the front door. "Can we talk to you?" Johnny followed close behind.
"What is it, sweeties?" Lindsay reached up and kissed each one on the cheek.
"Aww . . . mom, what was that for?" She just pointed up and grinned.
"Be glad your father's not here."
"Actually, that's good right at the moment," Johnny replied. "Come sit down. We've got some good news for ya." The trio moved into the living room and they placed themselves around the coffee table.
"We're getting married," Tim blurted out, unable to contain himself much longer.
Lindsay looked confused. "Who? Both of you?" They nodded. "A double wedding?" Again, they nodded. A large smile crossed her face and she jumped up and hugged them both.
December 2040
"I always knew my Donna would want a holiday wedding," Flack whispered to his wife as they watched the last of their children head off for her honeymoon.
Lindsay turned to face him with a quizzical look. "How could you have known that?"
"I'm old and wise." She smacked his arm. "Ow! What was that for?"
She smirked up at him. "You're not old, because that makes me old."
Returning the smirk, he leaned forward and said so only she could hear, "Alrighty then. How about we go and find ourselves some mistletoe and prove to each other just how old we're not?"
December 2043
'I'm sixty-five,' you tell yourself, except you don't say it out loud because the woman you love – the woman sitting at the kitchen table making her yearly holiday shopping list as she sips her favorite mint tea underneath a sprig of mistletoe that Tim had insisted on hanging up the previous week – would just scoff at you and remind you that she is sixty-seven.
It throws you for a loop that she's stuck around for this long.
December 2058
You open the door to find your eldest granddaughter kissing her boyfriend under the mistletoe and you laugh at a long forgotten memory of you doing the same thing with your husband at his mother's house.
"Sorry Grams," Rhiannon says as she hugs you and they pass to get to her grandfather. And you're left staring at the small plant that has caused you so much joy and pain over the years.