* * *
The driveto Cater is about a good solid half hour with the roads icy as they are. Missy volunteered to drive out with Tanner, and I got stuck with Chatty Cathy who doesn’t seem to come with a shut-off switch to save my sanity. I hear all about the trials and temptations as her reign of Miss Corn Shucker three years in a row. It turns out, Sabrina spent some time in the national beauty pageant circuit as well and is considering opening a boutique that caters to young girls who might be looking into that profession. I don’t have the heart to tell her it’s probably more of a hobby than it is a profession, and that Gingerbread isn’t exactly brimming with beauty pageants, save for the one. But I’m not here to burst anyone’s bubble. Tanner distributed all the bad news one can handle on a Monday, and I don’t plan on adding to anyone’s misery.
We come upon the factory, and my stomach drops at the dismal scene. Coming here as a kid, it looked towering and strong, all steel and might—and here it looks woefully small, all rust and fatigue. The paint is peeling away from the side of the building, and the sign that once boastedHome of Holiday Piessits crooked and faded as a memory.
“Geez,” I say under my breath as I glide into the parking spot next to Tanner’s. I can’t remember when I was here last. For as seldom as I’ve visited Gingerbread, I sure as heck didn’t bother to make the trek out to this old place. In my mind, Tanner had it handled. He seemed to be on top of everything—and, come to find out, the weight of it all has all but collapsed on top of him.
We get out and follow Tanner in through the giant delivery door opened in the back with Missy next to him and Sabrina bouncing dutifully by my side. It almost feels as if we’ve paired off, as if we were couples, and I shake that thought right out of my head. Missy wouldn’t be interested in Tanner that way, would she? Nope. Missy is playful and cheery, and Tanner is as serious as an unemployment slip, about as cheery as a root canal.
Sabrina takes ahold of my hand just as Missy turns back and catches the action. That partial grin on her face glides right off before she freely glides in a little closer to my brother. A ripe anger rips through me at the sight. She’s not serious, is she? She can’t be. This entire day is a bad mind warp. A baddreamthat I wouldn’t mind waking up from.
We step past the tired office that doubles as an employee lounge and into the factory proper. This has always been my favorite part of the facility, the inner workings, where rows and rows of pies descend with elegance on the conveyer belts. I step in deep and take in a lungful of air, just waiting to inhale those warm spices I used to live for and—nothing.
“Where’s the fresh smell?” I pause, carefully detangling my hand from Sabrina’s. I take a few more steps into the factory and note the machines and pulleys all still humming away as if they were right where I left them. Several employees with hairnets supervise the pies as they drop from the conveyer belts and quickly box them, but there’s not one hint of holiday cheer in the air.
“What smell?” Tanner looks miffed as he leads us to the start of operations into the room that houses the fresh apples, cooked pumpkins, and squash.
“You know, the scent, the pumpkin spice that used to knock us off our feet when we were kids.”
Tanner scoffs over at me. “Exactly how long has it been since you’ve been here? Never mind. I think I have a pretty good idea.” He looks to Missy and nods. “I had to switch out the spices we used years ago. It was a cost factor.”
“Oh, I get it.” Missy nods my way. Those eager violet eyes have a touch of sadness in them. “The cost of our ingredients alone is enough to make me want to pass out. That’s why I hate giving our food away for free.” She casually shoots a look of disdain to Sabrina.
“Please”—Sabrina scoffs almost as proficiently as my brother just did—“I’m doing you a favor by hosting all my club meetings at the bakery. Just think how all those women who would have never set foot in that carb factory now have somewhere to purchase all their bakery needs.”
Missy scowls my way. “Funny how nary a need has arisen. I’m betting they don’t pack a bag of snickerdoodles before they head off to spin class. Not that I have anything against being fit. I myself jog three miles a day when it’s not an ankle breaking winter.” She turns to me. “Noel will love me in the spring.”
“She will.” I grin. “And I’ll make sure she writes from New York to tell you so.”
“Ha!” Missy is quick to laugh in my face. But our eyes latch onto one another for a moment, and for the life of me I can’t seem to look away. My heart beats a little faster, and her expression grows serious. If I were to guess, there is something palpable happening here, an attraction that I don’t think either one of us can deny. My breathing picks up, and it’s as if I’m seeing Missy for the very first time, with new eyes, a new heart.
Tanner gives a solemn applause. “Is the show over? Because I’m ready to start the tour now.”
And he does just that. Tanner takes us through each depressing play-by-play of what used to be the happiest place on earth. Now it looks as if the factory is conducting its own funeral, each whir of the tired motors penning its own pathetic eulogy. You can’t go ten steps without feeling the despair this place emits like a foul odor. The tour wraps up, and both Missy and Sabrina are offered a piece of fresh baked pumpkin pie—in which Missy indulges. Sabrina just stares at it with disgust as if it were growing limbs in front of her eyes.
Tanner nods me to the side as his features harden, and I’m almost afraid to follow him. If he has a few rough words to share with me, most likely I deserve them.
“Well, golden boy? What’s your big solution for this money pit? You got a brainstorm brewing in that million dollar head of yours? Because if you do, everyone in here needs to hear it right about now.”
I sink back on my heels as I examine the place with a heavy heart. “Yeah, I’ve got an idea. Go with plan A. Shut the place down after Christmas. This place is a financial mortuary.”
Tanner gives a slow blink as if relieved I finally got the message. Losing this place will be a hard pill to swallow, especially for my mother, but it doesn’t seem possible to pull it from the edge. Nope. This place went over the side years ago. A decline like this doesn’t happen overnight.
Missy looks my way, her lips quivering as if she might cry, and part of me wants nothing more than to comfort her—for her to comfort me.
And then, just like that, she gives Sabrina a shove in my direction, and I can’t help but think Monday just got a little worse. It’s not quite Sabrina that’s bringing me down, as it is the fact Missy is so determined to prove the two of us are a fit.
I’m not a fit with Sabrina Jarrett and her high-heeled mile a minute self-indulgent monologues. Sabrina wraps her arms around me and purrs at least a half dozen indecent things in my ear while Missy bites down on her lip.
Tanner goes over and they strike up a conversation of their own, and she laughs at whatever it is he just told her. And oddly the happier Missy gets, the more she glows in my brother’s presence—the angrier I get, and the more I glower next to Sabrina.
I’m not sure what’s happening anymore, what’s up and what’s down, who I should see and who I should stay away from.
Sabrina tucks a kiss just under my ear, and Missy glances this way in time to see it, her entire face burning like a bright red bow.
Is that a smidge of jealousy I detect?
And just like that, my spirit soars as I drink down the prospect.
There might just be a bright light at the end of this dismal visit, and her name is Mistletoe Winters.
