Chapter 10

10

By the time Mitch dropped into the shop to pick up the collectible Department 56 Snowbaby he'd ordered for his mom, Frankie had a Vote for Elinor poster in the shop window.

"Looks like you found a perfect candidate for Mrs. Claus," he said to Frankie as she rang up his sale.

Elinor, working the second register, blushed and beamed.

"I'll vote for you, Elinor. You up for spending the day with me?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she said, and the blush spread down her neck.

"We're going to stuff the ballot box," said Frankie.

"Thank you for doing this for me," Elinor said to her after Mitch and their latest wave of customers had left.

Frankie shrugged off her thanks. "Like Mitch said, you'll be perfect for the job. You're sweet and kind, and you'll make an adorable Mrs. Claus."

She was also shy, as Stef had pointed out, but really, the main focus at the event was Santa. Elinor would be fine.

In a way, getting temporarily bumped from the Mrs. Claus position was a good thing for Frankie. It would give her more time to concentrate on overseeing a meet-cute between Stef and the daddy in need of rescuing. Things did have a way of working out.

Meanwhile, Frankie had Natalie to worry about. Jonathan still didn't know if his job was safe, and more than once in the last couple of days, she'd caught Natalie texting on her phone and gnawing her lower lip.

Natalie would nod bravely in agreement when Frankie assured her that everything would be okay, but when you were in the middle of a storm, it was hard to imagine ever seeing a rainbow.

"That is the last of our Elf on the Shelf dolls," Adele informed her Friday afternoon. Starr March had just left with one to replace the elf the family puppy had discovered and shredded. "I told you those were going to fly off the shelf."

"Well, who knew?" said Frankie.

"Me," said Adele.

"I'll see if I can get in a few more," Frankie promised. Her phone dinged with a text from Brock. She'd deal with him later. At the moment, she had a business to run.

In addition to begging her supplier for more elves, she had a conversation with her business acquaintance Samuel Morgan, who owned the Mountain High Candy Company. "We lost the head of our creative confections team, and I don't know what I'm going to do," he said.

Now, there was an unexpected gift for her daughter straight out of Santa's sack. "What about Natalie? You know her creations have been a huge hit here at the store. We can't keep them in stock. Every time I turn around, she's coming up with a new flavor creation."

"You wouldn't mind me luring her away?"

"I don't have a problem with that," said Frankie. Of course, she'd miss having her daughter around, but the timing of this offer of a full-time job was perfect. It would mean a forty-minute commute from Carol, and they'd have to brainstorm childcare options for Warner, but still, it could be a good thing. If Natalie went to work for Mountain High, she'd earn a higher wage and have better benefits than Frankie was able to give her. "In fact, I think she'll jump at the chance. She's off today. Why don't you give her a call?" Frankie suggested, and shared Natalie's number.

"Thanks. I will," he said.

"I think I've just solved Natalie and Jonathan's money worries," she happily announced to Adele after the call ended.

Adele stopped putting more of the nutcrackers out on their display table. "I didn't know she'd asked you to solve them."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Frankie demanded.

"Just what it sounds like."

"They're worried about his job."

"He hasn't lost it yet. Honestly, daughter dear. If you spent as much time managing your own life as you did everyone else's..." She let the sentence hang.

"What?"

"I'm not sure Natalie wants you running her life."

"I'm not running her life. I'm just helping. And you're a fine one to talk. You're always giving me advice."

"Advice is one thing. Meddling is another." Adele pointed a finger at Frankie. "If you're not careful, one of these days all your helping is really going to backfire."

"That's ridiculous," said Frankie. "Everyone needs help."

A bell over the door jingled, a stranger walked in, and that ended the conversation.

Fortunately, the customer had left by the time Natalie called and a new conversation began.

"What the heck, Mom?"

This didn't bode well. "What's wrong?" Frankie asked, even though she already knew. There could only be one thing wrong.

Adele was watching her with an eyebrow raised. Frankie turned her back.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Natalie demanded.

"No, of course not," Frankie protested.

"Then why are you pimping me out to Mountain High?"

Frankie lowered her voice. "I'm not pimping you out. I'm trying to help you. I know Jonathan's been worried about his job."

"Well, he's not now. He just learned this morning that it's safe. And even if it wasn't, I don't want a forty-minute commute to work, and I don't want to work full-time."

"But you love making candy," Frankie protested. This was a great opportunity. Natalie should have been thanking her.

"Only small batches for gifts or for the shop. And I like working part-time. I thought you got that."

"I do. I just thought you might like this better."

"Well, I wouldn't," Natalie snapped. "I've gotta go." And she did.

Frankie could feel her mother's gaze burning into her.

"So much for Frankie Lane's Employment Agency," Adele observed.

Frankie turned and scowled at her. "Not funny, Mom."

Adele instantly lost her snark and came over to give Frankie a one-shouldered hug. "I'm sorry. You mean well, I know. But I really think you should take a break from being so involved in other people's lives. You have your hands full running your own life."

"I was only trying to help," Frankie muttered.

"No, darling. You were interfering. Help is something people ask for. I didn't hear Natalie asking for yours."

"This job would have been perfect for her," Frankie insisted.

"And what was she supposed to do for after-school day care?"

"We could have worked out something."

"What's this we stuff? Have you got a mouse in your pocket?"

"Come on, Mom. I would have pitched in and helped, and you know you would have, too."

"If someone asked me. But nobody did. And nobody asked you, either. Get your own life sorted out, and that should keep you plenty busy."

Stef read the text from Natalie. Lunch out? Please?

Oh, boy. What was going on? Had Jonathan's position dried up? OK , she texted back. Salad Bowl at 1?

Yes!!!

"Okay, what's going on?" Stef asked as soon as she and Natalie were seated.

"Mom," Natalie said.

"I thought you were going to tell me that Jonathan lost his job."

Natalie shook her head. "No, we're good. He's not going to be let go."

"That's a relief."

Angie, their regular server, appeared with two glasses of water and a big smile. "How are you two doing today?" she asked.

Natalie didn't look ready to give a cheery answer, so Stef answered for both of them. "We're good," she said. Any other answer could very well inspire Angie to sit right down at the table with them and offer a shrink session. Angie cared about her Holiday Happiness peeps. Much as Angie cared, Stef was sure Natalie wouldn't want half the town hearing about what was bugging her.

"I assume you both want your usual mint tea with lemon?" Angie asked, and Stef nodded. "And how about some veggie soup?"

"I'll pass and have my usual," said Stef.

"One Hail Caesar," said Angie, not bothering to write down the order. "How about you, Natalie?"

"The same," said Natalie, so Angie nodded and moved on to see if any other customers wanted to share their day with her. "I don't need to eat anything hot. I'm already steamed," Natalie told Stef, once Angie was out of hearing distance.

"Okay, what's your mom done that's so bad?" Stef asked.

"Tried to get me a job," Natalie said, looking none too happy about it.

"Okay." That didn't sound too bad.

"Full time at Mountain High Candy. With a forty-minute commute."

"Working at a candy company doesn't sound too bad," Stef ventured.

"Except I don't want to work full-time right now, and I never said I did. I'm happy making candy when I can and helping out at the shop. And I want time for my family. And...we're going to have a baby," Natalie added.

Stef blinked. "OMG, seriously?"

Natalie seemed to forget she was angry and grinned and nodded. She pulled a holiday-wrapped package from her purse and slid it across the table. "Don't open it here. I had one made for Mom and Gram Gram, too."

"So you haven't told your mom yet?"

Angie arrived with their drinks and a bowl of herbed biscuits just in time to hear this. "Tell your mom what? Are you okay, Natalie?"

"Natalie's working on a new candy," Stef improvised, ditching the bag. "Don't tell Frankie. It's top secret."

Angie nodded, her eyes alight with the thrill of being in on the secret. "My lips are sealed."

For about two seconds.

"Hey, Ang," called a man two tables down. "We need more bread here."

Angie left, and Natalie continued. "I was going to tell her on Sunday. Am going to," she corrected herself. "I should be over being mad at her by then."

"If she'd known, she probably wouldn't have..."

"Interfered?"

"Helped. She's been worried about you guys."

"I know. I get that. And I love Mom."

"Of course you do. We all do."

"But why does she think she needs to run everybody's life?"

"Habit."

"It's a bad habit. I'm not twelve."

"She knows that. She only wants to help." Natalie's thundercloud expression returned, and Stef felt the need to explain. "Your mom feels things deeply, and she always wants to make things right for people. It started way back when our dad died. Your grandma had a rough time for a while. She sort of...wasn't there."

Natalie looked perplexed. "I've never heard about this."

"It's way in the past and doesn't matter anymore. Your grandma's a strong woman, and she eventually pulled herself together. But it didn't happen right away."

"I guess I never really stopped to think about Gram Gram's life when she was younger."

"Maybe none of us do. Old people are old people, and that's where we leave them."

Angie was back with their food. Time to take a sip of tea and shut the mouth.

Once she'd moved on, Stef continued. "I was only five—I'd been a surprise baby—and didn't grasp what was going on. My mother was totally shredded, but all I knew was that Daddy was gone, and my mommy wasn't paying attention to me like she used to. Frankie was so much older. She sort of took over as mother for a while. She'd already nominated herself to be a second mother to me because of our age difference, but this really cemented that."

Even after Adele recovered her equilibrium, Frankie had still been there for her little sister, offering fashion advice, encouraging Stef to get involved with her high school newspaper, helping her learn how to drive.

"It's never changed," Stef continued. "And I have to admit, I still kind of look at her as a second mom. I adore your mother."

"I do, too," Natalie said.

"Then you might have to give her a little grace. She's used to trying to smooth out everyone's lives." Including their love lives. Well-meaning as Frankie was, she didn't have the gift for matchmaking. But still. "Everything she does, she does out of love. Which is why I can never stay mad at your mom."

Natalie frowned. "If she wanted me to have a full-time job, she could have offered me one at the shop. At least I wouldn't have a commute."

"Maybe she thought someone else could pay you better."

Natalie shrugged and dug into her salad. "True. They could. But we're going to be fine now, and really I like working part-time and making candy."

"So, life's good," said Stef. "Let this go."

"Yeah, I guess I need to." Natalie took another bite of salad and chewed thoughtfully. "You know, it's so ironic. Here's Mom, always running everyone's lives—trying to find jobs for me, giving Elinor a makeover."

"And trying to match me up," added Stef. "Don't ask." No way did she want to revisit the super-fail dinner party.

Natalie rolled her eyes. "But she can't figure out her own life."

"She's got most of it figured out," Stef said in fairness to her big sister. "Your mom's done a great job of building her business and picking up and carrying on after your dad died. He was her soulmate. You know that old love you to the moon and back saying? Well, she loved him to the moon and way beyond."

Natalie stared down at her salad and blinked, swiping tears from the corners of her eyes. "I still miss him. It's just so wrong that he's not here."

"I know," Stef said, and she, too, wanted to cry.

Ike had been a great man—fun, generous, the kind of man Stef had wanted to marry. The kind of man she'd thought she'd married. Until Richard showed his true colors. Were there any more Ikes out there? Stef sincerely doubted it.

"You know Mom didn't even want to go out with Brock, and I don't think that's going to last." Natalie sighed. "I don't want to see her alone for the rest of her life."

"She's not alone. She's got lots of friends," said Stef, trying to put a positive spin on things.

"She's going to lose them, too, if she's not careful. I still can't believe she put Mitch on a dating site."

That had been one of Frankie's goofier ideas, trying to set up a man who was perfect for her with someone else.

"Maybe we should be interfering in her life," suggested Natalie.

Stef laughed at the idea. "No, thanks. I've got my hands full trying to manage my own love life."

Ha! What love life?

Quit ghosting me. I know where to find you.

Frankie read Brock's text and sighed. She was hiding, not wanting to deal with the mess she'd stepped into.

But she needed to step out of it. Sorry. Want to meet up tonight?

Yes. How about Heat?

The restaurant offered interesting food fusions, such as chicken wonton tacos and pad thai quinoa bowls. Their bar specialized in color-changing cocktails, and it was always hard to get reservations.

Made reservations for six.

Well, he'd been confident. She supposed that was hardly surprising considering how she melted when he kissed her at the bar in Carol's Place. He was probably sure that even though she'd been hiding from him, he'd get them past that.

But now she was sure he wouldn't. When something didn't feel right, it wasn't right, and she needed to set the man free to go find someone else.

OK , she texted back, even as she wondered if she should just take him out for coffee. Or do the ultimate in tacky and say adios via text.

Let me pick you up , he texted.

That would really end up being awkward. Have to run some errands first , she lied. I'll meet you there.

She got a sad-face emoticon in return. He'd probably be a lot sadder after they had their talk. But he was gorgeous and nice and would have no problem replacing her.

That thought was hardly an ego boost. True nonetheless.

Even though she was going to be ending things before they got any further down the love road, her pride demanded she go out looking good, and she still found herself spending more time than necessary deciding what she was going to wear. The red dress with the faux fur trim beckoned, but she told it no. It was too sexy and would say, Pay no attention to anything I'm saying. I don't mean it . She settled for jeans and a white blouse, topped with a soft angora sweater, along with her favorite designer-knock-off black boots with the bows on the side. Festive yet casual, pretty but not sending any melt me for Christmas messages.

As if she'd have to ask. A huge helping of a man like Brock would melt a woman simply because he was breathing.

He arrived at the restaurant casually dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, looking ready to model for the cover of a romance novel. Or star in a holiday movie: The Holiday Hunk .

He'd have to be someone else's hunk.

He greeted her with a smile. "You look amazing."

She deflected the flattery. "You're easily amazed."

"Our table's not ready yet. Want to sit at the bar?"

Maybe she could end things at the bar, save him some money. She nodded.

He put a hand to her back as they made their way to a tall table. A man's hand on her back felt so good. No melting , she commanded herself.

Once seated, he looked at the drink menu and pointed to one. "How about this, the Christmas Chameleon?" he suggested, showing her a picture. The drink sported several colors, thanks to our exotic butterfly pea flowers , said the description. Butterfly pea flowers—she was living large.

"Okay," she said with a nod. She could stall the moment of truth by talking about their drinks. And then what? His life? Where he saw himself in ten years? Where he saw her in ten years? Starting to think about social security! She knew how fast ten years would go.

As soon as they ordered their drinks, he jumped right into it. "So, how come you've been avoiding me?"

"I'm sorry. I've been busy," she said.

He cocked his head and studied her.

"I have."

"You don't have to be afraid of this," he said. "Your husband would want you to get out and live."

"I live," she insisted. Okay, so her hormones were nearly in the graveyard, but that was beside the point.

Their server arrived with their drinks. They were so colorful. They said party . They were not even remotely a match for the conversation she and Brock were about to have.

He picked his up and held it toward her. "To the rest of our lives."

She could drink to that, even though the rest of their lives wasn't going to look like what he was envisioning.

This was ridiculous. She needed to quit stalling. Pull the bandage off with one rip. She took a fortifying gulp of her drink.

Then she heard it. Two twentysomething women, dressed in holiday finery and looking for fun, had just settled in at the table next to them. "Look, a cougar and her cub," one said to the other in a stage whisper, and her friend giggled.

Frankie's face caught fire. She knew Brock heard it, too, because he frowned.

"They're right, you know," Frankie said to him.

"They're drunk," he said.

They hadn't gotten any drinks yet. They were sober, and they knew exactly what they were doing.

"Drunk or sober, it doesn't change the fact that we have a big age gap." Not to mention an experience gap.

"That's ridiculous," he scoffed. "You look better than some forty-year-olds."

Some, not most. She wondered if he even realized what he'd said. "For now."

Actually, even now wasn't all that good. She was getting creases at the sides of her eyes. And she didn't like to think about the direction her boobs were starting to lean. It happened. Gravity got everyone in the end. Anyway, she was more than what people saw on the outside, right?

"It's just a number, Frankie."

"It's more than that. It's...stages."

Hadn't she already tried to explain this to him? He was determined to be dense. Or he simply couldn't see that far into the future. How farsighted had she been at forty? Stages.

"We will always be at different ones in our lives," she said. "Right now, you don't see it, but down the road, you will. I'll age before you will. I'll get tired at night and want to go to bed with a book..."

"And me."

She ignored him and went on. "You'll start noticing younger women. Thinking maybe you'd like to have kids after all." Notice their breasts riding higher, take in their smoother skin. It would be simple biology in action. "And then you'll want to move on," she continued. "You'll feel guilty. I'll feel heartbroken and humiliated..."

"Why do you think that?" he argued. "I'll be getting old, too, you know."

"But not at the same rate." Why was he making this so hard? She took another big gulp of her drink. "Brock, I'm sorry. I really do like you, but we're just not a fit. I can tell."

"We were fitting pretty good last time we were out," he said, reaching for her hand.

She slid it away before he could catch it. "You really know how to kiss, but I'm not the one you're supposed to be kissing. There is someone out there who you are supposed to be."

"Frankie," said a female voice.

Frankie gave a start and turned to see Barbara Fielding, elegantly gaunt in a black dress and matching heels, topped with a red suit jacket. She looked very corporate and slightly green-eyed.

"Barbara, what are you doing here?" Frankie asked.

Oops. That sounded like Barbara couldn't possibly have a social life. Obviously, she could.

Barbara's eyes narrowed. "I'm meeting some friends. Speaking of, who's yours?" The sour smile turned sweet, and the sour voice picked up honey.

"This is Mitch's new manager, Brock Adams."

"I'm going to have to go to the hardware store more often," said Barbara. "I'm sure I need a new...screwdriver."

Oh brother. Don't roll , Frankie commanded her eyeballs.

Brock grinned. "Good to meet you, Barbara. We've got just about anything you'll need at Handy's, and I'll be happy to help you find it."

"Good," Barbara said. An older couple walked in, and she waved to them. "Well, I'll let you two enjoy your drinks. See you soon, Brock."

He nodded. "Sure." Barbara left, and he turned his attention back to Frankie. "Frankie, there's no other woman in this whole town who's as fine and fun as you. I'm never going to change my mind about that."

Oh, the things people said so sincerely, believing every word. "You say that now, but you hardly know anyone in town yet. And really, you hardly know me. You can't know how you'll feel in ten years," she added, circling back to her main argument.

"Nobody can," he protested.

"You're wrong there," she said. Ike had promised to love her till the day he died, and he had. She'd known he was the only man for her, and he had been. "I bet those two women could use some company. Go join them. Tell them you were just keeping me company until my date arrived."

He scowled. "Come on, Frankie, don't do this."

"I have to," she said. "Before things get all tangled and then ugly. This way we can still stay friends."

He shook his head in disgust. "The F word."

"Nothing wrong with the F word." She stood and smiled down at him. "Thank you for the ego boost, for the kindness and for those kisses."

He didn't smile back. In fact, he was pouting. Being a man, he'd call it brooding. Ah well, he probably wouldn't be brooding for long.

She left the restaurant, got to her car and called Viola. "You got the Hallmark channel on?"

"Of course."

"Good. I'm picking up a pizza, then I'll be right over."

Pizza and Hallmark with her bestie worked wonders. And while she watched the couple have their meet-cute, followed by trouble but ending with smiles and a kiss, she'd remember that she had, once in her lifetime, lived a Hallmark movie.

There would be no sequel.