Warm, sugar- and cinnamon-scented air envelopes me the moment I step inside the café. I’ve been to coffee shops and bakeries all over the world, but I’ve never found one that has the special kind of charm and magic Sweet Escapes does. If I wasn’t already attached to several of the people in town, I’d come back to Honeywell just for a Sweet Escapes fix.
“You have that look,” Fiona says, stepping into my line of sight and holding her arms out for a hug. “This place is something special, isn’t it? I always thought if I hadn’t decided to travel the world I’d be happy working here.”
As she moves on to hug Liam, I spot Nathan a few feet away, rolling his eyes. When he sees me watching him, he winces. “Habit,” he murmurs, moving forward to give me a quick hug.
“I love it here,” I tell Fiona. “Your mom has created true magic in this place.”
“I’m glad you see that too,” she says. “Speaking of Mum, she asked for you boys to assist her in the kitchen when you arrived. Joss, she wondered if you’d help me get the tables set up. Doors open to ticket holders in half an hour.”
Nathan practically races in the direction of the kitchen. Liam shrugs, kisses my cheek, and follows him. Fiona offers to take my jacket and purse to the back and, when she returns, she’s carrying a huge tray laden with various cookie-decorating implements.
“I hope you don’t mind that I roped you into this,” she says as she sets the tray on an empty table.
“Not at all. I would have bought a ticket myself if I’d known about it. Besides the obvious appeal of your mom’s delicious cookies paired with cocktails, I’m happy to do anything that helps the center.”
“Same here. I can’t imagine it shutting down. Nathan, Liam, and I spent so much time there as kids, and it’s been Rex’s home away from home the last few years.” She works as she speaks, setting out shallow containers around the table. She explains each container should have a tub of vanilla icing, five different colored icing tubes, palette knives, and a variety of sprinkles and cookie toppers. Once the containers are finished, we distribute them among the tables, trailed by Nathan, who sets out plates of cookies. Liam is across the room helping Mae’s hired bartender set up the bar.
“Okay, kids, are we ready for this?” Mae asks, appearing from the back wearing a colorful nutcracker apron. She pauses on her way across the room to say hello to me and give me a hug. She leans close to Fiona and says something that sounds like ‘are you sure you’re up for this?’ to which Fiona nods before giving her mother a gentle push toward the front door.
I wasn’t sure what to expect with the attendees other than people over the legal drinking age. There’s an eclectic mix of people, ranging from couples on date night to a group of noisy women wearing Christmas-themed headbands to a few older people who seem to have come on their own and are breaking off into pairs and groups.
Fiona and I choose a vacant table once everyone else is settled. I don’t see Nathan anywhere—I expect he’s hiding out in the kitchen—and Liam is still helping at the bar. Warmth fills me as I watch him being his usual charming self, smiling and chatting to people as he garnishes glasses for the bartender.
Fiona is watching me with a knowing smile when I turn back to the table. She looks like she’s about to say something, but doesn’t get a chance before we’re joined by Delia and Addy.
“Hey, Fi, I thought that was you,” Delia says. Fiona gets up to hug her, then Addy. She turns to introduce us, but Delia grins in my direction and says, “We met Joss last week, the night of the snowstorm. So good to see you again, Joss. Andyou,” she says, turning back to Fiona and gripping her upper arms, “when did you get in? How long are you staying?”
I take a seat, not wanting to intrude on their reunion. I keep an ear on their conversation as I select a cookie and start slathering it with icing. Fiona asks where Delia and Addy are sitting and they say they haven’t chosen a spot yet because they arrived late.
“Well, Nathan and Liam were supposed to be our decorating buddies, but I doubt they’ll make it to the table any time soon,” Fiona says. I follow her gaze to the front counter where Nathan has joined Liam at the bar. “Why don’t you two sit with us?”
They accept the invitation and offer to get drinks for the table before settling in to decorate cookies.
“God, what a beautiful couple they are,” Fiona says to me once they’re out of earshot. “They’re a year or two younger than I am, but I remember when they started dating in high school. It was such a big deal because they were the first openly out kids in our school. And here they are, all these years later,married.”
“Just think, that could have been you and Nathan if you hadn’t left Honeywell.” The words, spoken in a saccharine tone, come from a woman standing behind Fiona. She’s wearing a smile that’s as sickly sweet as her voice.
Fiona releases a little sigh. “Here we go,” she mutters before shifting in her seat to face the woman. “Ingrid.”
“What a surprise to see you here,” Ingrid says. “Are you actually going to be home for Christmas this year?”
“I am. We’re celebrating the holidays together a bit early, and then I’m heading back to London.”
“So you’re not actually going to be hereforChristmas.”
The sneer on her face has my hand clenching around a tube of icing, causing a stream of blue to squirt onto my cookie.
“We’ll be having a big dinner, exchanging presents, and attending various events around town. Sounds like spending Christmas together to me,” Fiona says, her voice remarkably even.
“Right. Well, that’s nice. I just thought you might be sticking around for a while, especially with your dad so sick.”
“Thanks for your concern, Ingrid,” Fiona says, turning back around in her seat and reaching for a cookie. Her jaw clenches and her nostrils flare, but her bored tone is Oscar worthy.I’mthe actress here and I swear I could take lessons from Fiona right now. “I’ll be sure to pass that concern along to my parents,” she adds over her shoulder.
Ingrid remains where she is for several beats, appearing as if she wants to say something else. Finally, she spins on her heel and flounces away. Fiona waits a minute, then raises her head. “Is she gone?” At my nod, she lets out a long exhale, sagging with the force of it. She drops the icing tube she’s holding and unclenches her fingers, revealing a slight tremor in her hand.
I’m not sure what to do other than give her a sympathetic look.
“Some high school mean girls never grow out of it, apparently,” she says with a shrug. “I’m guessing you’ve only seen the good in this town so far, right? People have probably bent over backwards to be nice and accommodating.” I nod again and she quickly adds, “Don’t get me wrong, therearea lot of great things about Honeywell—sometimes it feels like a freakin’ Disney movie, minus the talking animals—but it has its bad apples, just like anywhere else, you know?”
