She resisted, barely, the urge to primp and put on makeup. She’d been makeup free since the reno started, putting it on today didn’t feel right. It felt like pressure. She settled on a hint of lipstick. Navy tights, patterned with snowflakes, were topped by a red sweater with an enormous snowman and Santa. Christmas tree earrings and a matching bracelet completed her holiday outfit. She stuffed her painting clothing into a bag, threw it in her SUV and returned to the store.
Jesse was waiting in the store when she got back. His hair was damp from the shower, and wonder of wonders, he wore pressed jeans and a button-down shirt. His beard was freshly trimmed, though his hair still brushed his collar. He looked like a different person.
“Wow, you look great.” She tugged gently on his collar. “You clean up nicely.”
She opened her jacket and showed off her holiday outfit. Jesse groaned.
“More holiday stuff? How much do you have? I was hoping for some of the business clothing you like.” His voice was light, but she heard his serious undertone. He really had an issue with Christmas.
“I am opening a Christmas themed store,” she said lightly.
“Don’t remind me. Is it okay to leave Rover here?”
“Yes, please.” Serena injected. “He’s a great dog.”
“It’s okay with me,” Hailey agreed. “Am I driving, or are you?”
* * *
The parking lotat Cassie’s was nearly empty when Hailey pulled up. “Looks like we missed the lunch crowd.” Cassie’s, a local hot spot, was known for its fantastic food. Everything from steak to chicken, breakfast to supper.
“It’s nearly one-thirty. We should get a good table. Maybe one with a view of the lake.”
Carson’s Lake wasn’t much. A stream fed, man-made lake at the edge of town, it was manually dug in the thirties using hand tools and horse-drawn wagons. It was the product of a government make-work project. Cassie’s was the only building on its imported sand shores. A provincial park designed for walkers, day use and picnic areas surrounded the lake. Creamy white snow covered the beaches and bled away against the pristine green boughs of the spruce trees.
The hostess showed them to a window table. Cassie’s was casual early in the day, but servers were busy laying white tablecloths and setting up for the dinner service. Hailey inhaled deeply, reveling in the heady aroma of melted cheese, tomato sauce and garlic. She had a sudden craving for Italian food.
“Would you care for a beverage?” the twenty-something, blonde server asked.
“I’ll have the café mocha special; with marshmallows and whipped cream, please,” Hailey requested.
“Coffee. Black, for me, please.”
They perused the menu and watched a lone dog walker toss a stick for his pet.
“This is nice,” Jesse said. “I haven’t been here in years. Mom used to love this place.”
“It’s always been a favorite of my folks, they come here a lot. That’s probably why your mom stopped coming.” She wanted to bang her head against the table. Why was this conversation so stilted, so awkward? They chatted freely when they were working.
“You know what? I’d like to talk about you, your plans, the weather, anything but our parents’ stupid feud.”
“It might be stupid,” Hailey said, “but the hurt feelings are real. I just wish there was a way to bring them back together. I know my mom misses yours.”
“Mom’s lonely. She’s alienated a lot of people. When she isn’t drinking, she’s gossiping. I think she believes other people want to hear her half-true overheard tales.” He shook his head sadly. “I wish I knew what to do with her.”
“You and me both.” His hand was clenched around the base of his water glass. She stroked his fingers until they relaxed.
The waitress came to take their order and her light-hearted chatter cut the gloom around them. Their meals followed shortly after.
“This is heavenly,” Hailey enthused after her first bite of chicken lasagna. “I didn’t expect it to be this good.”
Jesse gave her a puzzled look. “If you didn’t think it would be good, why did you order it? Don’t you just order what you want? I do.” He took a large bite of his barbeque pork side ribs without smearing sauce on himself. She envied that skill; she’d have sauce from her nose to her elbow.
“Sometimes, but I’m watching my weight.” Heat rose in her face. He didn’t need to hear about her weight woes. Way to kill the mood.
“Why do women fret about weight so much? Men don’t care. We just eat what we want.” His expression was dead serious.
“I don’t know. We just do. Most of us. It’s harder for women to maintain their shape.” She shoveled another bite into her mouth just to keep from talking.
