“Don’t laugh. I just might,” Kristen joked as she started cleaning up. They’d made a mess, with flour all over the counters and floor, six dirty bowls, spatulas and spoons all over the place, and a row of wire racks on which cookies cooled on the old pine table they now used as a kitchen island. Kristen didn’t mind the mess though; it was all part of the Christmas magic.
Dorothy bit into a cookie as she watched her daughter. “It’s good to have you home.”
Kristen turned from putting the last bowl in the sink. Her throat thick, she said, “It’s good to be here.” And she meant it. She’d missed moments like this while she’d been so far away.
Throughout her breakup, when she’d made the decision to come back home, she’d never thought of it as a failure. She’d never thought of Pinecone Falls as second best. It hadn’t had a lot of job opportunities when she’d graduated college, and if she’d wanted a career in management, she knew she had to stay in the city.
But now, things were different. She’d had a career—or at least the start of one—and it wasn’t all she’d thought it would be. With the passing of her father, there was a gap in the family business. Shoes that needed to be filled. What better way to put her management degree and experience to use than by managing her own family business?
George scampered across the floor, the mouse head poking out from between his little fangs. In a graceful move, he jumped from the floor to the sill of the window overlooking the street. George filled up one corner of the large window as he crouched low on his haunches, toy still tucked between his teeth.
Movement across the road caught her eye. The cars were still in the driveway of the bungalow, where they had been when she’d arrived. Now, an older man was decorating the front porch with silver garland. At least this stuff was obviously fake, unlike the wreath that tried to pass as real pine.
The man had white hair combed back from his forehead and seemed to be in relatively good shape for someone who had to be in his sixties. His black winter coat hid most of his torso, but even from this distance, Kristen could see that his shoulders were still straight with pride and maybe some military training in his past.
When her mom joined her at the window, Kristen joked, “Looks like the new neighbor is your age, Mom. Have you gone over to say hi? Is he cute?”
The expression on Dorothy’s face stiffened. It made her look older, with fresh lines carved around her mouth and nose. Was it too soon for Kristen to be joking about her mom reentering the dating pool? She was no good at this sort of thing. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut.
“Whatever you’re thinking, Krissy, get it out of your head.”
Kristen wrinkled her nose at the nickname. She’d never liked it, and her mother only used it when she was displeased.
“Sorry. I just thought—”
Her mom turned away from the window as the oven timer went off. “He owns that new Christmas shop in town. The one that sells the artificial trees.”
“What Christmas shop? You didn’t tell me anything about that.”
Dorothy slid the cookie sheet onto the stovetop and started shifting the cooled cookies to make room on the racks for the new batch. “Did you drive through town on your way here? You can’t miss it. It’s called Tinseltown, and it practically lights up the whole street.”
The quaint downtown area of Pinecone Falls was always a riot of Christmas decorations once the season arrived, and there were even several events in which business owners competed to make even more Christmas decor they could display around town. It was always in good fun, and in the end, the mishmash of decorations looked charming and homey, authentic rather than artificial.
“I didn’t notice Tinseltown.” Kristen opened and closed several cupboards in succession, looking for the storage containers. She’d been away too long to remember where her mom put everything. “How’s…” Business didn’t seem like the right word. The Woodward Christmas Tree Farm was more than a business. It was a community pillar. It was the foundation of her family’s life. She cleared her throat and tried again. “How’s the farm doing?”
“Fine. Really fine.”
Kristen frowned. Her mother’s tone didn’t sound fine. There was definitely something going on, but by the way her mother said it, she knew now was not the time to ask. Hopefully, her mom was just finding it challenging to try to run the business without her father. She wouldn’t have to worry about that now that Kristen was here.
She found a container that would hold at least some of the cookies and pulled it out from the stack. When she turned, she found her mom staring out the window, a wrinkle in the middle of her forehead. She opened her mouth to say something comforting, but what fell out instead was “We should decorate the porch.”
Dorothy turned away from the window, frowning. “What?”
“We should decorate the porch. Show that we can still compete with…that.” She gestured vaguely across the street, toward the other house.
Only now, it wasn’t only the older man out on the porch. He was speaking to a second man, one much younger. From this distance, it was hard to make out any detail other than the fact that the newcomer was tall and lean.
“Who’s that?”
This time, her mother smirked. “Mr. Hale’s son. He’s your age.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe you should consider going over to say hi and find out if he’s cute.”
“Very funny.” Kristen looked at her mom, and they both cracked up laughing. Kristen’s spirits lifted. Her mom wasn’t worried enough not to try to turn the tables on her. That was a good thing.
She’d almost managed to catch her breath when her brother strolled into the kitchen with a scowl on his face. He filched a cookie on his way to the window to join them.
Dorothy protested, “Not those. We were going to add icing to those. They’re plain.”
“S’good like this,” he said through a mouthful of cookie. He nodded at Kristen as he stepped alongside her and gave her a half hug.
