Sarah snickered. “Is one for Violet?”
I laughed. “Yep.”
Sarah reached over and grabbed her cook’s blowtorch. “She always likes extra sugar toppings.”
That didn’t surprise me.
“Might as well do mine the same way,” I replied.
Sarah turned to Margaret with her kind smile. “Do you know what you’d like?”
Margaret’s eyes twinkled. “I think I’ll have the crème brulee coffee with the extra sugar topping, as well.”
Sarah beamed. “Coming right up. Are you two going to hang out for a few?” I nodded and she smiled again. “Okay, I’ll make Violet’s right before you leave, so it’ll be nice and hot for her.”
“Perfect,” I said.
Once Sarah finished making our coffees, Margaret and I sat down at the small antique table at the back window. The sprig of mistletoe on her red sweater caught my attention.
“You’re very festive with the mistletoe. I have a Swarovski crystal snowman I like to wear if I go out on the town; it was a Christmas gift from my grandparents a few years ago.”
Margaret glanced down at the berries and grinned. “I don’t go anywhere without my mistletoe. History calls it magical. I like to believe it’s helped guide me down the right paths in life. I’ve always been told that with mistletoe and Christmas magic, anything’s possible.”
I took a sip of my coffee and chuckled. “I would love to believe that could happen.”
Margaret’s gaze dropped to my hand. “I don’t see a ring on your finger. I’m assuming you’re not married?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. Guess you can say I’m still waiting for that right someone. I haven’t been on a date in two years.”
“Why not?” she asked, her brows furrowed curiously.
A heavy sigh escaped my lips. “Because I kept myself too busy with the gallery. I don’t blame anyone but myself that I’m alone.” I looked down at my coffee and inwardly groaned. “I don’t even know if I know how to date,” I confessed, meeting her warm brown gaze. “Maybe my expectations are too high. The last guy I went on a date with only talked about himself. Is that normal?”
Margaret giggled. “Some men are like that, but the good ones are not. The right guy is out there. You just have to open your eyes and find him, really see who’s around you.”
I took another sip of my coffee. “What about you? Are you married?”
Her smile saddened, but there was nothing but joy on her face. “I was. I loved him with all my heart and still do. I see him every night in my dreams.”
I assumed that meant he was no longer living, but I didn’t want to ask; it was too personal.
“Do you think I’ll find that right guy someday?” I questioned, hoping to break the sadness in the air.
I breathed easier when Margaret’s grin widened. “I know you will, Lydia. And who knows? You might already have.”
That was highly doubtful, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to stay positive; it was Christmas time, after all.
We finished our coffees, and I grabbed Violet’s before we walked out into the chilly morning air back to the gallery.
“Do you need me to tell you any more about the paintings to help you decide which one to get?” I asked Margaret.
She shook her head and laughed. “No. I know what I want.”
I loved it when people other than myself admired the artwork in my gallery.
“Oh yeah?” I replied happily as I opened the door. “Which one?”
Margaret stepped inside and held up two fingers. “Which two,” she corrected. “I want the snowy cabin and theFall Time in Blowing Rock.”
