“I am so sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday. I feel like such a bad best friend,” she said, hugging me tightly.
I embraced her back and let go. “It’s fine. You were busy. I took a quick walk around town and then went home to heat up some soup.”
Hailey’s face was so excited when she looked at me. “There are more crowds than there were last year. Even though we had a minor slump in March, the store is still in the plus. Now, with the Christmas sales, we will be even more ahead.”
“Same,” I replied. “It makes me happy.”
“You guys!” Violet shouted as she barreled through the door. She held up a plastic bag and ran over to the Christmas village. “I got it! The Griswold Christmas house is ours!”
I had never seen her open a box so fast in my life. She placed the Griswold house into the empty spot in the village andplugged it in; it was brighter than all the other houses, which was perfect since it was just like that in the movie.
“I love it, Vi,” I told her. “Mom and Dad will get a kick out of it when they come in today.”
“Yes, they will,” Hailey called out, her lips pouty when she looked at me. “Your store is so pretty. I’m a little jealous. Oliver would have a heart attack if I tried to decorate our store like this.”
That made me laugh. “Guys just don’t understand.”
Hailey giggled. “No, they don’t.” The front door opened and I heard Violet greet the customer. Hailey squeezed my arm and sighed. “I’m going to go. Oliver’s manning the store right now, but we both know I make all the sales.”
I snorted. “That’s because no one can say no to you. You’re an excellent saleswoman.”
She shrugged. “That’s because I love the products we have in our store.” She bumped me with her elbow. “Speaking of our stuff, are you going to hike with me and Oliver more next summer?”
It took all I had to hold in my groan. “I’ll try,” I said in all honesty. “My problem is that I don’t like being the third wheel.”
By the look on Hailey’s face, she wanted to argue but understood my reasoning. “Who knows, maybe you’ll be with someone by then.”
“I could,” I agreed, smiling hopefully. “We will see.”
Hailey hugged me quickly and started for the door, waving her hand in the air. “I’m gone now! Have a good day, ladies!”
“You too,” I called out.
I grabbed the duster from the storage room and brushed it gently over the sculptures and paintings as I walked through the gallery; it was something I did every morning.
“Now that is a beautiful piece,” a voice said from behind.
I turned around to see the lady who had come in a few minutes ago. She was dressed in a red sweater and black pants, and a sprig of mistletoe was pinned to the left side of her chest.
Her brown curls hit right above her shoulders, and she looked to be in her midfifties. There was a glow about her as she looked at the painting behind me. It was of the snowy mountains and a cabin decorated from top to bottom with Christmas lights.
The lady nodded at the painting, her brown eyes never wavering from it. “Wouldn’t you just love to live in a place like that?”
I did.
I couldn’t begin to describe how amazing it felt to go home every night to such a wonderful place.
“I do, actually. It’s not the exact replica of my home, but it’s close. The artist changes it up every year.” I skimmed a finger gently over the front door of the cabin where the artist had painted a wreath with lights that looked as if they were really lit up. “The artist used to love how my grandmother decorated her cabin for the holidays. Every year, he paints a new version, and we put it here in the gallery to sell. When my grandfather died, my grandmother didn’t want to be there alone, so she sold it to me.”
The lady’s brown gaze met mine and she smiled sadly. “I’m sorry about your grandfather. I bet you have a lot of memories in that home.”
“Way too many to count,” I said. “Some of the best times in my life were spent in that place.”
The lady held out her hand. “I’m Margaret Grant, by the way. It’s nice to meet you. Sometimes I get carried away with talking and forget to introduce myself.”
Laughing, I shook her hand. “Lydia Scott. And I’m the same way.”
Margaret waved a hand around the gallery. “I take it you’re the owner?”
