“I actually brought my daughter.”
The woman thrust Rachel out at arm’s length. “Well, frost me with icing and call me Cookie! This isn’t sweet little Rachel Joy, is it?”
“The very one,” Rachel said, recovering from the lung-crushing hug. She’d met Ruth, the owner, long ago, but the years between introductions had changed them both.
“Goodness! Look at you!” Ruth’s twinkling eyes suddenly shrouded behind her tortoiseshell frames. “Where did all that mousey-brown hair of yours go?” She pinched the tips of Rachel’s curled strands between her fingers.
“Same place her freckles and baby fat went. She’s all grown up,” Paula answered for her daughter.
“In fairness, I paid the hairdresser a pretty penny to make it this way.”
“Platinum blonde suits you, darling. You’re every bit the Sugar Plum princess your sweet granny always called you. Just gorgeous.”
Talking while walking, the woman guided Rachel and Paula toward two empty folding chairs at the edge of the circle. A bundle of deep evergreen yarn reserved the vacant places on each seat, along with several pre-cut strands of cranberry red. Many women were already happily crocheting, their hooks moving in and out of the threads in their hands while their mouths yapped and gossip traveled.
“Saved these spots just for you, dearies.”
“Thank you,” Paula acknowledged, finding her seat.
“We’re making some mistletoe bunches today!” Ruth clapped her hands together in front of her chest. She reached for a sample and passed it off. “Aren’t these just precious?”
Rachel couldn’t escape. Mistletoe madness accosted her at every turn.
“Honest,” Paula said in a hush as soon as Ruth left the two to their crafting. “I promise I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay, Mom. Mistletoe is an integral part of the holiday season. I get that.”
But so were candy canes, snowflakes, ornaments—all of which would have made for equally festive crocheting projects.
“This will be fun.” Picking up the hook and yarn, Rachel gifted her mother an assuring smile, even if the words were false.
“Are these seats taken?” Another mother-daughter duo came over, their faces familiar but names misplaced somewhere in Rachel’s lost memories of hometown acquaintances.
“They’re all yours,” Paula answered without looking up from her project. When she finally lifted her attention, she froze. “Oh, Jill. I didn’t realize it was you.”
“Hi, Paula.”
The greeting was obligatory, and Rachel noticed an apologetic half-smile form on the mouth of the daughter, as though she could also sense the tension that settled between the women like a sudden squall.
“I can sit somewhere else if it’s more comfortable for—”
“Nonsense.” Paula tapped the metal chair with her hook. “Please, sit. Join us.”
What had happened between these families? And why did Rachel have the sudden, sinking feeling that she was entirely to blame?
“I’m not sure if you remember my daughter, Rachel.” Paula pressed her hand to Rachel’s knee. “She’s in town for the tree lighting.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie. Rachel had returned home to help ensure their win, but coming face to face with the competition suddenly had her stomach tumbling like a washer filled with sodden clothes.
“And it’s going to be an utterly stunning tree this year. I have that on good authority,” Jill answered, likely referring to her own homegrown fir, but having the politeness necessary to keep from saying it outright. Something Rachel’s father didn’t possess. She waited to see if her own mother could show a similar amount of restraint.
“Yes, it is,” was all Paula replied, but the smug look she brandished when Rachel caught her eye conveyed all she needed to know.
The Christmas Competition was back in full swing, whether Rachel wished to be a part of it or not.
* * *
Rachel neededa drink of the caffeinated variety, pronto. She had declined a ride back to the house with her mom, opting instead to make the short walk to Bitter Cold Coffee Bar up the street. She required the fresh air to clear her head and ease the tightness from her chest. Who would’ve thought a day of knitting would have the ability to tangle her own stomach into knots too?
