And I finally got a break. Max had just added a pair of donkeys to his sanctuary, rescued from a bad situation. They were going to need a lot of care and attention, but were already showing personalities that had us laughing at Max’s tales and asking him lots of questions.
No one seemed to notice I was quiet, which suited me fine. Just adding a comment here and there was enough to keep theconversation turned away from me, and I was grateful for it. Everyone else was chatting and laughing, and I was able to slip out as soon as possible and head home, my shame disguised successfully. Having a reputation for being the quiet kid paid off sometimes.
Huddling in my house with a pint of ice cream and a crumpled ball of tissues got old very fast, and when I finally got up with a deep sigh to wash my face and go to bed, I stopped to stare at myself in the bathroom mirror.
Okay, I’d had my moment. I’d wallowed enough to satisfy anyone’s sense of right and wrong. But that wasn’t helping anymore. The more I thought about it, the more I believed that Ella was right. I needed to stand up for myself. If not for me, then for the legacy I’d taken on.
My livelihood and my grandmother’s bakery were worth fighting for.
Besides, tomorrow would be Monday and the tourists would be mostly gone. It would be just locals, and the locals loved their bakery. We’d just see how Connor MacDowell fared against that.
Everything would be back to normal in no time.
14
The next day, I was bundled up against the biting morning wind as I made my way back to the bakery. Of course, trepidation had me keeping my head down, despite my reassurances to myself the night before. I didn’t want to know if I was wrong. Maybe Jingle Junction had abandoned me and my business for the new shiny attraction that was The Sweet Shoppe.
I’d just delivered a fresh batch of several types of muffins to my sister, Star, at her bed-and-breakfast, and enjoyed a short chat and a warm hug before leaving. Her popular inn was at the end of the same street as my bakery, and she’d been buying bagels, muffins, and other goodies from me since the first day she’d owned the place. I’d taken comfort from her embrace, and buoyed by her love and kindness, I squared myself for what was to come.
I was a Bell, and I would be all right.
My breath formed little clouds in the frigid air as I walked briskly, eager to get back to the warmth of my bakery. The streets of Jingle Junction were fairly quiet, with just a few peoplecoming and going from cars and shops, and the festival lights were still twinkling, despite the chill.
As I got close to the art gallery, I spotted two familiar figures up ahead. Deke, my dear friend, was carrying a large paper-wrapped package and grinning from ear to ear. Beside him was my mom, Marigold, wrapped in an oversized puffy coat and wearing a flowing multicolored skirt that fluttered around her fuzzy boots. Her bright, free-spirited aura seemed to defy the cold that bit through my coat and made me shiver.
“Deke! Mom!” I called out, waving as I approached.
They turned to me, their smiles widening.
“Hey, Ivy!” Deke exclaimed. “Give me some sugar!”
I laughed and gave him a peck on the cheek. “What are you two doing, out walking around like this?”
Deke’s grin was so big, I was afraid his face would split in two. “Look what I’m taking to Connor MacDowell! It’s the plate I showed you, the one with the leaves!”
“Hey, sweetheart,” Marigold added, her eyes twinkling as she hugged me. “Isn’t it wonderful? Deke sold his latest creation to a new friend.”
I raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Connor MacDowell? The owner of The Sweet Shoppe?”
The gut wrench was epic, I admit it.
Deke nodded enthusiastically, holding up the package with pride. “Yes! I made this platter, and Connor came to the art gallery, and he bought it, and he says he loves it.”
I blinked, trying to process this new information. “You met Connor at the art gallery?”
Marigold nodded, her colorful earrings dancing with the movement. “Yes, darling. Connor was browsing the gallery, just looking at some pieces and doing a bit of exploring. When he saw Deke’s platter, he was really impressed. He bought it, and then when Deke walked in, Connor got to meet the artist himself.”She smiled as she put her arm around Deke’s shoulders. “They struck up a conversation, and when Connor found out that Deke was the one who had made the platter, he invited him to deliver it in person.”
“Yeah! Connor said I could get a treat from the candy shop when I bring the platter,” Deke added, his smile growing even wider. “He says my plate will display candy in it. Isn’t that great?” He patted my mother’s arm. “And tonight, Marigold is taking me to see a movie at the theater.” He looked puzzled for a moment. “What’s it called?”
“Shrek, dear,” she said with a smile. “I’ve seen it before, but I think you’ll like it.” She glanced over at me. “They’re doing a special showing, re-releasing it for a few theaters.”
“Hey, maybe Connor wants to go to the movies, too!” Deke said, his eyes lighting up. “I can ask him!”
I felt a mix of emotions—pleased for Deke, curiosity about what had happened with Connor in the art gallery, and a definite irritation at the thought of Connor interacting directly with Mom and Deke. The idea of that cranky man eating popcorn and watching a movie with Deke was almost too much to take.
Myfamily,myfriend.
Maybe it was weird to be so protective about the people I cared about, or maybe I still wasn’t sure if Connor being in Deke’s life was a good thing or not. My family had pretty much adopted Deke as one of our clan, and anyone who messed with him messed with all of the rest of us.
