Chapter 11

11

With the exception of Thanksgiving weekend, Natalie had Saturdays off, so Frankie was surprised and wary to see her daughter entering the shop on Saturday. She found herself holding her breath. Was she still Doo-Doo Mom?

No. Natalie smiled at her as she came up to where Frankie stood at the cash register, enjoying a rare lull in business with Adele and Elinor.

Frankie let out the breath she'd been holding. "Am I forgiven?" she asked.

"Yeah. I know you meant well, Mom. But you still should have asked me."

"You're right," Frankie admitted. "I was worried about you guys, and I wanted to help."

"I know. You already help by letting me work here part-time."

"But the shop's my dream, not yours," Frankie protested. "I want to see you spread your wings and fly."

Natalie frowned. "My wings are fine. And who says I can't share your dream? I love the shop and the good vibes here, and I love making candy, but small batches work fine for now."

Frankie nodded slowly. "For now. Down the road you could expand, you know—start selling on the internet. You could become the next Godiva."

Natalie groaned. "Aaaah, not again. Gram Gram, make her stop."

Adele held up a hand in front of Frankie's face and said, "Stop," which made Elinor giggle.

"Et tu, Elinor?" Frankie said in disgust.

Elinor sobered. "No. I really appreciate how much you've been doing for me."

"Mom can be inspiring," said Natalie. "And you know I'm voting for you for Mrs. Claus, Elinor," she added.

Elinor smiled and thanked her, and Frankie felt like saying, See? Some people appreciate my help . But she wisely kept her mouth shut. Instead, she asked, "Where's my darling grandson?"

"He and Daddy are working on their LEGO town." Natalie held up two silvery gift bags with red tissue paper peeping out of them. "I just stopped by to deliver a special present to you two." She handed them over to Frankie and Adele.

Frankie reached inside and pulled out a red T-shirt. Under an image of an unopened present, it said Merry Christmas from Next Year's Grandkid.

Frankie gave a gasp of delight and hurried to hug her daughter.

"A great-grandma again," Adele said happily, and held up her own T-shirt. Its amended message said Great-Grandkid. "Oh, baby."

"‘Oh, baby' is right," Natalie said happily. "Another reason I don't want to work full-time and have a long commute. We've waited too long for this one, and I want to enjoy it."

Elinor congratulated her, then moved off to help a customer who'd come in and was inspecting the snow globes.

"I was going to tell you guys tomorrow, but I already told Aunt Stef, so it didn't seem right to make you wait."

"You already told Aunt Stef?" Frankie repeated. Of course, Natalie could tell who she wanted what she wanted when she wanted, but being the second to hear stung a little.

"We were having a shrink session," said Natalie.

Frankie could only imagine what had been said at that shrink session and decided she didn't want to hear any more. "Well, this is the best Christmas present...since Warner," she said, and Natalie beamed. "When does present number two come?"

"August."

"That will be here before you know it. And it gives us lots of time to plan a baby shower," said Adele.

Elinor was back, their customer behind her carrying a huge snow globe with an angel at its center, and that ended the personal sharing.

"I gotta go," Natalie said. "I need to run some errands." She hugged Frankie and Adele, and then was gone.

Frankie was doing the happy dance as her daughter went out the door. "I'm going to be a second-time grandma," she informed the snow-globe purchaser.

The woman, who looked about Natalie's age, smiled. "We just had our first last March. My mom has gone berserk buying presents. I'm not bothering to get a baby's first Christmas ornament because I know she's already been in and gotten one."

"Children and Christmas, they go together like sugar cookies and milk," Frankie said. She turned to Adele. "Oh, Mom, this is the best news ever."

Here it was, her Hallmark sequel. The joy of it all kept her smiling the rest of the day.

"Want to get Chinese and stream a movie?" Frankie asked her mother later. They'd closed the shop and were walking to their cars.

"Sorry, I've got plans."

Adele was usually up for hanging out and watching a movie. "Did one of the bunco babes claim you?" asked Frankie.

"One of my friends. I'd have thought you'd be with Viola. Isn't her husband still working nights?"

"He's home sick, so they've quarantined themselves. I was going to go over there and help her paint her bathroom."

"Are you sure he's really sick? Maybe Viola's hiding from you until she can get her painting project done," Adele teased.

"Funny. Not."

Adele wrapped an arm around Frankie's shoulders. "You have a night free. Call that handsome young man and see if he wants to do something."

"That's over," Frankie said.

Adele studied her and frowned. "That was quick."

Frankie shrugged. "I knew it wasn't right."

"You didn't give it much of a chance."

"I gave it all the chance it needed."

Adele let out a frustrated breath. "Daughter dear, I understand that desire to wall yourself off, but don't give in to it. Hurt will find you no matter how careful you are, and if you spend all your life making sure you won't get hurt, you'll also deprive yourself of a lot of happiness."

"You're a fine one to talk," said Frankie.

"I know. I'm a slow learner. But don't be like me. Don't wear your widowhood like armor for the rest of your life. You're still young. You have a lot of years ahead of you. There's plenty of time for you to enjoy a second helping of love."

"I'm fine, Mom," Frankie insisted. "And now, with another grandbaby on the way, I couldn't be happier."

Adele chuckled and kissed her cheek. "One can always be happier. Call Mitch and watch a cop movie. See you tomorrow."

Frankie watched as her mother drove away. Adele had lost Dad way too early and always blamed their age difference. "Marry a younger man," she'd advised both her daughters. "They last longer."

But that wasn't true. Anything could snatch away the one you loved.

Instead of going to her car, she did an about-face and walked to Handy's Hardware. Mitch had already strung lights along her roofline for her, but now she decided she needed more. Lights around the windows. Lights on the rhododendrons sitting in front of the house. Lights. Lots of lights.

He was leaving as she walked in. "Here to see Brock?" he asked.

"No." She sounded slightly snotty and wasn't even sure why. Maybe because his question had come out sounding like some sort of taunt. "That's not going to work out." He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. "And don't say ‘I told you so.'"

He shrugged.

"I'm here to get some more Christmas lights."

"Hoping to start a brownout?" he teased.

"I'm going to put up lights on my windows."

"I can help you with that," he offered. It was so very Mitch. Always ready to help. "We can do it tonight if you want."

She realized that was exactly what she wanted. Back hanging out with Mitch, putting up more Christmas lights—all was right with the world again.

"Okay," she said.

"Pizza afterward?" he suggested.

"Pizza afterward. You get the lights, and I'll get the pizza and beer."

And just like that, she had something to do.

It felt companionable and right as they stood in front of her house, her feeding him the string of lights, him securing them.

The fresh snow that had been promised started to fall just as they finished draping the bushes. She turned on her roof lights as well, then stood on her front walk and took a picture with her phone.

"This might be my next year's Christmas card," she said, showing him the photo.

"Wait and get your family over, then it will be perfect."

"We'll have more family to include next year," she told him as they walked back inside the house. "Natalie and Jonathan are pregnant, and I'll have another grandbaby come August."

He smiled. "Nothing like kids to make life great."

Such a different attitude from Brock, who claimed not to want any. How could she ever have even contemplated being with a man who didn't enjoy children?

She put the take-and-bake pizza she'd bought in the oven, and they got out the beer.

"Here's to the new family member," Mitch said. He held out his beer, and they clinked bottles. "Next year's gonna be a good year."

"Every year's a good year when you have great family and friends," she said. "I'm glad you're mine."

She thought he'd say, Same here , but he only smiled and took a slug of beer.

"Right?" she prompted.

"You know how I feel about you."

His tone of voice sent a little shiver running through her while heating her face at the same time. She chose to ignore both. "I know," she said.

Friendship was safe, and friendship was enough.

He took another drink of his beer, then cleared his throat. "I'll always want the best for you, Frankie."

"This is best," she said.

He nodded. "Start the movie."

She did. They ate pizza and watched as the hero dodged bullets, survived car chases and solved a murder. All in a day's work. For a moment, she couldn't help wishing life was as simple as the movies.

"Don't you wish life could be like a good movie, with everything turning out perfect in the end?" she said to Mitch as the ending credits rolled.

"There's no such thing as a perfect life, but you can have perfect moments," he said.

"Very profound."

"I can be."

She smiled at him. "This is one."

He took a final swig of his beer. "It's close." Then before she could ask what he meant by that, he said, "Guess I'd better be going. Cop Stop tomorrow?"

"Of course."

She sent him home with the last two pieces of pizza and watched him drive off, his truck headlights spotlighting the gently falling snow.

Close to perfect wasn't half bad.

Frankie got her movie moments the next day after work when everyone gathered at Adele's for lasagna and cookie baking. Of course, they had to make gumdrop cookies for Warner, and sugar cookies, which he was delighted to help decorate, dumping mounds of sprinkles on each one. No one told him that, when it came to decorating cookies, less was more. When you were six, more was more.

Finally, full of lasagna and loaded up with cookies, Natalie and her family left, and Adele and her daughters settled in to enjoy a final eggnog.

"It looks like you found something to do last night," Adele observed as she scraped half the sprinkles off her cookie. "The new lights on your windows look nice."

"Mitch came over and helped me," Frankie said.

"He's the best," said Stef. "I'm surprised Brock didn't come over." Obviously, Adele had said nothing.

Discussing Brock with her sister had felt awkward ever since Frankie's matchmaking dinner-party fail, and she found herself feeling relieved to be able to share that things were not going to work out for them.

"We really are two different people," she said.

Adele shook her head. "I still think you should have given it more of a chance."

"He was too young." In so many ways.

"And Mitch is too old. Too young, too old. What are you, Goldilocks? You're never going to find a man who's just right, trust me," said Adele.

"I'm not looking for one. Honestly, Mom, this is getting old."

"And so are you," Adele retorted, determined to have the last word.

Okay, that was enough family time. Frankie took her share of the cookies and left.

"I worry about your sister," Adele said when it was only her and Stef sitting at the kitchen bar.

"She's fine, Mom. She's tough."

"I worry about you, too, kidlet."

"I'm tough, too," said Stef. Well, she was getting there.

"I want you both to be happy."

"We're not exactly miserable now, Mom."

"No, I mean really happy. Settled, with someone special in your life who cares. You both deserve that."

Stef remembered her miserable years with Richard. "I guess we don't always get what we deserve."

"I think we do eventually. Be on the watch. Your time will come."

Stef thought back to when she was a kid and could hardly get to sleep on Christmas Eve. Even when she was struggling the hardest, Adele had managed to make sure her girls had presents under the tree. Later, Stef learned that Adele had had much-needed help—a grandpa assembling a bicycle on Christmas Eve, a grandma bringing over Christmas cookies and buying treats for the stockings. All Stef had known was that Santa was coming, and waiting for him had felt like a forever task.

"He'll come, but not when you're looking for him," her grandmother had said. "Santa likes to surprise people."

Stef may have been in charge of the Letters to Santa page, but she was long past waiting for Santa to surprise her.

Except Monday morning, she was in The Coffee Stop making a midmorning coffee run when the big-girl equivalent of a perfect gift from Santa walked in.

He was tall and trim and broad-shouldered, with short red hair, wearing a coat over a gray suit and tie. He had a mouth that could probably work devastation on a woman if he smiled, but he wasn't smiling. A person shouldn't look so sober and serious in a coffee shop.

Carol was no longer a small town, but it was hardly the big city. Why hadn't Stef seen this man before? Had he fallen off Santa's sleigh somewhere on the way to Seattle? Who was he?

The moment of excitement died practically at birth. He was with another man, equally well-dressed and a little older, listening as the redheaded man talked. Were they a couple? It always seemed like the best ones were taken.

The Santa surprise took off his gloves. No ring on either hand. The older guy was checking out a younger woman who'd come into the coffee shop. Maybe they weren't a couple.

She texted Frankie. We know every single man in Carol, right? She was sure she'd dated every one.

No. Why?

Just wondering , Stef texted.

Where are you? Frankie wanted to know.

Coffee Stop.

See someone interesting?

He's with someone. I don't think they're together, though.

Say hi and find out , Frankie suggested, and added a wink.

Richard awoke from his slumbers in Stef's subconscious. Go ahead and make a fool of yourself.

Shut up , she commanded him. Maybe I feel like paying it forward , she texted Frankie.

Good idea , her sister approved.

After placing her order and paying, Stef handed over an extra twenty to Suzie the barista. "Whatever they want is on me and keep the change."

She pretended not to listen as Suzie told Mr. Just What Stef Needs for Christmas that the woman ahead of him had paid for their drinks.

Then, as she was taking hers, she was aware of him beside her. It felt like coming up against some kind of electrical field.

"Hey there."

The timbre of his voice started a buzzing in her veins. She aimed for casual as she turned to him and smiled.

He smiled in return—more of a polite smile than a flirty one. He lifted his to-go cup. "Just wanted to thank you for the pay-it-forward."

"'Tis the season," she quipped, hoping to broaden his smile.

She didn't. Polite stayed firmly in place. "So I hear."

"You only hear?" she teased. Her phone dinged from her coat pocket, signaling an incoming text. She ignored it.

He shrugged.

Her phone dinged again.

"Looks like you're popular."

"All the elves want to date me," she joked, and her phone rang.

"Guess I'd better let you get that. Anyway, thanks for the drink. Merry Christmas," he added.

She scowled at her to-go cup as he joined his friend, took his drink and then walked out the door. Pickup fail.

She pulled out her phone, ready to answer with a grumpy hello. It was Camille. She lost the grumpy.

"My computer lost your doc. I need it ASAP."

Of course she did, and since said doc wasn't on Stef's phone, she'd be hustling her hind end back to the office.

"You'll have it in ten," she said as she started out the door.

"Make it five," said Camille, and ended the call.

"Ho, ho, ho," grumped Stef. Too bad she was too old to write a letter to Santa. She'd ask him to spread a little more joy and patience around town. And to help her find the mystery man.

"She was hot," said Griff's Edward Jones partner, Jamison.

"Yeah, she was," Griff admitted.

Standing next to her, he'd felt the heat, and it had stirred up that longing for connection deep inside of him. But instead of doing anything about it, he'd stood there like a giant ice sculpture.

Given a few more minutes, maybe her smile could have melted him. She had the kind of smile that said, Come on, be happy. You can do it .

He wanted to be happy. He'd gone from mourning to moping to... What was he now? Bitter. Not all the time, not about everything. Just about the way his life had turned out.

Well, that was everything.

Except he had something important that Kaitlyn had left behind with him. He had a great kid. Who wanted Santa to bring him a mom since Dad hadn't come through.

"I bet you didn't get her number," said Jamison.

"She got a phone call. What was I supposed to do, stand there? Wait and chase her down?"

"I would have. You would have, too, if your brain wasn't frozen. Somewhere in there, you've still got it. I know. I remember you chasing Kaitlyn until the poor woman dropped at your feet."

The memory of how hard he'd worked to win Kaitlyn's love brought back happy memories. Him freezing his ass off at that caroling party when they'd first met, wishing he could sing on pitch. Sending her a big bouquet of tiger lilies for Valentine's Day...that she was allergic to. Romantic dinners out and weekends at the Hilton in Seattle that about broke his budget. A summer cruise in the San Juans.

She'd finally had him over to her place on the Fourth of July and set out a picnic for them on her balcony—sub sandwiches, fried chicken, potato salad and bottled iced tea. She told him she'd fallen in love with him the first time she heard him try to croak out "Silent Night," so he could stop with all the crazy stuff. And when was she going to get a ring?

She got one the next day.

Now here was a new woman who'd obviously been interested, and he'd missed his opportunity.

Except, tomorrow she might need a midmorning coffee break.

Maybe he would, too.

Stef had just sent off the needed document when the text from Frankie came in. Call me when you're done having coffee.

Of course, Frankie would be all excited and hopeful, sure that Stef's coffee shop encounter was a matter of serendipity. Serendipity had sure fizzled.

Done , she replied. Camille texted and I had to go and he gave up.

He sure gave up easy.

That could happen when your phone was dinging and ringing like crazy. Oh well.

Maybe he'll be back looking for coffee tomorrow , Frankie suggested.

Maybe he would. Maybe Stef would want to get some coffee at the same time tomorrow. Good idea.

I'm full of good ideas.

That she was, and some of them not so good. It would probably be best if Stef did her own matchmaking without any help from her sister. She'd try the coffee shop again the next day. If the mystery man was there, then she'd know they were meant to meet.

It looked like Stef wasn't meant to be with her coffee shop surprise. She woke up the morning after their brief encounter feeling like an eighteen-wheeler had run over her head, and she was starting to see sparklers go off to the sides of her eyes. Migraine City. There would be no trip to the coffee shop that morning.

She staggered her way to the bathroom, took a pill and called in sick. Then she lay down on her spinning bed, pulled the blankets over her face and hosted her own little pity party.

Griff just happened into The Coffee Stop at ten thirty. An older couple was seated at one of the wooden tables. In front of him, two women stood in line, one of them holding a baby. The other had a toddler hanging on her arm. It didn't look promising.

He ordered an Americano and took a seat at one of the high tables by the windows, thumbing through emails on his phone and keeping an eye on the door. An older guy he always saw when he went into the hardware store came in, along with a nice-looking woman, younger than him. The hair color was different, and she wasn't the same age, but she reminded him of the woman he'd seen the day before. Too bad she wasn't that woman.

This had been a lame idea. He took his coffee and went back to work.

And tried not to think of the pretty woman with the friendly smile and generous spirit.