Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Molly had followed the droning directions from the app on her phone since the start of her trip. Thanks to a wreck on the interstate and a last minute turn to avoid sitting in traffic for a while, she found herself on a winding back road with no end in sight. Had the supposedly infallible app led her astray? For the last half hour her options for fuel had been limited, as in nonexistent. Why was the detour so long? Maybe she’d taken a wrong turn, though according to the app she was on track.

Once she had a chance to stop and check out the next scheduled turn she’d have a better idea of what was ahead, but she didn’t dare try to deal with a map on her phone while she drove. The curves insisted she pay attention. The only radio station she could pick up well played nothing but Christmas music, a mix of old and new. Bing Crosby might be followed by Pentatonix or Mariah Carey. As long as she didn’t have to listen to the one about a hippopotamus again.

She really should’ve spent the night in a hotel along the way instead of powering through, leaving Knoxville before the crack of dawn in order to make it to the resort tonight. The call of the gulf breeze had been too tempting; the idea of sitting on a balcony and listening to the waves spoke to her, after the month she’d had. Even before the detour, heavy traffic had added more time to the trip than she’d anticipated.

With her gas tank and her stomach on empty, a big truck stop with an attached fast food restaurant would’ve been nice. There didn’t seem to be much of anything on this route. A few houses. A restaurant that looked to have been shuttered a couple decades ago. Farmland. Cows. Trees. The occasional narrow side road that would lead to who knows where.

Finally she spotted a small gas station ahead. Even from a distance it looked less than magnificent, but it would have to do.

Molly’s stomach growled as she pumped gas, wishing hard that the restrooms inside the small station would be clean. Like her wish would make any difference. There likely wouldn’t be anything in the small convenience store worth eating. Week-old hotdogs on a warm roller, she suspected. A sandwich wrapped in plastic, with no expiration date. Stale donuts. Maybe she could grab a bag of chips to hold her over.

She finished filling her tank, slid the nozzle into place, and turned. Huh. How odd!

How had she not seen that Airstream before? The silver camper attached to a huge red truck parked at the edge of the parking lot should’ve been an eye catcher as she’d turned in.

A taco truck, according to the sign. The Taco Trailer . Hallelujah and Merry Christmas! She really needed a good, spicy taco right about now. With guac. Preferably accompanied by a margarita, but since she still had at least four hours of driving ahead of her that wouldn’t be the best choice.

Though dammit, she deserved a margarita. The breakup a couple weeks before turkey day had been an ugly one. Weren’t they all? Then she’d been fired four days after Thanksgiving. On the upside, she hadn’t liked her job all that much, she’d been the dumper not the dumpee, and the lease on her too small apartment was up February 1st. Her mom had been pushing her to move closer to Huntsville. No time like the present!

The putrid-green bridesmaid dress she was to wear in a few days would’ve normally horrified her, but given everything else that was going on, the monstrosity was a minor inconvenience. Natalie had always liked green, even as a kid, and Molly would wear a potato sack if that’s what her friend wanted. But really… chartreuse was not her color, even with her auburn hair. Was it anyone’s color?

Her feelings should be hurt that she was a last minute fill-in for a bridesmaid who’d broken her ankle and couldn’t walk down the aisle or anywhere else for a while. Natalie asked, Molly said yes, and the dress was shipped overnight. Miracle of miracles, it fit perfectly. No alterations necessary. Was it wrong to wish the thing had been lost along the way?

No, her feelings should not be hurt. It wasn’t like she and Natalie had spoken face to face in the past five years. They texted on occasion and kept in touch on social media, but it had been years since they’d had any real time together. They were both thirty now and their lives kept them busy. Too busy.

If not for social media she wouldn’t even know Natalie was marrying a hot-shot baseball player. In one of their short phone conversations Nat had mentioned how much she loved Tristan, how she couldn’t wait to be married, but she hadn’t mentioned his job. Every time they spoke one of them was interrupted by another call or a person showing up out of the blue. Conversations were cut short, questions went unanswered.

Molly pulled into a parking space on the far end of the parking lot and walked toward the taco truck. They really needed to advertise better! She should know. She’d worked in PR for the past six years. Public relations for a tech company wasn’t all that exciting, but the job paid well — had paid well — and she was good at it. The trailer door stood open. A large window offered no information. Maybe when she got closer she’d peek through that window and see a menu posted.

She should smell food by now. Molly came to a stop. Maybe they were closed. She looked at the sign again, blinked, and realized her mistake. The Tinsel Trailer. Not taco. She could’ve sworn…

She was about to spin around and head back into the little store to settle for an inadequate public restroom and a bag of chips, when an older woman walked out of the trailer’s open door. The lady had a Bohemian look about her, with a long colorful skirt that swished when she moved, a blouse of many colors that shouldn’t have gone with the skirt but somehow did, and a thick white braid hanging down her back. It would be difficult to guess her age, but she had a grandmotherly, hippie look about her.

There was no food here, but it would be rude to turn her back the moment she saw a person face to face.

“Sorry,” Molly said. “I thought this was a taco truck.”

The woman smiled widely. “A customer! And right on time. I was just about to set up my table.”

Maybe the old lady sold cookies, or homemade bread, or fruit. Molly hoped for cookies.

“I have just the thing for you.” The woman went back inside the trailer for a moment, and emerged moments later with a small white box in her hand. “This is for you.”

The box was too small to hold more than one undersized cookie. “I don’t need…”

“My name is Ms. Tinsel,” the woman said.

Ms. Tinsel of The Tinsel — not taco — Trailer. “I’m Molly. Molly Blake. As I said, I don’t need…”

“You need this,” Ms. Tinsel insisted.

Molly opened the box, no idea what she’d find inside. Nested on a piece of tissue was one half of a heart. It wasn’t red or pink, as you might expect a heart to be, but a beautiful shade of blue-green. The half-heart reminded her of something but she couldn’t quite remember what . A faded memory niggled at the back of her brain, and then the moment of deja vu passed.

This was the kind of thing you might buy and share with a lover or a BFF. Unfortunately she didn’t have a lover, and at thirty she was a little old for BFFs. It was pretty big for a necklace, though she’d seen bigger. Just not on her. “Where’s the other half?”

“Oh, dear, I sold it days ago.”

“This is very pretty,” Molly said. As she said the words the blue-green sparkled and seemed to move. Like the ocean. Like the gulf. “But I don’t wear much jewelry, really. Necklaces make my nape itch.”

The Tinsel woman looked confused. “This isn’t jewelry, dear, it’s a Christmas ornament specially manufactured by The Wishing Well Ornament Company.” Confusion gone, she smiled. “This is a very special wish ornament, if I do say so myself.”

Half of one.

“It’s half price,” Ms. Tinsel whispered. “And it comes with a ham sandwich and a sugar cookie. I made them both myself.”

Molly reached inside her purse for her wallet. “Sold.”

It was well after dark when Molly pulled into the well-lit resort. Shoot, there weren’t many parking spaces available. Most were at the edge of the lot. In hopes of not carrying her bags that far she drove down one row and then another, looking for an open spot.

Her sandwich and cookie were long gone and her half-ornament sat in the glove compartment, still in its box. She might just toss the thing. What good was half an ornament? The idea of throwing it away made her stomach knot, and she wasn’t sure why.

That half-heart still reminded her of something .

Ah, there it was! The last decent parking spot, at the end of the row. She headed in that direction with the same sense of relief she’d had when she’d walked into the gas station restroom and discovered that it was actually clean . A couple of things had gone her way on this long trip.

Out of nowhere, a red sports car approached the open spot from the other end of the row. Molly sped up a bit, but she was too late. The sporty car zipped into her space, easy as you please. She uttered a few choice words for the car, and then for the man who stepped out of it.

The jerk was tall and in good shape. Even though he was at the other end of the row she could tell by the way he moved, and by the cut of his blue jeans and snug shirt as he walked across the lot. Yeah, he was full of himself. One of the special people who thought it was ok to steal her parking spot.

She could speed up. He was right there.

Instead of starting her stay at the resort with vehicular homicide, Molly looped around and took one of the spaces at the far end of the parking lot. Grumbling to herself about jerks and the death of chivalry, she opened her trunk and lifted out her suitcase, placed her smaller bag with cosmetics and toiletries on top of the rolling suitcase, draped her purse over her shoulder and wrestled with the garment bag that protected the hideous bridesmaid dress.

If Natalie wanted to be surrounded by puke green as she said her vows, who was Molly to complain?

She was just a few steps away from her car when she realized she should’ve made two trips. If she’d arrived earlier there would’ve been bellmen waiting for guests, but she’d seen no one near the front of the main building when she’d driven in. Her options were to turn back and start again, or soldier on.

She soldiered on.

The automatic doors opened for her as she approached, and she stepped into a beach-appropriate decorated, well-lit lobby. The large Christmas tree in the center of the lobby was festooned with a garland of shells, blue balls, and sea-themed ornaments. Fish and mermaids predominated.

The check-in desk was manned by one tired-looking woman who wore a flowery shirt with colors that would’ve put Ms. Tinsel to shame. Yeah, there were no bellmen to be found at this hour.

Sports car jerk sat in the bar at the far end of the lobby with another man who looked to be the groom. She’d only seen pictures of Tristan, they’d never met, but yeah, the blond guy had to be him. She should head that way and say hello and if the groom had been alone she might’ve, but she was in no mood to smile and play nice with the man who’d stolen her parking space. Molly checked in with no trouble, organized her purse and suitcase again, and headed for the elevator, room key card in hand.

Two scantily clad women approached Tristan and the jerk. They were at the beach, but it was also December. Cover the boobs, ladies. They leaned in, trying to place themselves between the two men. There was no room, but they sure tried. She couldn’t hear a word the women said but they’d definitely taken up a flirty stance.

If Tristan didn’t send them packing…

He did, right about the time Molly reached the elevator. One point for the groom.

Even though he turned away from the women, the sports car guy still got zero.