Carlisle frowned at the accusation in her voice. How was the lack of an invitation to assist his fault?
“What’s troubling you, Grace?”
“Grammy’s having a party. Can we go, please?”
“What party is this?” Carlisle couldn’t remember anyone mentioning one last night.
“Alex said Grammy always has a party for the helpers.Wehelped too.”
Carlisle shifted uncomfortably. Since moving to Huckleberry Falls and befriending Alex, Grace had looked like the happy little girl she’d been before her mother’s death. Even though his daughter had been so young, she’d recognized that her mother was gone. For a long time after the accident, she’d sought out any female figure who’d even faintly resembled Cressy. Only over the last six months had his daughter finally stopped searching crowds of people, as though she expected to see her mother lurking there. Perhaps he should have volunteered further with the tree, if it made his daughter this happy.
“I imagine the party is for the people who helped to deliver the tree,” he said, choosing his words with care. “I’m not sure they’d appreciate a pair of freeloaders.”
Grace scowled at him at his word choice. “Grammy said me and Alex did good work. And you did some too, so the party is forus.”
“Alex and I,” Carlisle corrected. His grandfather would be most displeased if Grace picked up too much of the casual American grammar.
His daughter rolled her eyes at him but repeated what he’d said. She then added, “Please, Papa.”
“Let me send her a message to see if it’s even still going on. It could be over. I don’t wish to appear on her doorstep, assuming we have a right to be there.”
“You watch.” Grace crossed her arms, her pert face now smug. “I’m right.”
Carlisle pulled out his phone. His instincts were to phrase the question delicately, but the impatient tapping of his daughter’s foot made him send out a brief message instead.
Grace insists she helped with the tree, so she’s invited to your celebration.
Linda’s reply was almost immediate.
I’m so sorry. I would have invited you, but you said you were working.
He began a reply, but another message pinged.
It’s my employee Christmas party, but we always host it after the delivery of the festival tree. The little get-together begins at seven at my dress shop. Consider yourselves invited!
Carlisle glanced at his daughter and nodded. She let out a whoop and hugged his leg. He deleted his previous unfinished message and sent another.
May I bring anything?
Just your appetite.
“It looks as though you’ll be able to play with Alex again after all. Miss Linda said we needn’t bring anything, but I believe we should.” Carlisle rubbed his chin glancing up and down the street at the different businesses. He truly did need to get better acquainted with the community.
Then he noticed the shop across the street, Torta al Cioccolato. It belonged to the lady they’d made the scarecrows for. It seemed such a long time ago, and yet Merry had been on his mind a lot over those weeks. What was his brain trying to tell him about her?
“Papa?” Grace tugged at his hand. “We have to get something yummy.”
“How about some specialty chocolates?”
“Ooo, yes!” Her little head darted back and forth, searching.
Carlisle pointed to the shop.
“Oh, that’s where our scarecrows were. Alex told me.” Grace pushed out her bottom lip in a pout. “I wanted to see them there.”
Perhaps that was part of the reason his daughter had been so glum the whole time they’d been in New York.
“Well, perhaps the kind lady who owns the store has some photos. Let us see if she’s in today.”
