“Great. Now don’t forget the gingerbread-house-decorating contest is tomorrow. What’s your strategy?”
“Strategy?”
“Dad always had one.” Her mother paused and frowned at the look of confusion on Kristen’s face. “I guess you didn’t know that. Remember the pictures in the photo album? I think there’s more in here.”
Dorothy went over to the bookshelf that held one of their many Christmas photo albums.
While she waited for her mother to leaf through the albums and find the pictures of the gingerbread houses, Kristen glanced over at Mason’s house one last time. He was still at his desk, and she had to wonder if he was working on skating-pond plans too.
Mason glanced out the window at the house across the street. The lights were on, and he imagined Kristen inside, working on her own plan. Maybe Mrs. Woodward was in the kitchen, baking more of those delicious cookies.
The wastebasket in the corner was filled with crumpled papers—his attempts at the skating-pond design. He was working on design number eight right now. Hopefully, that one would be good enough to submit.
Maybe he was having such a hard time because he didn’t want to take that opportunity away from the Woodwards. Mrs. Woodward was so nice, and he was really starting to like Kristen. On the other hand, he also wanted his dad to have the best opportunity for success for his business. With those feelings warring in his gut, he had to admit his heart wasn’t in this design.
“You’re working really hard on that. Might be time to take a break. It’s not due for two days, right?” His father stood in the doorway.
Mason stretched. He hadn’t told his father that he had to make a quick trip back to Philadelphia yet. He guessed now was the time. “I need to get it done tonight because I have to head to Philly tomorrow.”
Kent’s disappointment was evident. “You do?”
“Just for the day. My boss wants me to go in and talk about the trade show that I’ll be working right after Christmas.”
“Oh. Well, I’m glad it’s just for the day. I really appreciate you helping me here more than I can say.”
“You’re very welcome. I’m happy to help, Dad.”
Mason glanced at the drawing on the table. He had to get this done before he left. Maybe more color and more trees? If he used the colored artificial Christmas trees instead of ones that look like real pine trees, it would really be different from Kristen’s, and he wouldn’t feel so much like he was taking the opportunity away from her. And heck, he might not even win.
“Your job is pretty demanding. Almost like it’s getting more stressful each year. So much travel. Maybe you should think about making a switch?” his father said. “You know, you’re not getting any younger. Might be time for you to settle down.”
“I’m paid pretty well for the stress, and what else what I do? I have to work somewhere,” Mason said.
“There’s always room for you here in the business and in the house.” Kent tried to act nonchalant.
Mason was surprised by the hopeful tone in his father’s voice. He hadn’t realized his father wanted him to move here that badly.
Visiting his dad had been nice, but living with him? No way! And small-town life… Well, it did have its appeal, but it was nothing like the hustle and bustle of city life. Though now that he thought about it, he didn’t really get to stay in the city too much since he was always traveling. And if he had to admit it to himself, over the past year, he had been thinking about settling down. Putting down roots. Maybe finding that special someone to spend the rest of his life with. That wasn’t going to happen when he was traveling every week.
“Maybe someday. But you’re right about one thing: I do need a break from this right now. You want to go to the pub for a beer with me?”
Kent smiled and nodded. “That would be great.”
Mason stood. He’d better take these nights at the pub with his dad and make the most of them, because he only had a few more weeks in Pinecone Falls before his travel schedule got hectic once again.
Chapter 20
The next morning, Kristen woke up bursting with ideas for the gingerbread-house contest. She hadn’t really paid much attention over the years, but the pictures her mother had shown her brought it all back. Her father had always had a fun decorating theme. One year, he’d paved the gingerbread-house roof with peppermint-swirled candies and had candy canes at the front door. Another year, he used colorful gumdrops as shrubs and roofing.
It was a beautiful, sunny morning, warm enough to melt the snow on the roof, and the runoff formed long, glittering icicles that hung down from the eaves. The sky was bright blue, and she even spied a bird or two in the trees. It was picture perfect.
As Kristen went to her car, she glanced across the street to see Mason standing in his driveway.
“Oh, hi. Good morning,” she chirped.
Mason looked surprised and a bit confused to see her there. “Hi. Nice day.”
Since Mason had signed up for the gingerbread-house-making contest too, Kristen figured it would be neighborly of her to offer him a ride.
