There was just something about her that drew me to her, and I was done trying to deny it.
On Monday, I was having a little meeting with Bill McClure to take care of her dad’s debt, and then Belle would be free from the worry that she had to run herself into the ground to fix everything.
I wouldn’t let her crush herself under someone else’s mess.
I stopped by my mom’s place before heading to the bakery.Yesterday she had stopped at the clubhouse with forty pounds of cookies and desserts from Cookie Haven.
The guys had devoured everything, and there had been just a few cookies left this morning.
Her house looked like Christmas had thrown up on it in the best possible way.Lights blinked along the roofline.A wreath the size of a small tire hung on the door.Inflatable reindeer guarded the lawn like they meant business.
I knocked once before letting myself in.
“Saint?”she called from the kitchen.“Is that you?”
“It’s sure not Santa Claus,” I said.
She laughed and appeared in the doorway as she wiped her hands on her apron.“I didn’t expect you so soon.”
“Wanted to make sure you were ready,” I said.Something told me this gingerbread house was not going to be some small shack.“You making something?”
“I’m ready, and I was making some cornflake wreaths.Want to help?Just don’t break my mixer like you did two years ago.”
“It was already on its way out.”
“Lies,” she said fondly.
I leaned against the counter and watched her work.This was where I got my patience from.My steadiness.My ability to sit with something until it was done right.
“You on the way to pick up the gingerbread house?”she asked casually.
“Yeah.”
She smiled, soft and knowing.“I’m excited to see it.Make sure you say hi to Belle for me.”She plopped a blob of green marshmallow-covered cornflakes on the wax paper.“She was so nice to me yesterday.”
“You wanna tell me why you suddenly decided to go to Cookie Haven yesterday?”
She shrugged and shaped the cornflakes to look like a wreath, and then put a few cinnamon candies on.“I just wanted to see the bakery during the holiday time.Barb was telling me about it the other day, and I wanted to see it for myself.”She glanced up at me.“Belle sure is nice.”
That was the second time she had said she was nice.“You trying to say something, Mom?”
She laughed lightly.“Just that Belle is very nice.”
“And?”
She paused.“And maybe the two of you could get to know each other.She’s so talented, pretty, and—”
“Nice,” I finished.
Mom nodded.“You noticed, too?”
I shook my head and chuckled.“I noticed all three of those things, Mom, among other things.”
“What things?”she asked.
“I think she needs some help.”
She eyed me closely.“Like you and your friends can help with?”
