Page 19

“Oh my goodness,” Vanessa called back to the dining room, beginning to sift through the collection. “Mabel, this is incredible. You could open your own hat boutique.”

There were knit caps and berets, sun hats and fedoras, baseball caps and vintage cloches. Some were practical, others clearly meant for specific styles of outfits, and a few looked like they belonged in a costume box. As Vanessa dug deeper into the basket, her fingers closed around something particularly outrageous—a bright red knit cap adorned with sparkly white snowflakes and topped with a pom pom so enormous it was almost cartoonish.

The ridiculousness of it struck her as exactly what she needed to lighten the weight that she’d felt dragging her down all evening, leaving her heart feeling unsettled and her nerves on edge. Without thinking twice, she plopped the hat onto her head, the massive pompom bouncing as she walked back to the dining room.

The moment she stepped inside, Jackson burst into laughter so hearty that he nearly choked on his green beans. George chuckled, shaking his head, and Mabel let out an audible gasp.

“Oh my goodness,” Mabel exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “You look absolutely ridiculous and completely adorable at the same time.”

“I think the pompom is bigger than my head,” Vanessa said with a laugh, reaching up to touch the fluffy monstrosity. The simple act of being silly, of letting herself be genuinely playful the way she had with the ugly Christmas sweater, felt like taking a deep breath after holding it for too long. Like it was too ridiculous to take anything seriously, including the unsettled feelings she was having about her body and her pregnancy.

“Where did you even get that thing?” Jackson asked, wiping tears from his eyes.

“It was a white elephant gift at a Christmas party three years ago,” Mabel admitted. “I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away, but I’ve never been brave enough to actually wear it.”

Vanessa caught sight of herself in the mirror hanging in the hall just outside the dining room, and burst into fresh laughter. The combination of the ugly Christmas sweater and the outrageous hat was so absurd that it somehow worked, brightening her mood immediately.

“Mabel,” she said, turning back to the table with the pompom still bouncing, “would you mind terribly if I stole this for the winter? I think it might be exactly what I need to get through the next few months.”

“That crazy looking thing?” Mabel shook her head in amazement. “Sweetheart, you can borrow it for as long as you’d like. Wear it to the toy shop if you want, the kids will get a real kick out of it.”

“Deal,” Vanessa said, leaving the hat on as she returned to her seat. The weight of it on her head was silly and comforting at the same time, like wearing a physical reminder not to take herself so seriously.

For the rest of the dinner, the hat became a running joke, with George suggesting she could wear it to the market to draw people over to the booth, and Jackson volunteering to take her picture for their Christmas card. The lightness of the conversation lightened Vanessa’s mood with every passing minute, and she was glad she’d put the hat on, no matter how silly it looked.

As Mabel served her heavenly apple crisp for dessert, Vanessa found herself laughing and chattering along more than she had all day, forgetting about the swelling in her feet and how uncomfortable she felt sitting at the table. She felt like she was finally able to soak up all of the joy there among them. George and Mabel’s happiness was evident in every glance they shared, every gentle touch, every inside joke that made them both smile. Jackson’s contentment radiated from him as he talked about his work and their plans for the baby, his hand occasionally reaching over to rest on her knee and squeeze lightly.

She was surrounded by love and joy, sitting in a beautifully decorated home, wearing a ridiculous hat that made everyone laugh, and carrying the child she and Jackson had wanted so badly. This was one of the happiest times of her life, she reminded herself. And maybe it was normal to feel like an imposter in her own life sometimes, when everything was changing so dramatically. Maybe the disconnect she’d been experiencing was just part of the process of becoming someone new.

The thought was both reassuring and terrifying, but for tonight, surrounded by people who loved her, she decided to focus on the reassuring part. She could worry about all her feelings tomorrow, but for now, a ridiculous Christmas hat seemed like just the cure she’d needed.

Vanessa squeezed Jackson’s hand in return, and took another bite of her dessert. It was the holidays, the best time of the year, and she was determined to enjoy it.

No matter how many ugly Christmas items she had to add to her wardrobe.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Nicole smoothed down the charcoal-gray blazer she’d put on over a cream-colored silk blouse and a matching pair of dress pants, staring at her reflection in the mirror with her lips pursed thoughtfully. The woman staring back at her looked professional and polished, and she wondered if she’d picked the right thing.

She’d looked through the clothes she’d brought with her a dozen times the night before, trying to decide what she should wear for her first day. Henry had made it sound like it would be mostly office work, possibly some helping on the job, but surely he wouldn’t have her out with him on her first day. There would be some kind of onboarding, probably some paperwork to fill out, and he’d probably have her help out in the shop until she was comfortable. She’d always thought that erring on the side of professionalism was better, so after deliberating for longer than she normally did, she’d decided on the pantsuit.

Now, as she adjusted the fitted blazer and checked that her blouse was perfectly tucked, she wondered if she was overdressing for a job that involved Christmas lights and electrician’s customers. But old habits died hard, and she had always believed in the power of making a good first impression. She didn’t want Henry to think that she wasn’t taking the opportunity seriously.

The truth was, she had absolutely no idea what her job description would entail beyond the vague notion of being Henry’s assistant. He’d been in such a hurry yesterday afternoon that they’d barely discussed the specifics, and she’d been too focused on securing the position to ask many clarifying questions. But how hard could it be? He’d talked about appointments and scheduling and watching the shop while he was out, and while that had all been very vague, it hadn’t sounded like anything she couldn’t handle. And as far as assisting him, he wasn’t going to have her climbing ladders and stringing wires. He probably needed someone to run errands while he was on the job, or something like that, she decided.

She’d managed a major firm, handled fussy clients, and kept the office’s schedules running flawlessly back at Shipley. She’d put out every fire and eventually, had everything going so smoothly that there hadn’t been any fires. Surely whatever Henry Cline needed from an assistant for his small-town electric business, she could handle.

She had to figure it out, anyway. The alternative, going back to considering entering random businesses and striking up conversations about possible work, or going back home with her tail between her legs and asking Janet to take the house off the market, felt impossible. She wasn’t willing to consider that—not yet, anyway.

There was a pair of leather work gloves next to her purse, which she’d bought at the general store the night before, just in case she needed them for something that Henry required her help for. But she hadn’t been confident enough that it would be that kind of work to wear a more casual outfit. She looked once more in the mirror, hoping that she’d made the right choice.

The morning air was crisp and bright as she stepped out of the bed and breakfast, her heels clicking against the frost-covered sidewalk as she made her way to her car. It was too cold to walk, she’d decided, opting to drive instead even though it wasn’t that far.

Fir Tree Grove looked like something out of a holiday catalog in the early morning light. The shop windows that she drove past glowed with intricate displays, garlands were draped and wrapped around windows and doors and lampposts, and the bare branches of the maple trees lining the street sparkled with tiny white lights. It was the kind of picture-perfect small-town Christmas scene that she had wanted, and she couldn’t help a smile as she drove toward Henry’s.

As she got closer to Henry’s, the smile turned more nervous. The contrast to her life just a week ago couldn’t have been more obvious. It felt like it had been hardly any time at all since she’d been rushing around at Shipley, managing million-dollar contracts, her mind always several steps ahead of whatever she was doing at the moment. She’d thrived on being busy, important, needed—especially since she’d been feeling so much less needed at the same time in her personal life.

Now she was walking into a job she knew nothing about, in a town where everyone probably knew everyone else’s business, hoping that she could pull this off.