Melinda lets her mind wander as they drive through the darkness to her father’s house. She had been so relieved when he had accepted her back into his life without hesitation. And to be spending Christmas with him, Greg and her new-found family was more perfect than she ever would have imagined. Her thoughts are broken by the sound of Greg breaking into the chorus of “We Wish You A Merry Christmas.” She looks over and grins at him, knowing that he his purposely singing off key for her benefit. Soon she joins in, laughing as he makes up funny lyrics to the songs.      Melinda stops singing and frowns when Greg pulls the car onto an unfamiliar road. “Greg?”      He looks at her and grins. “You’ll see,” he says, his eyes dancing.      She raises her eyebrows and smiles at him. ‘Always up to something,’ she thinks, a wave of love sweeping over her. She leans over and puts her hand on his leg. He reaches down and covers her hand with his, giving her fingers a small squeeze.      On the horizon, Melinda gets sight of a lake shining in the moonlight. Greg turns onto another road and then stops the car.      “Come on,” he says, his voice hushed. “I want to show you this.”      He takes her by the hand and walks her to the side of the water. The surface of the lake is perfectly calm and Melinda realizes that it is frozen solid. Snow begins falling lightly around them, sticking to their clothes and eyelashes, melting on their skin. Greg reaches down and takes a small lantern out of a duffel bag he had been carrying. He lights it, and the area around them takes on an unearthly glow.      “It’s beautiful here, Greg,” she says. “So peaceful.”      He is silent and she listens to the sounds of the woods, growing muffled by the falling snow.      “I’ve been meaning to take you here,” Greg says. “My parents used to bring us every year around this time. We’d light a fire, go ice-skating on the lake if it was frozen, pick out our Christmas tree and drink hot chocolate. Wait a minute.” He holds up a finger and then reaches down into his bag, pulling out a thermos and two mugs. “Hot chocolate,” he says, grinning.      Melinda laughs and holds out her mug as Greg fills it. She takes a deep breath of the steaming liquid, enjoying the smell of the sweetness against the crisp air.      “I wanted to continue the tradition. And there is no better person to do it with than you. For the rest of our lives, even.”      Melinda cocks her head to the side and laughs. “Gregory Marlowe,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “What are you doing? Proposing marriage?”      Greg looks at his feet for a moment and then looks back up until he meets her eyes. “Actually,” he says, “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”