6

“How are you doing today, Mrs. Wexell?” Lani asked as she watched the older woman shuffle through the door of Styles and Smiles.

Mrs. Wexell carried her cane with her today; the cold, damp weather most likely irritating her arthritic joints. “I’m as well as can be expected, dear. And you?”

“Better than I deserve.” Lani set aside the bottles of styling products that she was using to stock a glass shelf. Lights twinkled from where Chloe had strung them above the shelves, adding a warm glow to the display. “Is everything OK with your hair? Do you need a touch-up or do-over?”

“Do I look like I need a touch-up?” Mrs. Wexell arched one thin eyebrow. “Or a do-over?”

“No.” Lani laughed. “But I’m not used to seeing you on Monday.”

“I’m just full of surprises, aren’t I?” Mrs. Wexell crossed slowly over to the counter. “Actually, I came to buy a gift certificate for Jill.”

“Oh, where is she?”

“She’s working at the jewelry shop. I couldn’t very well ask her to drive me here so I could buy her Christmas gift, could I?”

“I suppose not. That would spoil the surprise.”

“Exactly, so, I recruited a different chauffeur.” She leaned on her cane and bent toward the counter with a wink. “And he’s certainly a tall drink of water, don’t you think?”

The welcome bell sounded and Lani glanced up to find Ryan leaning lazily against the doorjamb. “Hello, Lani.” He removed his hat and dipped his head. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been too long.”

“It’s been a day and a half, Ryan.”

“I know.” His gaze captured hers, latching like an electron magnet. “And, like I said, it’s been too long.”

Though Lani tried, she couldn’t draw her gaze from him. She’d purposely attended the earliest church service yesterday, knowing Ryan liked to sleep in on Sunday and attend the service closer to noon. Then she’d spent the afternoon in a long walk along the greenway, hoping she’d avoid him if he decided to swing by her house to tackle more chores. That had proved to be a wise move; she’d returned home to find Christmas lights strung along the porch eaves. Ryan had obviously found the stash she and Grandma Cora had hastily stored beneath the workbench in the garage at the end of last season. And to add insult to injury, Moe splayed along the porch near the front door, basking in a ray of sunshine that caused the snow-covered ground to glisten like scattered diamonds, and gnawing one of the hugest rawhide bones Lani had ever laid eyes on.

“I noticed your beautiful Christmas lights as Jill and I drove home from evening services last night, Lani.” Mrs. Wexell sidled up to the counter, drawing Lani’s attention back to the present. “You must have worked very hard yesterday.”

“I didn’t string them.” Lani’s voice faltered as her gaze shifted to Ryan for the slightest moment and then back to Mrs. Wexell. “I’m assuming he did.”

“A wise assumption.” Ryan tugged the toboggan from his head and balled it in his hands. “I’m guilty as charged, but Moe helped.”

Lani propped a hand on one hip and waggled a finger. “Was that before or after you bribed him with that ridiculously-massive rawhide bone?”

“Does it matter?”

“I think not,” Mrs. Wexell interjected as she took her checkbook from her purse. “But I would certainly add that Ryan Connolly is a keeper, don’t you think, Lani? He’s kind, generous, hardworking…and he smells good, too.”

“A keeper?” Lani gnawed her lower lip. “I…um…”

Ryan’s guffaws drowned out further thought. Mrs. Wexell joined in the laughter as Lani stood there behind the counter.

“You smell good, too, Lani,” Ryan offered. “Better than a man deserves. And you’re smart, loyal, and—”

“How much would you like on the gift certificate?” Lani’d heard enough—more than enough.

“Enough for a style and highlights,” Mrs. Wexell replied. “And don’t forget to include a generous tip. I know how you are, Lani…always thinking of others before yourself.”

The comment elicited a sudden wave of guilt. Who was she thinking of now, with such curt and impatient behavior? Lani drew a breath to bring her attitude into check.

Help me here, Lord. I need a dose of patience…and humility.

“I noticed you have several boxes of decorations stored in your garage.” Ryan took a step toward the counter. “Do you plan to use them this season, Lani?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Tsk, tsk…” Mrs. Wexell shook her head. “Christmas is merely a week away, Lani. At my age, it’s not prudent to mull things over for too long. Ah, to be young and foolish again, and to have all the time in the world to squander. Youth is wasted on the—well, it’s wasted on the young.” She laughed at her own joke. “But forgive me, Lani, I digress. I’ll take that gift certificate now.”

“Certainly, Mrs. Wexell. Coming right up.” Lani retrieved the book of certificates from beneath the counter. As she leaned forward, the silver heart escaped her collar to dangle above the glass counter.

“Oh, I love your necklace, dear.” Mrs. Wexell set her checkbook aside. She reached across the counter and caught the sliver of silver as it swayed back and forth. “It looks familiar. Who gave it to you?”

Lani’s heart fluttered at the memory. “Ryan did…a long time ago.”

“Ah, yes.” Mrs. Wexell smoothed a pair of fingers along the tiny cross embedded inside the heart. “This piece is one of a kind…designed by my late husband. I remember now the day Ryan came into our shop to purchase it after discovering it in our window display. He had stars in his eyes…stars only for you, Lani.”

“I didn’t know.” Her pulse crescendoed.

“But now you do.” Mrs. Wexell released the heart. She took up a pen from the counter and scrawled her signature across the bottom of a check before tearing it from the register. “You know, Lani, the Good Lord can only lead you to a place, He can’t make you open the door and step inside.”

“I don’t understand.”

Mrs. Wexell quoted, “‘Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.’”

“Ephesians chapter four, verse thirty-two.”

“That’s correct. So you’re familiar with that passage?”

“Of course.” Lani nodded. “I’ve known it since I was a child.”

“Are they merely words, Lani, or something more?”

“I—”

“Don’t answer now. Think on it.” Mrs. Wexell exchanged her check for the certificate and tucked the gift into her purse. “But keep in mind that it was one of your grandmother’s favorite passages, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” Grandma Cora had cited the verse whenever Lani became discouraged by her mother’s extended absences. “I don’t know how I could have forgotten such a thing. Thank you for reminding me, Mrs. Wexell.”

“You’re welcome, dear.” She gathered her purse, slipping the strap over her shoulder as she took up her cane and slowly turned from the counter toward the door. “Ryan says you whip up a delicious roast. I’ll bet the meat and potatoes taste even better followed up with a hearty slice of warm apple pie.”

Lani allowed her gaze to connect with Ryan’s once again as guilt stabbed her. She hadn’t even sliced the apple pie after sending him away a few nights ago; it sat on her kitchen counter, untouched and still waiting to be eaten.

“Let’s go, son.” Mrs. Wexell waggled a finger at Ryan. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stop by the jewelry store and see what specials Jill has highlighted for this holiday season before you take me home.”

“I don’t mind at all. I’m in no hurry.”

“Perhaps you’ll find a precious token that suits your needs, as well.”

“Perhaps I will.” Ryan opened the door for her but turned back to Lani with a smile before following her out. “I’ll see you again soon, Lani.”

~*~

Ryan stopped by the hardware store after he dropped Mrs. Wexell at home. After stringing the lights around Lani’s porch yesterday, he’d taken a more thorough walk around the property and added a few items to his chore list. If she’d let him into the house again, he was certain he’d find even more.

And there was the matter of the mailbox. He didn’t think there was any chance of robins hatching from the nestled eggs, but who was he to argue the point with Lani—or with the mama robin that he’d found perched atop the nest that morning?

Ryan purchased all the items he needed and deposited them into the truck bed. From the parking lot of the hardware store, he could see the north end of the Boulder Creek Town Square where the community garden was slated for planting this spring. Already, the designated area was staked with orange flags that stood out against the snow-dusted lawn. As soon as the holidays passed and the weather eased a bit, a tractor and aerator would be brought in; digging and ground preparations would begin.

For now, though, the area held plants of another kind in neat rows. Their pine scent coupled with holiday music filled the air with visions of Christmas. Ryan smiled as he tucked the truck keys back into his pocket and crossed the lot toward the boulevard, quickly heading that way.