RayAnne was quiet all night and didn’t feel like baking cupcakes after all, so they opted for snuggling in front of the television with popcorn. They fell asleep on the couch like a couple of college girls.
The next morning, after dropping RayAnne off at school, Sydney stopped by Cookie Doe to pick up some treats for the tree-trimming get-together. “Good morning.”
“Good morning. You’re back.”
“I am. Those cranberry-orange scones were amazing.”
“Thanks. Same thing this morning?”
She waved her hand. “Oh, no. I can’t splurge on those calories that often. Today, I need a bunch of snacks for hungry ten-to twelve-year-olds who will be trimming a tree in the store this afternoon. Can you put an assortment together for me?”
“Sure. When do you need them?”
“Not until one o’clock.”
“We’ve got cookies in the oven now, and we can make some bite-sized ones. Probably better for busy hands. And less waste. I’ll walk them down around noon.” He put his hands on the counter. “I need to pick up a couple gifts, anyway.”
“Need me to pay you now?”
“No. I know where you work,” he said with a hearty chuckle.
She pulled her purse back to her hip. “Thanks.”
She turned to leave and he called her back. “Wait a second. Got something for you.”
“What is that?” Sydney took the treat in the wax paper.
“It’s a snowflake fortune cookie.”
“I’ve never heard of that.”
“That’s because I kind of invented them. Whisper-thin ginger cookies woven into the shape of a snowflake with just enough of a dusting of powdered sugar while they’re still warm to make them look like the snow just fell. Oh, and inside, there’s a Christmas wish for you. Some are just generic, but there are a handful of special ones.”
“Which is this?”
“No way of knowing, but somehow the right wish always lands in the right hands. You let me know if that’s the case.”
“That’s a lot of work. Thanks. What do I owe you for this?”
“My gift to you.”
“Thanks, Dan.” She tucked the cookie into her purse and walked down the block to the market to pick up a half-gallon of lime sherbet and some liters of ginger ale to make punch. She tossed a sleeve of paper cups and napkins into her cart, and she was done with her morning list of to-dos.
Sydney balanced the groceries on her hip as she twisted the handle on the door to The Book Bea and backed inside. An instrumental Christmas tune filled the air. It sounded a little like “Momma Kissing Santa Claus” had gone Caribbean, complete with steel drums.
“Oh goodness. What all do you have there, dear?” Bea rushed over to help.
“Thanks.” She let Bea take the light bag. “The stuff for punch for this afternoon. And the bakery is bringing down some cookies later.”
“Wonderful! I was so excited when I got your message.”
“I’ve got our pre-lit artificial tree in the car. I’ll go out and get that if you don’t mind putting this in the freezer for me.” She handed off the sherbet and then placed the ginger ale down near where the tree would be set up.
“I can help you with the tree.”
“No ma’am. I’ve got it. It’s not heavy.” Sydney made two trips to her car. One to get the large decanter for the punch and one for the tree.
She set up the tree while Bea tended to the few customers who wandered in.
Just as she straightened the red and white fur-trimmed tree skirt around the bottom of the faux pine, a pair of black boots stepped up next to her.
On her knees, she followed the well-shod legs up. “Mac? Hi.” She got up as gracefully as she could and swept at the dust from her hind parts. “Thought I might never hear from you again.”
“Why?”
“The tears. Drama. Sorry for all of that.”
“Wasn’t your doing. How is RayAnne?”
“Hurt.” She pushed her bangs to the side. Then glanced at her hands, hoping she hadn’t just smudged dirt on her face.
“Can’t blame her. But the tree trimming is still on?”
“Yep. We’re going make the best of things. Of course, I didn’t have a thing planned for Christmas since I thought she’d be gone. I’m kind of scrambling now. Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“Had to pick up an order at the bakery. Someone’s covering my class. Just thought I’d drop in and see if you were here, and you know, how RayAnne was and everything.”
“Thanks. That was nice.”
“Seth’s looking forward to the tree trimming, so we’ll be back this afternoon. Anything we can bring?”
“Nope. I think we’ve got it pretty well covered. Each of the kids is bringing an ornament or two. Should be relatively easy going.”
“Sounds good. Are you by chance off Friday afternoon?”
“Actually, I am. But I’m sure Bea can help you with whatever you need. She says it’s always quiet on Friday afternoons in here. Insisted that be one of my days off.”
“No. Actually, that’s perfect. I have an idea for Friday. We’d like to invite you and RayAnne to come over for dinner with us. Can we talk about that this afternoon?”
Friday night? “Sure. We can talk about it.” She sure couldn’t say she was working, she’d already said it was her day off. It was dinner. With kids. And technically, she hadn’t even said yes.
“Good. See you later.” Mac walked out and she couldn’t take her eyes off of him all the way down the sidewalk.
Bea was staring at her with that left brow arched so high it was like a finger pointing her way. “Uhhh-huh. Did I overhear something about a dinner?”
“Just with our kids. Don’t read anything into it. Besides, I didn’t say yes.”
“You will,” Bea said.
Sydney laughed. But it was a nervous laugh, and it sounded odd even to herself.
“He’s a nice man, and we all need friends. There’s one thing I’d like you to remember. No matter what. The happier you are with yourself, the happier your daughter will be. Be the example of a strong, independent woman without ever saying a word.” Bea tilted her chin up, then threw her arm up in the air in a flourish. “So have some fun.”
True. It wasn’t like there was a rule that she had to be in a relationship or even date. Just dinner. Kids. Easy.
“Oh. I almost forgot,” Sydney said. “The mayor came in the other day. He said they’ve been pre-selling tickets to the big caroling night this year and that you need to double your batch of goodies. And he wants you to save one special for him.”
“My famous chocolate-dipped pretzel rods.” A hearty laugh filled the room. “I’ve been making them for years. Doesn’t even require any baking. Just melting chocolate. I never was a good cook. My poor husband lost about twenty pounds the first year we were married because nothing I made was edible.”
“That can’t be true.”
“It is. I just never got the knack for it. He did all the cooking. Now I just heat stuff up.”
“You’ll have to come to dinner at my house then. RayAnne and I would love that. I’ll even send you home with leftovers to heat up.”
“Be careful. I’ll take you up on that.”
“I hope you will.”
“If he wants me to make a double batch, then I’ll have to order more pretzels, and plastic bags to wrap them in.” She shuffled through some papers on the counter. “Here it is. I’ll call them and get them on their way. We’re almost out of time. I’m going to have to get moving on those.”
“Do you need help?”
Bea hesitated.
“Just say yes,” Sydney said. “Make it easy on yourself. We’re happy to help.”
“That would be wonderful. They are easy as pie to make. Quite fun actually, but it does take time. And lots of counter space.”
“I happen to have tons of counter space and a huge island in my kitchen at the farm house. We can do it there.”
“Great. I’ll ship the rest of these supplies directly to your house then.”
“Deal.” Sydney went about getting ready for the kids. She draped a long tablecloth over an eight-foot folding table for the snacks, and set out the cups and napkins.
She picked up her purse from where she’d left it near the tree and carried it over behind the counter. “Oh yeah. Almost forgot. The sweet man at Cookie Doe gave me one of these today.” She held up the whisper-thin cookie. It was so delicate looking that she was afraid it might break.
“His famous snowflake fortune cookies.”
“Want a bite?” She held the cookie between her fingers. “I’ll share.”
“No, but I do want to know what your wish says.”
Sydney broke off a small piece of the snowflake and popped it into her mouth. “Wow. That’s the best ginger crisp I’ve ever had. You sure you don’t want a bite?”
“No thank you.” She wove her pointer finger over the cookie, toward a slip of paper folded in the center.
“Probably just says ‘Merry Christmas’ or something. Cute idea though.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Sydney pinched the corner of the paper with her fingers and pulled it out. “Oh. It’s not just a greeting. It says, ‘You’re starting a new chapter on your journey. Don’t question gifts of the heart.’”
“I knew you’d have a real fortune in your cookie. Just knew it.” Bea looked smug. “He only has a handful with real fortunes in them. They are quite special. And they usually come true. I think this means you’ll fall in love.”
“Are you saying you think he gave me this one on purpose?”
“Oh, no. He has no way of knowing which is which. He makes those cookies up in huge batches. Ships most of them out all over the country. Internet business and all of that.”
“I wonder what it means?” Maybe it was about her taking over The Book Bea. Or that Hopewell was the place she’d always been meant to be.
“You ask me, it’s saying that those boots you saw under the tree a little while ago are going to be part of your future.”
“Oh, stop it. That’s just silly.”
“Is it?” Bea removed her glasses and let them drop to her chest on the beaded chain.
“Yes. It’s a random cookie. And a guy who is just being nice and happens to probably feel sorry for me because he was here when my jerk of an almost-ex-husband let my daughter down.”
“We’ll see. I’ll let it go for now, but mark my words, there’s more to this story.”
Sydney didn’t argue. She knew when there was no point to.
“But there is something else I want to talk about,” Bea said.
“What’s that?”
“I’d like to talk in detail about the store numbers with you. I’ve got all of the ledgers here. If you still would like to consider taking over the store, I think we could start with a thirty-day trial. For January. That way if it’s not what you expect you can back out and there are no hard feelings.”
“I won’t want to back out. I think the only problem will be whether I can make it work financially. I mean this place…” She spread her arms and took it all in once again. “It’s a dream. Who wouldn’t want to run it?”
Bea’s laugh was hearty. “Not many people have the same love for books that we do, I’m afraid. It’s special.”
“I’m almost afraid to let myself get too excited. I mean, just the inventory alone is worth … oh gosh it’s going to add up quickly. I don’t know what makes me think I’m going to be able to afford it. I would want to talk to RayAnne too. I don’t want to mislead you, Bea.”
“I promise you, if this place is in your heart, we’ll find a way for you to afford it.”
Sydney wasn’t quite sure what to say, or even what that meant, but her heart was filling with hope. “How am I ever going to thank you for this opportunity?”
“You’re going to run this store and let people know and love you like they have me all of these years.”
“Those are awfully big shoes to fill.”
“Nonsense. You are already making your touches known. Today is a perfect example.”
“Well, then we better get a move on and get ready for the kids who are coming to decorate the tree. We’ll work through all of this later. We have plenty of time to get through the details before the first of the year,” Sydney said, but now she was more anxious than ever.
Suddenly she felt a renewed excitement that she hadn’t felt in years. She’d have to do both, work the job at Peabody’s and help out at the bookstore for a while. At least until they had everything figured out. The idea of someday owning The Book Bea felt so right.
This might end up the best Christmas ever.
Sydney envisioned a fancy advent calendar, only instead of tiny chocolate Santas leading to Christmas Day, it had Hershey’s Kisses, her favorite, in each window until the day The Book Bea would be hers.
Decorating the tree today was going to be even more special now for so many reasons.