Free Mistletoe Magic by Lynn Patrick

me?”
    “I waited but you didn’t have time.”
    “I did so. You simply got impatient. What a mess!” Louise took Gretta’s head in her hands to survey the damage. Melissa thought the other woman was more abrupt than she’d usually be with her granddaughter. “Your hair is ruined. How can I put you on a plane tomorrow and send you to your mother like this? You’ve been a bad girl! What shall we do?”
    “It’s ruint?”
    “You’re going to look awful.” Louise seized a brush from a nearby shelf and then grabbed the child. “Honestly, do I have to hide all the scissors? What got into you, Gretta?”
    “I ruint my hair?” Gretta’s eyes filled with tears. The unexpected disapproval from Louise was upsetting her. “Can’t I go see Mommy anyway?” As Louise held up strands from her ravaged bangs and frowned, Gretta began to cry in earnest. “I didn’t mean to,” she wailed.
    Melissa’s heart was touched. “Let me look at it,” she told Louise. “I’m pretty good at cutting hair. Maybe I can do something.” Kneeling beside Gretta, she said softly, “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll fix it this time, but you shouldn’t try to cut your hair by yourself, you know.”
    “I won’t do it again, I promise. Can I still go see Mommy?”
    “I didn’t say you couldn’t see your mom,” Louise told the little girl. “I only want you to look nice for her.”
    “And we’ll make sure you look extra nice,” Melissa said assuringly, leading Gretta down the hall to the bathroom and winking at Louise as the older woman followed to hand her a pair of scissors.
    It took some clever work, but Melissa trimmed what remained of Gretta’s bangs into layers slanting across her temples. “Like it?” she asked the child as she tried to blend a few impossibly short strands into the style.
    “It’s different.”
    “But we girls like to try different styles, don’t we? Maybe you’ll start a new fashion.”
    “I will?”
    “Of course. You can wear it this way now and then let it grow back again or try something even newer. Just make sure you let your Gran cut it when you want to change your hairstyle.”
    “Or you?”
    “Sure.” Melissa almost added “if I’m here,” but thought better of it.
    “How cute!” Louise peeked inside the bathroom. When Gretta ran outside to admire herself in a full-length mirror, she lowered her voice. “Thanks. It looks good. Actually, I’d put off doing Gretta’s hair because I’m so bad with haircuts. I thought Nicole would trim it in California.” Smiling, she headed back toward the kitchen as the phone rang.
    “Let’s go upstairs!” Gretta had regained her good humor.
    Noticing that Louise was sitting at the kitchen table talking on the phone, Melissa followed the child upstairs, Gretta trying to take two steps at a time. The little girl had made a ritual of showing Melissa any of her new possessions since the first time she’d arrived at the house to go out to dinner with Rafe. Now Gretta led the way into her room past shelves of dolls and plush animals that she’d already introduced by age and name, past full toy boxes, to a pile of papers spread out over her small desk.
    Shuffling a stack of drawing paper and a few coloring books aside, Gretta said, “Here they are!” She held up a package of brightly colored poster paints. “Want me to make you a picture?”
    “I’d like that,” agreed Melissa. “But don’t you think we’d better go downstairs? Paints can be messy.”
    “I want to paint here,” the child insisted.
    “You might spill paint on your rug or your bed.”
    “I’m gonna paint here!” Gretta raised her voice.
    Taken aback, Melissa decided to try a different tactic. “Well, okay. But the kitchen table is lots bigger than your desk. You could do a really big picture there.”
    “Yeah? A really, really big one?”
    Melissa was happy Gretta finally agreed and gathered up some paper to bring along. If only the little girl hadn’t been used