“I don’t know. I get a good vibe from him. I think I’ll probably like his better.”
“You get a vibe from him? You don’t even know him.”
“No, but it’s his aura. He’s like a cool, young grandpa.”
“And that means he makes good peppermint bark?”
“I think so. What about you?”
“The eggnog latte.” I sip my drink, and swallow hard.
“Why?
“My dad makes eggnog French toast every year for Christmas dinner, and it’s one of my favorite things.”
“Breakfast for dinner?”
“It’s tradition.”
“Sounds like a good one.”
“The best.” My voice drifts off, my heart aching for my family. I’d give anything to see them again. To hear about my dad’s latest prank. To be able to hug my mom and sister. But I can’t even call them.
“Maybe I’ll get to try it sometime,” he says.
“You know you have to be a fan of Christmas to try it,” I tease. “It’s a prerequisite for getting invited.”
“Dang.” He chuckles.“Any non-holiday traditions I could try?”
“No, I’m from a family that’s obsessed with every holiday there ever was. I’m talking matching Halloween costumes,those turkey-shaped hats, and Christmas sweaters that make the one you’re wearing look like child’s play.”
“Ugh, sounds like I’d hate it.”
“I don’t know—you keep surprising me. Maybe you’d be surprised to find that you actually love it.”
“Maybe.”
Silence falls between us as our laughter fades, and I try to organize my thoughts as we make it to the door of the book shop.
Everett pulls the door open. Placing his hand on the small of my back, he leads me inside the well-lit space.
To the right, and taking up half the store, is a section for adults full of various genres of books— the largest appearing to be romance. On the back wall to the left are shelves covered in puzzles and games. A square wooden table is situated in front with pieces scattered across the top. In the front left is a children’s section. The shelves are lined with books and small stuffed animals of all kinds. Homemade paper garland and stars hang from the ceiling.
“Welcome,” Ginger says, greeting us. She’s dressed in a blue sweater decorated with a family of friendly looking snowmen on the front. On her head sits a headband that resembles colorful Christmas lights. It flashes on and off.
“Hi,” I say.
“Can I help you find something?” she asks.
“We’re not sure,” Everett says. “Thought we’d just look around?—”
“Oh my! Would you look at that?” Ginger says, pointing out the window to the sidewalk outside her shop.
Chip and Lolly are stopped. Her hands are on her hips and his are crossed over his chest. She looks like she may be yelling, but it’s hard to tell because we can’t hear them.
“Don’t you think they would make the cutest couple?” Ginger asks.
“Huh?” Everett questions.
