Library

2. Lydia

2

LYDIA

T he door to the gallery opened, and Hailey rushed inside, her red hair bouncing around her shoulders as she hurried over to me. She looked cute in her black sweater dress with little snowmen on it and red tights. It was funny because I was dressed in something similar except my dress was gray and I had on black tights.

"I am so sorry we didn't get a chance to talk yesterday. I feel like such a bad best friend," she said, hugging me tightly.

I embraced her back and let go. "It's fine. You were busy. I took a quick walk around town and then went home to heat up some soup."

Hailey's face was so excited when she looked at me. "There are more crowds than there were last year. Even though we had a minor slump in March, the store is still in the plus. Now, with the Christmas sales, we will be even more ahead."

"Same," I replied. "It makes me happy."

"You guys!" Violet shouted as she barreled through the door. She held up a plastic bag and ran over to the Christmas village. "I got it! The Griswold Christmas house is ours!"

I had never seen her open a box so fast in my life. She placed the Griswold house into the empty spot in the village and plugged it in; it was brighter than all the other houses, which was perfect since it was just like that in the movie.

"I love it, Vi," I told her. "Mom and Dad will get a kick out of it when they come in today."

"Yes, they will," Hailey called out, her lips pouty when she looked at me. "Your store is so pretty. I'm a little jealous. Oliver would have a heart attack if I tried to decorate our store like this."

That made me laugh. "Guys just don't understand."

Hailey giggled. "No, they don't." The front door opened and I heard Violet greet the customer. Hailey squeezed my arm and sighed. "I'm going to go. Oliver's manning the store right now, but we both know I make all the sales."

I snorted. "That's because no one can say no to you. You're an excellent saleswoman."

She shrugged. "That's because I love the products we have in our store." She bumped me with her elbow. "Speaking of our stuff, are you going to hike with me and Oliver more next summer?"

It took all I had to hold in my groan. "I'll try," I said in all honesty. "My problem is that I don't like being the third wheel."

By the look on Hailey's face, she wanted to argue but understood my reasoning. "Who knows, maybe you'll be with someone by then."

"I could," I agreed, smiling hopefully. "We will see."

Hailey hugged me quickly and started for the door, waving her hand in the air. "I'm gone now! Have a good day, ladies!"

"You too," I called out.

I grabbed the duster from the storage room and brushed it gently over the sculptures and paintings as I walked through the gallery; it was something I did every morning.

"Now that is a beautiful piece," a voice said from behind.

I turned around to see the lady who had come in a few minutes ago. She was dressed in a red sweater and black pants, and a sprig of mistletoe was pinned to the left side of her chest.

Her brown curls hit right above her shoulders, and she looked to be in her midfifties. There was a glow about her as she looked at the painting behind me. It was of the snowy mountains and a cabin decorated from top to bottom with Christmas lights.

The lady nodded at the painting, her brown eyes never wavering from it. "Wouldn't you just love to live in a place like that?"

I did.

I couldn't begin to describe how amazing it felt to go home every night to such a wonderful place.

"I do, actually. It's not the exact replica of my home, but it's close. The artist changes it up every year." I skimmed a finger gently over the front door of the cabin where the artist had painted a wreath with lights that looked as if they were really lit up. "The artist used to love how my grandmother decorated her cabin for the holidays. Every year, he paints a new version, and we put it here in the gallery to sell. When my grandfather died, my grandmother didn't want to be there alone, so she sold it to me."

The lady's brown gaze met mine and she smiled sadly. "I'm sorry about your grandfather. I bet you have a lot of memories in that home."

"Way too many to count," I said. "Some of the best times in my life were spent in that place."

The lady held out her hand. "I'm Margaret Grant, by the way. It's nice to meet you. Sometimes I get carried away with talking and forget to introduce myself."

Laughing, I shook her hand. "Lydia Scott. And I'm the same way."

Margaret waved a hand around the gallery. "I take it you're the owner?"

I nodded. "Well, me and my sister, Violet. She's the one who spoke to you when you walked in."

Violet heard me say her name and turned to look at us; Margaret waved at her and smiled. "You two have a wonderful place here. It's so festive for Christmas."

A laugh escaped my lips. "It's our favorite time of year."

Margaret nodded. "Mine too." Her gaze roamed around the gallery and her eyes lit up. "Which is why I'm here. I want to buy a painting, but I've seen so many in here I love. I was hoping you could help me decide."

My heart pitter-pattered in my chest. Talking about artwork was one of the top joys in my life.

"I would be thrilled to help you," I offered. I pointed at the painting of the snowy Christmas cabin behind me. "As you know, this is one of my absolute favorites. The artist is local, as are all the artists of the other paintings here in the gallery. We have a lot of talented people here in Blowing Rock."

We walked around the store, and I showed her my other favorite painting, which was one of downtown Blowing Rock in the fall. The trees were all shades of red, yellow, orange, and brown.

After I'd taken her through the entire place, I could tell she hadn't fully made up her mind by the way her gaze flitted back and forth between the paintings.

"This is a hard choice," Margaret said, narrowing her eyes in concentration. We stood in silence for a few seconds, and she sighed. "I need a cup of coffee before I can decide." She grinned at me and nodded toward the door. "Want to grab some at the café down the street? I hear they have the best coffee in town."

"That they do," I agreed, excited to get another cup of one of Sarah's specialty brews.

I could never get enough of her coffee. I looked over at Violet, and she had a look on her face that said if I was going down to Sarah's Café, I better get her something. Margaret and I started for the door and Violet held out my purse to me, batting her eyelashes innocently.

"Want do you want me to get you?" I asked her.

Her eyes twinkled. "The crème brulee coffee. It's like heaven in your mouth."

Margaret giggled. "Sounds delicious. I might have to get that as well."

"We'll be right back," I said, taking my purse.

It was a chilly December Monday morning, and the sidewalks were already filled with the hustle and bustle of people walking around and enjoying our cozy, small mountain town.

Margaret peered around at everything with a look of awe on her face. "The architecture of your building is exquisite. It had to be built in the early 1900s."

"That's right," I said, glancing back at the gallery as we continued our way to the café. "The exterior is constructed of river field and stone from Grandfather Mountain. It used to be an apartment building a long time ago before my parents renovated it."

Margaret seemed genuinely fascinated. "I love old architecture. There's something magical about it, like there are stories hidden in the buildings somewhere."

She reminded me of my grandmother in the way she spoke; I couldn't stop from smiling. "As a kid, that's what I used to imagine. Violet and I searched through every nook and cranny of the gallery to see if we could find some hidden treasure left behind by the people who lived there before. Sadly, we never found anything."

Margaret shook her head and smiled. "You never know. This is an old town. There has to be some hidden treasure somewhere."

I winked at her. "Maybe I'll find it."

Sarah's Café was just at the end of the street on the corner. It was a cute little purple building with white shutters and a custom-made lending library box just outside the door that was made to look like a tiny cottage.

Margaret and I walked in, and all the tables were occupied except for one by the back window that overlooked the tranquil garden. I hadn't been lucky enough to get that table in a long time.

"Good morning, Lydia," Sarah greeted as we approached the register.

"Good morning," I replied back.

Sarah was in her late fifties with long white hair, and she loved to dress in hippie-style clothing that showed off nature. I don't think I'd ever seen her without a flower in her hair.

She introduced herself to Margaret and smiled. "What can I get you ladies?"

The aroma of coffee took over my senses, and I breathed it all in. Pastries and cakes were underneath glass cloches on the counter, and it took all my strength not to buy any of it.

"I'll take two crème brulee coffees," I said.

Sarah snickered. "Is one for Violet?"

I laughed. "Yep."

Sarah reached over and grabbed her cook's blowtorch. "She always likes extra sugar toppings."

That didn't surprise me.

"Might as well do mine the same way," I replied.

Sarah turned to Margaret with her kind smile. "Do you know what you'd like?"

Margaret's eyes twinkled. "I think I'll have the crème brulee coffee with the extra sugar topping, as well."

Sarah beamed. "Coming right up. Are you two going to hang out for a few?" I nodded and she smiled again. "Okay, I'll make Violet's right before you leave, so it'll be nice and hot for her."

"Perfect," I said.

Once Sarah finished making our coffees, Margaret and I sat down at the small antique table at the back window. The sprig of mistletoe on her red sweater caught my attention.

"You're very festive with the mistletoe. I have a Swarovski crystal snowman I like to wear if I go out on the town; it was a Christmas gift from my grandparents a few years ago."

Margaret glanced down at the berries and grinned. "I don't go anywhere without my mistletoe. History calls it magical. I like to believe it's helped guide me down the right paths in life. I've always been told that with mistletoe and Christmas magic, anything's possible."

I took a sip of my coffee and chuckled. "I would love to believe that could happen."

Margaret's gaze dropped to my hand. "I don't see a ring on your finger. I'm assuming you're not married?"

I shook my head. "Not yet. Guess you can say I'm still waiting for that right someone. I haven't been on a date in two years."

"Why not?" she asked, her brows furrowed curiously.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. "Because I kept myself too busy with the gallery. I don't blame anyone but myself that I'm alone." I looked down at my coffee and inwardly groaned. "I don't even know if I know how to date," I confessed, meeting her warm brown gaze. "Maybe my expectations are too high. The last guy I went on a date with only talked about himself. Is that normal?"

Margaret giggled. "Some men are like that, but the good ones are not. The right guy is out there. You just have to open your eyes and find him, really see who's around you."

I took another sip of my coffee. "What about you? Are you married?"

Her smile saddened, but there was nothing but joy on her face. "I was. I loved him with all my heart and still do. I see him every night in my dreams."

I assumed that meant he was no longer living, but I didn't want to ask; it was too personal.

"Do you think I'll find that right guy someday?" I questioned, hoping to break the sadness in the air.

I breathed easier when Margaret's grin widened. "I know you will, Lydia. And who knows? You might already have."

That was highly doubtful, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to stay positive; it was Christmas time, after all.

We finished our coffees, and I grabbed Violet's before we walked out into the chilly morning air back to the gallery.

"Do you need me to tell you any more about the paintings to help you decide which one to get?" I asked Margaret.

She shook her head and laughed. "No. I know what I want."

I loved it when people other than myself admired the artwork in my gallery.

"Oh yeah?" I replied happily as I opened the door. "Which one?"

Margaret stepped inside and held up two fingers. "Which two," she corrected. "I want the snowy cabin and the Fall Time in Blowing Rock ."

My mouth dropped and I felt giddy with excitement. My two favorites.

"They will look amazing anywhere you put them."

Margaret chuckled. "I have no doubt. The second I felt your energy when you talked about those paintings, I knew they were the ones I needed."

Violet strolled over and I held out her coffee.

"Did I just hear you say you're buying two paintings?" she said, taking her coffee.

Margaret's grin broadened. "You did. If you ladies want to wrap them up, I'll be by another day this week to pick them up."

"Sounds great," I replied excitedly. "Thank you so much."

Margaret paid for the paintings and waved to me and Violet before walking out of the gallery.

Violet waved back at Margaret. "She seems really nice."

"She is," I agreed, looking out the window to watch Margaret walk away, only she was nowhere to be seen. "There's something about her I can't quite put my finger on. It's as if I've met her before."

Violet laughed. "I get that all the time. It's called déjà vu."

No, this was something different. I just didn't know what it was.

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