The store is calledMiracle on Main Street, which makes sense because the shop window looks like Christmas threw up all over it.
I know with absolute certainty that Belle will beg to go inside.
It’s ridiculous—it’s only October. Apparently, the town is famous for its Christmas celebrations, which may explain this fetish for holiday decor. It may explain it, but it doesn’t excuse it.
The sight of all that Christmas makes me think of mistletoe, which makes me think of Poppy and the devastating kiss we shared in her hotel room.
I managed to stop us at just kissing.Barely.Though it was hard.Literally.
There was just something about her. It wasn’t only her freckles and red hair. Her sparkling green-gold eyes. It was more than that. It was the way she dared me to laugh and got me to smile. It was her sweetness with Belle. She radiated…goodness and positivity. Traits that are rare in the world I normally inhabit.
“Look at all the angels! And Rudolph!” Belle cries. “May we go in? Pleeeeasssse?”
Belle puts her hand in mine and pulls me into the shop before I can answer. Not that I would say no. I haven’t seen her this excited since Poppy taught her to draw flowers. Belle rarely asks for anything. She stays in the background, assessing the mood of the surrounding adults before making any move, so I’m glad she’s comfortable enough to ask for what she wants. It warms me more than the inviting glow of the shop on this crisp day.
The inside is just as over the top in seasonal decorations as the outside, but instead of selling only Christmas decor, it’s cluttered with nostalgic toys, books, art supplies, gifts, stationery, and the classic sweets I remember from my childhood.
Basically, it’s a lot. My senses on overload, I want to run for the exit, but Belle is in heaven.
“Maybe they sell those sparkly pens like Poppy had?”
“Let’s see.”
Her wide smile is my reward for being forced to listen to Christmas music.
Christmas music. In October. It’s an assault on the senses.
Belle stops in front of a colorful display of watercolor sets, gazing at them as if they’re sweets in a candy shop.
“Can I help you? It looks like we have a young artist here.”
I turn and see Poppy’s friend, the one I met at the wedding, smiling down at Belle.
I adjust the brim of my ball cap. She looks up at me, and her eyes widen in recognition. She seemed cool at the wedding, but after years of being famous, I’ve learned that you can never tell about people.
My fears prove unwarranted. Her surprised expression turns into a wide, welcoming smile, but there’s no fangirl glaze in her eyes. “Nice to see you again.” She turns her attention to Belle. “You look like a girl who knows her own mind. What are you in the mood for? Markers? A painting set? Colored pencils? Pastels?”
Belle scrunches up her forehead and twists her mouth to one side in intense concentration. “Yes, please,” she breathes.
I laugh, shaking my head. “She was asking you to choose one thing, Belle.”
“I can’t choose. They’re all perfect,” she says, touching a set of small potted paints with reverence.
I nod to the shopkeeper. “We’ll take one of everything.”
Sadie points to several tall shelves. “But there are more than a dozen different sets.”
“Give us an assortment.” I know I’m spoiling Belle, but she’s had a hard time. I figure she’s due for a little spoiling. And I want to keep that smile on her face for as long as I can.
“You don’t need to do what he says. I don’t needthatmany things,” Belle says to Sadie.
Sadie grins down at her conspiratorially. “But I do need to do what he says! Because I might need him to rescue me from bad guys, and if I annoy him, maybe he won’t. And then where would I be?”
“Oh, he’d always rescue you,” Belle says with earnest, wide eyes. “He rescues everybody.”
I lay a hand on her shoulder, careful not to mess up her French braid. That simple style took twenty minutes to get right this morning.
Every morning, I get a little better at doing her hair, but it’s deceptively hard. ForThe Wanderers, it’s in my contract that I have to keep my hair shoulder-length, so I know how to do a simple ponytail or man bun.
