I nodded. “Well, me and my sister, Violet. She’s the one who spoke to you when you walked in.”
Violet heard me say her name and turned to look at us; Margaret waved at her and smiled. “You two have a wonderful place here. It’s so festive for Christmas.”
A laugh escaped my lips. “It’s our favorite time of year.”
Margaret nodded. “Mine too.” Her gaze roamed around the gallery and her eyes lit up. “Which is why I’m here. I want to buy a painting, but I’ve seen so many in here I love. I was hoping you could help me decide.”
My heart pitter-pattered in my chest. Talking about artwork was one of the top joys in my life.
“I would be thrilled to help you,” I offered. I pointed at the painting of the snowy Christmas cabin behind me. “As you know, this is one of my absolute favorites. The artist is local, as are all the artists of the other paintings here in the gallery. We have a lot of talented people here in Blowing Rock.”
We walked around the store, and I showed her my other favorite painting, which was one of downtown Blowing Rock in the fall. The trees were all shades of red, yellow, orange, and brown.
After I’d taken her through the entire place, I could tell she hadn’t fully made up her mind by the way her gaze flitted back and forth between the paintings.
“This is a hard choice,” Margaret said, narrowing her eyes in concentration. We stood in silence for a few seconds, and she sighed. “I need a cup of coffee before I can decide.” She grinned at me and nodded toward the door. “Want to grab some at the café down the street? I hear they have the best coffee in town.”
“That they do,” I agreed, excited to get another cup of one of Sarah’s specialty brews.
I could never get enough of her coffee. I looked over at Violet, and she had a look on her face that said if I was going down to Sarah’s Café, I better get her something. Margaret and I started for the door and Violet held out my purse to me, batting her eyelashes innocently.
“Want do you want me to get you?” I asked her.
Her eyes twinkled. “The crème brulee coffee. It’s like heaven in your mouth.”
Margaret giggled. “Sounds delicious. I might have to get that as well.”
“We’ll be right back,” I said, taking my purse.
It was a chilly December Monday morning, and the sidewalks were already filled with the hustle and bustle of people walking around and enjoying our cozy, small mountain town.
Margaret peered around at everything with a look of awe on her face. “The architecture of your building is exquisite. It had to be built in the early 1900s.”
“That’s right,” I said, glancing back at the gallery as we continued our way to the café. “The exterior is constructed of river field and stone from Grandfather Mountain. It used to be an apartment building a long time ago before my parents renovated it.”
Margaret seemed genuinely fascinated. “I love old architecture. There’s something magical about it, like there are stories hidden in the buildings somewhere.”
She reminded me of my grandmother in the way she spoke; I couldn’t stop from smiling. “As a kid, that’s what I used to imagine. Violet and I searched through every nook and cranny of the gallery to see if we could find some hidden treasure left behind by the people who lived there before. Sadly, we never found anything.”
Margaret shook her head and smiled. “You never know. This is an old town. There has to be some hidden treasure somewhere.”
I winked at her. “Maybe I’ll find it.”
Sarah’s Café was just at the end of the street on the corner. It was a cute little purple building with white shutters and a custom-made lending library box just outside the door that was made to look like a tiny cottage.
Margaret and I walked in, and all the tables were occupied except for one by the back window that overlooked the tranquil garden. I hadn’t been lucky enough to get that table in a long time.
“Good morning, Lydia,” Sarah greeted as we approached the register.
“Good morning,” I replied back.
Sarah was in her late fifties with long white hair, and she loved to dress in hippie-style clothing that showed off nature. I don’t think I’d ever seen her without a flower in her hair.
She introduced herself to Margaret and smiled. “What can I get you ladies?”
The aroma of coffee took over my senses, and I breathed it all in. Pastries and cakes were underneath glass cloches on the counter, and it took all my strength not to buy any of it.
“I’ll take two crème brulee coffees,” I said.
