“Hey.” Nadia tapped Tori’s shoulder with her gloved hand before glancing around the snow-covered park. “Have you noticed how sad Mr. Bryant looks?”
“Yeah. I think they got into a fight.” Tori bent and rummaged through a tote bag at their feet.
“You think?”
Tori nodded with authority as she stood, wielding a mini gardening hoe. “Totally. His shoulders have been slumped for, like, the last two days straight.”
Shaking his head, Blake approached Nadia and Tori’s hushed conversation—they were really bad at whispering—and waited a beat behind a snowman wearing a top hat as the girls attempted to roll snow into a large ball.
The fund-raiser event had started about an hour earlier, and already a variety of snowmen—and snowwomen—wearing scarves, beanies and gloves dotted the park adjacent to the community kitchen. A generous crowd milled about, forming their icy creations and taking breaks by the patio heaters set up in the parking lot. Charlie and Rachel had put a table near one of the giant heating lamps, taking entry fees and donations while Gretchen and Art peddled baked goods from Flour Power. But would it be enough to help Paradise Paws?
Speaking of—no matter how many times he checked his phone, Blake had yet to hear back from Mark Raines. He’d have to call later that evening and nudge, though he hated to do so. It put him in a position of need—and showing neediness while brokering a deal took away his power. Though right now, Mark had all of it, and they both knew it.
If only the guy realized exactly what was at stake.
Meanwhile, he had this to deal with. Blake stepped out from his hiding place as Tori and Nadia positioned their newest snowball on top of their lumpy start. “Your base is crooked.”
The girls jumped, knocking their haphazardly formed ball into a pile of slushy snow at their booted feet. They shot each other guilty looks. “How long have you been standing there?” Tori asked, nervously swinging the gardening hoe.
“Not long.” Blake knelt and began scooping snow into a more proportionate shape. “Definitely not long enough to be sad.”
They glanced at each other again. “He heard us,” Tori confirmed.
Nadia tossed her braid over the shoulder of her red jacket. “Well, you are sad, and I think it’s because of you and Charlie. What’d you do?”
He kept packing snow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Nadia snorted. “Come on, we’re teenagers, not toddlers. We can tell you like her.”
Like her. The innocent word choice felt like the world’s greatest understatement, and yet, at the same time... Blake looked across the little park at Charlie, standing by her table, smiling as she interacted with the community. Yes, he liked her. He always had, and he knew no matter what happened, he always would. But friends would be all they could ever be at this point, and Charlie didn’t even seem open to that.
“Like like her,” Tori added, in case there was any confusion.
Blake’s gaze darted between them, and he realized—as he was starting to do a lot with these teenagers—that arguing was futile. “You’re right, I do like her.”
Tori bent to help him with the snow, packing it with her shovel. “I think she likes you, too.”
Maybe once upon a time. “Adult relationships get complicated.”
“Only if you let them,” Nadia countered.
“It’s not that easy, trust me.” Why was he going in circles with these two? “Right now, I just want to be her friend again.” He finished making the smaller ball. “Help me with this one, will you?”
The three of them carefully lifted the second layer and secured it on top of the new base. “That’s a lot better,” Tori announced, clapping snow off her fuzzy mittens. “Now we just need a little one.”
“What we need is a plan.” Nadia crossed her slim arms around her middle and tilted her head at Blake. “What are you doing to do to win back her friendship?”
Back? He never had her in the first place. “I don’t know that there’s anything to do.”
“You could kiss her again.” Tori blurted the words, then immediately covered her face with her gloves. “Oops.”
“Again?” Blake narrowed his eyes at them.
Nadia shouldered Tori with a gentle nudge. “That was a secret.”
“How did you two—Never mind.” These girls were sneaky, as he already knew from busting them eavesdropping at Tulip House. “No one is going to kiss again, trust me.” He reached out and patted a lump smooth in the half-formed snowman.
Nadia pointed at him. “You must have messed up pretty badly in the past, huh?”
“Hey now. Why is everything automatically my fault?” He squared off with them.
“Well, was it?”
He squinted. “Sort of.”
Nadia gestured with her gloved hands, as if to indicate her point.
“Why do adults make this stuff so hard? At my school, people just pass notes to tell someone they like them. Or get a friend to do it if they’re shy.” Tori shrugged as she stuck a stick into the snowman’s side. “Do you want us to tell her?”
“No! I mean, no, thank you.” The last thing he needed was Charlie thinking he was using Tori to get to her. Even though on that note, he’d asked Charlie to help him connect with Tori. Now, ironically, he and Tori were connecting on their own—over a conversation about Charlie.
He shook his head. “I broke Charlie’s trust a long time ago, and I need to earn it back.” At this point, all he could hope for was that she’d feel differently about giving their friendship another chance, after having time to process everything they’d discussed yesterday.
Though he had no idea how much longer he was going to be there to even give her a chance to do so. He automatically checked his phone messages again. Nothing from Mark.
“Maybe you need a big gesture—like in the movies.” Nadia’s voice pitched with excitement. “What if you got her an awesome Christmas gift?”
Christmas. That was next week, wasn’t it? Maybe he should plan to stay through the holiday, even if the sale went through sooner. He should stick around, for Tori’s sake. But despite their good banter today, would his niece want him there after she learned the truth about him—and his role with the dog shelter?
Tori pulled off her glove and hung it on the snowman’s stick arm, then her eyes widened. She stepped back and surveyed their work in progress. “I just had an idea of something you could do for Charlie.”
Nadia twisted her lips. “This should be good.”
“Hear me out.” Tori focused on Blake as excitement lit her gaze. For a moment, she looked just like Danielle again. Better yet, her eyes held zero resentment, wariness or concern. That was a first for him and Tori, and right now, she could probably ask him to jump into a tub of ice water and he would if it would make her happy.
She glanced over her shoulder, cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered her idea.
Once again, Charlie had been too busy to stop and gauge how successful the fund-raiser was. But from the steady flow of entry fees and donations and the sale of her baked goods—she was donating fifty percent of everything sold to Paradise Paws—it had to be decent. At one point, while she’d been helping Gretchen restock the display case with peanut butter Santa hats, Nadia had run up and asked for her car keys. Charlie hadn’t even been able to ask why before the girl had taken them, thanked her and run off.
She really should find her and get them back. Plus, that would give her a good excuse to walk around and check out all the snowmen. Several local businesspeople had volunteered to be judges for both events, including Elisa from the Sweet Briar Café, Principal Crowder, Noah from the Hummingbird Inn, and Lulu, the owner of Oopsy Daisy Donuts.
“Go check it out. We’ll hold down the fort.” Gretchen waved her off as she took a bite of the spiced-apple scone Art held in front of her face. She grinned up at him, mouth covered in crumbs, and kissed him on the cheek.
Charlie turned away from the familiar display of affection, one she’d seen lived out in front of her since she was nearly fifteen years old. Gretchen and Art had something special—something she’d once imagined herself having with Blake. But now it was hard enough to muster up the courage to be a friend again. Was it because of her trust issues?
Or was it because, deep down, she knew she wouldn’t ever be content to only be his friend?
She grabbed Cooper’s leash from where he’d been secured near her table all afternoon and headed across the park. She didn’t intend to hold a grudge against Blake—his explanation had cleared up a lot of assumptions she’d carried over the years. But it didn’t change the fact that he was still a threat to the two things she loved most—Tori and the animal shelter. In one fell swoop, he was going to take both of those away.
She’d confided in Gretchen earlier that morning about Blake’s big news—that he was the family member interested in taking Tori away. Gretchen had reacted as Charlie wished she had been able to when Blake told her—surprise, followed immediately with grace, charm and buckets of trust in God.
Right now, the only thing Charlie could trust was the fact that nothing felt stable or secure—and might not again for a long time.
She tried to shake off her heavy mood, attempting to appreciate the Christmas carols blaring from a portable speaker as she and Cooper wove their way around the park, checking out the elaborate snowpeople crowding the square. Each entry had a label written in the snow before it. They passed Farmer Ice, who sported a carrot nose and a Brussels sprout smile; Ice, Ice Baby, who had a purple satin jacket draped around his back and a microphone taped to his twig arm; and Mama Snow, who carried an empty Starbucks cup and was surrounded by eight tiny snow children.
Still no sign of Tori, Nadia—or her keys.
“Charlie! Over here!”
She turned to see Nadia and Tori waving from a few stations over. Charlie tugged Cooper’s leash in their direction. “Hey, girls. Where’s your snowman?”
“Right here!” Tori stepped back alongside Nadia and gestured wildly to two snowpeople standing side by side. One wore sunglasses and a loosely draped tie and sported a scruffy five o’clock shadow made from what appeared to be crushed coal. The other figure was a girl, wearing a mop wig and an apron and holding a dog’s leash. At the end of the leash was a snowcanine the size of Cooper, wearing a dog sweater with a peanut butter Santa hat perched on his icy head.
Charlie’s eyes widened. Not an apron—her favorite apron, with the chocolate chip cookie design...the one that had been in her back seat just that morning. And that wasn’t a dog sweater—it was Cooper’s sweater with the Christmas tree on the back.
This snow figure was supposed to be her. And Cooper. And...
“What do you think?” Blake stepped up beside her, a tentative smile on his face.
Blake.
Her heart stammered at his sudden proximity, and her mind raced. She blinked at all three of them, automatically pulling Cooper back as he curiously sniffed his replica. “How did you—”
Nadia held up her car keys, jangling them as she wiggled her eyebrows and grinned. Ah. That was how. Her stomach flipped, and she wasn’t sure how to respond.
Then Charlie’s gaze registered the title etched in the snow before the elaborate group.
Voted Most Likely to End Up Together.