The whole thing was confusing, upsetting, and not at all jolly.
She set the nutcracker down and threw her hands in the air. “He complained about wrapping gifts for children–who does that?” She reached for any excuse not to let the attraction claw out of the box.
Jacob stared at her as if she’d lost a stocking. “No one would be grumpy about wrapping presents?” he asked carefully.
“Exactly. No one with good sense or an ounce of Christmas cheer.” She stopped suddenly, remembering that she was supposed to talk Lizzie out of her Christmas wish. She’d been hoping to tempt her with a new best friend, what with them being move-ins and all, but her adorable niece Jenny took that option off the list.
Fruitcake!
“So, I’m confused.” Jacob stared at his phone. “Lauren via Valerie said sparks were flying–but you sound ticked off at the guy.” He looked up, expecting her to fill in the blank.
“He’s my complete Christmas opposite in every way.” She flicked her hand. Who happened to be raising a daughter with as much Christmas spirit as Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
Jacob watched her.
Charlotte made eye contact.
They stared in a battle of sibling proportions, each willing the other to look away first.
The bell over the door dinged, and Charlotte glanced over Jacob’s shoulder to see Maggie Diamonte and her crew come in. Her husband, Cash, had restored a family home that dated back to George Washington. Charlotte spent weeks researching period-appropriate decorations for her and even creating a few herself for a Christmas-themed cookbook they’d photographed at the house last season. She now sold the vintage line in her store and online and the book to go with it. “Merry Christmas!” She lifted a hand in greeting.
“Merry Christmas!” Maggie replied as she unwound her scarf and shed her gloves. “Mind if I look around before we go over my order?”
“Not at all,” Charlotte motioned to the store. “Take your time.”
With a customer within hearing distance, she gave her brother a warning look that said: The previous topic is off limits.
Jacob lifted his chin in acknowledgment. “What do you want for Christmas?”
“Peace on earth–goodwill toward men,” Charlotte gave her usual answer. She went to the back and came out with a box of Valerie’s Santa hat-shaped dog treats. They’d been a big hit last year, and she couldn’t keep them on the shelves this year. All the dog lovers in town wanted to stuff their pups’ stockings with the adorable treats, and the fact that Valerie made them by hand put demand through the roof.
Jacob leaned against the counter. “You are the hardest person in the world to shop for. Do you know that?”
“Me?” Charlotte pointed to her chest. “That’s ridiculous.”
Jacob sighed heavily.
“Alright, just get me the usual.” She hip-bumped him out of the way to refill the candy cane-scented lip balms.
Jacob scowled. “You’re still planning to remodel that dump?”
Just as Charlotte had asked Santa for the same house every year, she’d asked her family for gift cards to the home improvement store. She’d truly believed that Santa would grant her Christmas wish and had amassed quite a credit with the hardware store over the years.
“Well,” she stared slowly, “I’m planning on doing everything but the cabinets. After all, what good is having a brother for a cabinet maker if he can’t make my cabinets?”
Jacob ran his hand down his face, thinking. After a moment, he brightened. “Okay, a few things would be pretty cool.”
“Like?” she asked, hoping he’d catch onto her enthusiasm and then, in time, offer her a discount on his services. Maybe she should have asked him for a 20% off coupon for his company.
“Like this stained glass lighting piece at the second-hand shop would look amazing in an old dining room. I keep thinking it would look amazing over a farmhouse sink.” He rapped his knuckles on the countertop.
“You have my attention,” Charlotte conceded.
“A lighting fixture?” She wrinkled her nose. “Cabinets. Jacob. I need cabinets.” She glanced over at Maggie–maybe her husband could give her some pointers on restoration work–he was one of the few contractors in the nation certified to work on historical buildings like the White House or those preserved in Williamsburg, PA.
“Well, we could build the cabinets to showcase this piece. Besides, Ethan could wire it in like that.” He snapped his fingers.
Before he could explain more, Maggie approached them, her arms full of outdoor-grade juniper-bough decorations. “What do you think of these for the wraparound porch?”
