“I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?” she practiced in the mirror. Perfect. “Let’s get this wagon moving,” she called as she made her way to the front door, where Mom and Dad whispered fast and furious.
They stopped when they heard her voice, and she was confident that she’d been the topic of conversation.
Dad opened his arms for a hug. “Where’s this amazing boyfriend you’ve been bragging about for three months?”
Three months of bragging after six months of semi-dating. Dating in the big city had its own set of challenges, and she’d had a learning curve that sometimes left her feeling battered. She’d only brought Foster up to her parents after she was sure he’d stick around.
“He’s in the guest room–building his incredible career.” She hugged her father, noting the scent of Old Spice and cinnamon. Nothing spoke of safety and comfort like that smell. “I’ll introduce you when we get back.”
Dad narrowed his eyes. “He’s not going to steal my tools, is he?”
Lauren rolled her eyes as she swung open the door. “He has no interest in your tools, Dad.”
She marched out the door and picked up the wagon’s handle. Foster’s lack of ability with even a screwdriver was the one chink in his otherwise shiny armor. He didn’t believe in knowing how to repair a toilet or replace so much as a light switch plate. That’s what superintendents, maintenance works, and other laborers did, and Jacob thought their work was beneath him and his advanced degrees.
Lauren disagreed. She’d even snuck into his apartment and changed lightbulbs when he worked late because the flickering gave her a headache, and Jacob refused to climb on a chair and do it himself.
What did he need to be handy for when she was more than capable? She didn’t need a man to do the small things. She didn’t need a man at all–right? And yet she wanted one.
Coming back to Moose Hollow with an up-and-coming mover-and-shaker, a man whose name would be in Forbes, Fortune, and The Economist, was a coup, and she was darn proud of herself for pulling it off.
Not that she was in love with Jacob because of his job, apartment in a high-class building, or his luxury car. No way! There were so many wonderful things about Jacob that she had a hard time listing them.
“You coming?” called Dad from the bottom of the driveway. He and Mom had started off while Lauren stood at the door, wagon handle in hand.
She jogged to catch up to them.
“Do you want to change your shoes?” Mom frowned at the fancy footwear.
“Nope. I’m good.” Lauren schooled herself for falling back into the small-town speech patterns she’d worked so hard to change. “I mean: I’m fine.” When she met their neighbors this year, she would do so in her designer shoes–no matter how little they protected her against the cold. Who needed to feel her toes on Christmas, anyway?
She put a sway in her hips as they passed the Morris house, just in case someone was watching out the window.
CHAPTER2
Jacob stood at the window and watched Lauren Hall sashay her way down the street in a horrible pair of shoes.
She looked terrific, but he’d thought she was stunning with bed head and wearing sweats, so what did he know?
He knew the guy she was with was a polished, posh, stuck-up pretender with a god complex. Jacob had played against enough guys like him on the football field to spot the false bravado a hundred yards away.
He was all wrong for Lauren.
“Honey? Come eat.” Mom called from the kitchen, where she garnished the egg casserole with enough cheese to clog an artery. “We have to hurry, or we won’t make it in time to count ballots.”
This was their first Christmas without Dad, and it was a doozy. His brother and two sisters couldn’t handle the holiday without him and had booked a cruise. As if a tan and tropical drinks could make the feeling that Christmas was all wrong–right. It didn’t work that way.
He’d stayed home, telling everyone he was keeping Mom company when the truth was he couldn’t stand the idea of not being here. He wanted his dad close, and the best way to make that happen was to be surrounded by things he’d touched. Pulling out the Christmas decorations was a trip down Memory Lane–every ornament a reminder of the joy and laughter he had this time of year.
It was good. Healing. Beautifully tearful at times. But good.
“I’m coming.” He lived across town in a cottage house he’d bought, gutted, and remodeled in a modern farmhouse style that showcased his woodworking abilities. Most cabinet makers joked that their house was the last one to have an upgrade. Not his place. His home was his showroom.
“Smells good.” He sniffed the bacon and egg scent that made his stomach rumble. “Did you say something about counting ballots?”
Mom nodded. “I promised the mayor you would count the ballots while I helped with the senior’s luncheon.”
“Wow. I’m a nice guy to jump in and help out like that,” he teased her. So far, she’d signed him up to hand out programs at the high school choir concert, usher for the elementary school pageant, and dish out doughnuts at the Christmas Eve devotional. “Especially after Ms. Pauline tried to kill me at the taste test earlier this week.” He rubbed his stomach as if it still ached.
