Page 34 of Cottage on the Bay


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Lynda shook her head. “If we weren’t so busy, it would have been funny. Pastor John twisted Matt’s arm into playing Santa Claus for the Christmas parade.” Lynda laughed despite herself. “Matt tried every excuse imaginable—he’s too tall, too skinny, and he even said he’s terrible with children—but Pastor John wouldn’t budge.”

Susan grinned. “Matt will make a wonderful Santa.”

“He’s terrified,” Lynda said with a grin. He keeps practicing his ‘Ho, ho, ho’ in the shower. It sounds more like a strangled walrus than Father Christmas.”

The mental image made Susan laugh. It was a genuine, belly-deep laugh that felt like medicine after delivering the food parcels. Lynda joined in, and for several minutes they giggled together like schoolgirls.

When their laughter subsided, Lynda slid the artificial flowers back into her bag and consulted her clipboard. “We’re not far from the Torres family’s house.”

Susan nodded. Maria Torres was a student in her cooking class. Maria’s husband had lost his position at the mill a few months ago. When Susan realized how difficult it was for them to pay their bills, she’d put forward Maria’s name for the Santa’s Secret Helpers program.

As they made their way along Pinedale Place, Susan thought about the food parcel they’d prepared for the Torres family. There were extra portions of everything. Enough to last several days if stretched properly.

The Torres house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac. It only took Maria a minute or two to open the door after Susan had knocked.

“Susan and Lynda! This is a nice surprise.” Maria’s attempt at cheerfulness didn’t quite mask her embarrassment. “What brings you here?”

“A Secret Santa delivery,” Susan said matter-of-factly, handing over the large cardboard box. “There’s enough for your whole family.”

Maria’s lips trembled. “You didn’t have to do this. There are other people who need help more than we do. We’re managing fine.”

“Everyone needs help sometimes,” Lynda said firmly but kindly. “That’s what community means.”

Maria nodded, unable to speak. She accepted the box with both hands and whispered a hoarse thank you.

Susan forced a smile, hoping to lessen Maria’s embarrassment. “I sent your spaghetti Bolognaise recipe to everyone in the cooking class. Julie made it last night and raved about it.”

“I thought they’d like it. It’s a family favorite,” Maria said. “I’ll hunt through my other recipes and bring the best ones in next week.”

Lynda nodded. “That sounds great. See you on Thursday.”

When Susan and Lynda returned to the truck, Lynda said, “I know what you should do. Bring Paul with you for the next round of food deliveries.”

Susan opened the driver’s door and started the truck. “He’s really busy. I don’t know whether he’ll have enough time.”

Lynda clicked her seatbelt into place. “If he’s struggling with what Michelle told him, he needs to see this side of Sapphire Bay. When people are having a difficult time, showing up with a hot meal or a box of groceries means the world to them.”

Susan thought about what Lynda had suggested. She was right. Sometimes, Susan didn’t know who benefited the most from the donations. It felt good to give something back to the people who needed it the most. And even more when you knew how much of a difference it made in their lives.

“I’ll ask him when he gets back from Missoula,” Susan promised. “He might be able to come with me on a Sunday when the restaurant’s closed.”

The winter sun had begun its descent behind the mountains, painting the sky in shades of rose gold and lavender. Susan drove through the quiet streets of Sapphire Bay, thinking about Paul grieving three hours away, about Lynda’s stress-filled wedding preparations, about Matt’s upcoming debut as Santa Claus. But mostly, she thought about the families they’d visited who were trying to survive until their circumstances improved.

This was community. Not the polished version presented at charity galas or fundraising dinners, but the messy, honest, beautiful reality of people caring for each other in practical ways. Paul understood this through his restaurant. He fed people, created gathering spaces, and employed locals who needed work.

Bringing him with her on one of their deliveries would make him realize how much good he was doing in the community.

Susan stopped in front of Lynda’s clinic. Matt’s truck sat waiting in the parking area. Through the window, she could see him inside, probably reviewing charts or organizing supplies for tomorrow’s appointments.

“Thank you for coming with me today,” Susan said.

Lynda squeezed her arm. “I enjoyed every moment.” She grabbed her bag of artificial flowers and her clipboard. “Now go home, pour yourself a hot drink, and text that man of yours. Tell him you miss him and you have an idea for when he returns.”

“He’s not my man?—”

“Yet,” Lynda finished with a knowing smile. “Give it time.”

She climbed out of the truck and waved as she walked toward the clinic entrance. Matt appeared in the doorway, his face lighting up at the sight of Lynda. He held the door open for her, placed a gentle hand on her lower back, and Susan watched them disappear inside together. Against all odds, they’d found each other and were building something real.