“Right. Sure enough. Thank you, honey.” Mrs. Lovett peeked in the bag and then clasped it to her chest as if it were a secret treasure. “Whew. Did your mama make these? She makes the very best scones.”
“Yes, ma’am, she did. They’re cinnamon vanilla with an orange glaze.”
She nodded once, put a finger to her lips, and then opened a cabinet, setting the scone-filled bag inside, with what looked like Tupperware behind it.
“I can’t have all these boys eating my treats. I’m out numbered, ya see? I’ll never have a chance.”
Georgia held back a giggle and made as if locking her lips.
Mrs. Lovett tilted her head to the door. “Alright, enough dilly-dallying, get out there.”
Looking for another minute–delaying the inevitable–Georgia glanced around the beautifully lit kitchen. “You know,” she said quietly, “it smells amazing in here. You need help with anything?”
Mrs. Lovett shook her head, exasperated with her guest, and said louder than they’d previously been speaking, “Lakeland, you have someone here to see you,” and then promptly shooed Georgia onto the porch like nothing more than a pesky child.
Lakeland jumped from the seat he’d been resting in. Completely at home and completely delicious, he wore a pair of black sweatpants and a University of Georgia sweatshirt. His hair was unfinished and perfect. His eyes scanned Georgia up and down. As if he couldn’t believe she was standing there.
Georgia smiled shyly then noticed Pastor Lovett sitting in a seat just beyond where Lake had come from, a large plaid blanket draped across his legs. She hadn’t noticed before how frail he’d begun to look. How gaunt and worn down.
“Oh, hey, Pastor Lovett. I just came to bring y’all some baked goods from the shop.” She twisted a piece of hair and released it again. “Just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas from our family to yours.”
Pastor Lovett smiled, a tired look in his eyes. “That’s real sweet, Georgia.” He gathered his blanket up and stood, using the armrest to lift himself, then placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Good luck, kid.”
He winked at an embarrassed Georgia but placed his hand on her shoulder, too, as he passed, giving it a little squeeze before slowly leaving her and Lake alone in the room together.
“Hi.” She looked down at the floor.
“Hi. So, you found me.”
She looked up, barely. “Were you hiding? You live with your parents.”
“Itemporarilylive with my parents… by choice.”
“Sure. Sure,” Georgia nodded and let the sarcasm drip in her nonchalance.
“Mom got a curious call from Debra Wilson about an hour ago. She spun the craziest story about how you were looking for information on our whereabouts. Naturally, she sent you to Mrs. Crawley who would’ve raised Cain if Mrs. Wilson hadn’t included her in your little mission. But we never heard from her, so I’m thinking you were clever and called one of the girls. Which one? Dana?”
Heat rushed to Georgia’s cheeks. “Caty.”
“Hmmm. Caty. The youngest, right? Super chatty, that one. I’m sure she called Ginny immediately after. You’ve got that to look forward to. So, how many people did you have to confess your undying attraction to me to before tracking me down, Georgia Snow?”
Georgia stood up straighter, indignant. “Ya know what? Your mama has those scones inside, and I sincerely hope you don’t choke on them… I mean… “ She stepped back. “Ugh. Shoot… I wasn’t supposed to tell…”
“She hid them, didn’t she?” Lake said, a smile in his voice.
She tightened her lips, unwilling to give up in a show of solidarity for women everywhere. This Lovett man would not break her.
“Tupperware cabinet above the coffee maker. She’s been doing that for years. Thinks we don’t know. Sometimes she hides cookies in the laundry room, like we’ll never go in there in the first place.”
She nodded reluctantly, smiling and unable to take her eyes off him.
“So, you came here.” Lake took a step towards her.
“Obviously,” she said, only slightly disgruntled with this impossible small town.
“And you got my gift?”
She bit her lip. “Peaches and peanuts. Yes, I did.”
