Mistletoe Moment

a Christmas flash fiction 

by Laurie Ingram Sibley

She’d been aware of the mistletoe from the moment she walked into the faculty Christmas party. As a no-nonsense botany professor, Emily prided herself on her knowledge of both the plant—a hemi-parasitic evergreen—and its accompanying legends of Norse gods and Celtic druids. Historically, the plant had been used to treat arthritis, epilepsy, and infertility. 

What no one had quite figured out was how mistletoe had come to represent a holiday kiss. The tradition stemmed from the 18th century, but the entire notion was ridiculous. 

Just about as ridiculous as two people named Emily and Emmett becoming a couple, as her colleagues and the handsome department head himself kept pushing for. Her friends called her Em for short, and his friends did the same to him. She refused to be part of a couple who could be called the “Em and Ems.” Too bad Emmett couldn’t look at things with the same objectivity.

Who cared if he was the tallest, smartest, and most tenured man in the room? Never mind that his eyes had lit up the moment she paused in the doorway where the mistletoe hung. So what if a kiss from Emmett was secretly on her Christmas wish list? It shouldn’t be. They couldn’t be.

Emmett stalked toward her so purposefully that her whole body tingled. She took an involuntary step backward and then stiffened her spine, rooting herself in place. She had been here first. Mistletoe or not, the doorway between the two rooms of the event space was a perfectly convenient location to stand. 

Emmett leaned his hand against the wall over her shoulder. “Funny meeting you here, in such a romantic spot.”

“For goodness sake. The name of this plant comes from the ancient Anglo-Saxon word for bird poop.”

“Is that right? I figured it was called mistletoe because a good kiss can make your toes curl.”

Emily harrumphed.

Emmett leaned in closer. “Have you ever been kissed, Dr. Padgett?”

She lifted her chin, accidentally bringing her lips even closer to his. “Not in a way that affected my toes.”

“Hmm,” he murmured. “We seem to have found a gap in your education, professor.” He slid his hand along her jawline and into her hair. 

Her heart rate sped up alarmingly. “The other faculty . . .”

He nuzzled her nose with his. “Have been waiting for this moment as long as I have.”

“But the Em and Ems,” she said halfheartedly against his mouth.

He pulled back. “You want candy? Right now? In the middle of what has the potential to be the best kiss either of us has ever experienced?”

“No. Our names. We can’t—”

Emmett’s low chuckle rolled over her, sending goosebumps sprouting. “For such an intelligent woman, you worry about the strangest things. Now, I’m going to kiss you. And you’re going to melt like an M&M.”

Love blossomed as Emily gave herself over to Emmett’s Christmas kiss . . . which was indeed both mouth-melting and mistle-toe-curling.