Country Wishes

by RaeAnne Hadley

  “I’m good, Clyde,” she said. He looked at her dubiously but closed the door.

  Once inside her studio, she contemplated her options. Rob was too tall to put on the little love seat she used as a couch. She finally dragged him into the little curtained-off alcove that served as her bedroom. She hadn’t made up her bed, but at least she’d washed the linens the day before.

  She pulled off his shoes and socks and removed his belt.

  She went into the bathroom and carefully hung up her black dress before changing into the sweat pants and t-shirt she slept in.

  Curling up on the love seat with her feet propped on the arms, she finally fell asleep.

  The Day After the Party

  Kara woke just before her phone alarm went off. She heard the sound of snoring coming from the alcove. Rob was still dead to the world. She glanced at her phone and saw it was five-thirty. Time to head for the bakery.

  Kara debated whether to wake him up, but in the end decided to just leave him a note. Fortunately, the little desk that doubled as her chest of drawers was in her little “living room” so she pulled fresh underwear out and got dressed for work.

  Grabbing the only piece of paper she saw—a stray Christmas card—she wrote him a note:

  “I had to go to work. Just close the door behind you. It’ll lock. Your car keys are on top of the stove. There’s juice in the fridge and bread and peanut butter too, if you want to eat something.—K

  There were already customers in the bakery as she arrived. Bernie was behind the counter pouring coffee and ringing up sales of gingerbread men and caramel swirl brownie bites.

  “Where’s Ms. Woo?” she asked.

  “She got a last-minute order for a couple of pumpkin rolls,” Bernie said, “so she’s downstairs.”

  Kara reached for her pink apron and slipped into the canvas flats she wore while working so her feet wouldn’t sweat.

  “Thanks for holding the fort Bernie,” she said.

  “No problem,” he said, and went over to the corner table that he’d staked out as his own.

  He was sipping his second cup of coffee when Rob showed up, snow on his dark hair and a look of panic in his eyes.

  “I need your help,” he said brusquely to Kara, with no apology for the night before.

  “Good morning Robert,” Bernie said severely.

  Rob had the grace to blush. “Excuse me, Mr. Park. Good morning.”

  “Humpf,” Bernie said and went back to reading something on his phone.

  “Help with what?” Kara said, wondering how Rob managed not to have really foul breath after what he’d had to eat and drink the night before.

  “Did you use my toothbrush?” she asked.

  “There was a new one in your bathroom drawer.”

  “You went into my bathroom drawer?” Kara asked, horrified at the violation of her personal space.

  “I’ll get you another one,” he said.

  “That’s not the point,” he said.

  Ms. Woo came back upstairs then balancing a tray with pumpkin rolls and a couple of loaves of cranberry nut bread.

  She gave Rob and Kara a glance and went behind the counter to make some cheese sandwiches in case anyone came in looking for a quick lunch. Bernie joined her and they conversed in hushed voiced.

  Rob flicked a glance in their direction and leaned closer to Kara. “I’m really sorry about last night,” he said.

  “Yeah, what was up with that?” Kara said.

  “Most of the girls…women…I date are usually looking to network at parties like that.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” Kara said.

  “It won’t happen again,” he said.

  “Good,” she said.

  “Your bed is very comfortable,” he said and Bernie and Ms. Woo both glanced over.

  “Rob,” Kara said.

  “Sorry,” he said, not really sounding sorry at all and grinning at her. She could feel herself blushing.

  “So are you hungry?”

  “No, I had some peanut butter toast.”

  Kara felt oddly gratified to hear that. “I need your help with Christmas shopping,” he said.

  “The Internet is your friend,” she said, abruptly annoyed again.

  “I have no idea what to get for anyone.”

  Seriously? Kara thought, but when she saw his earnest face, she relented.

  “Your sister would kill for a facial and a gift certificate to Sephora,” she said. His younger sister Avery had a very bad case of teenage acne and was so self-conscious about it, she tried to hide her face behind a curtain of hair.

  “How do you know my sister?”

  “She comes in a lot with her friends from school.”

  “A facial?”

  “Trust me.”

  “Okay,” he said, and made a note on a checklist on his phone. “What about Eleanor.”

  “You want some coffee?” Kara asked.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said, and sat down while she went to the counter and poured him a cup.

  “Sugar?” Ms. Woo asked, making a face like, what does he want?

  “Rob likes his coffee black,” she said. Turning back to his table, she asked. “Would you like a cookie with that?”

  “It’s ten in the morning,” Bernie said.

  “Sure,” Rob said, ignoring him. “Do you have any peanut butter cookies? Those ones with the cross-cross pattern?”

  “Of course we have those,” Kara said, “it’s one of Ms. Woo’s signature holiday cookies.” Her boss smiled at her.

  Kara pulled out two cookies with a tissue and plopped them on a plate.

  They were still slightly warm, slightly under-baked.

  “These are so good,” Rob said, biting into one of them.

  “I know. I think they’re even better with hot chocolate.”

  “You don’t drink coffee?”

  Kara shrugged. “Never developed the taste for it.”

  Rob demolished one cookie and took a big bite out of the next. Kara wondered if she should have given him three cookies.

  “I really could use your help,” he said. “I’ll pay you extra.”

  She looked at Bernie and Ms. Woo, hoping they hadn’t overheard.

  “Okay, fifty dollars and a gift certificate to Sephora for me too.” Kara said, somewhat annoyed about his offer to pay. She would have helped him for free. She bought drugstore makeup, but she’d signed up for Sephora’s newsletter on a whim and there were products that tempted her to splurge all the time. If he was going to pay her, she was going to get what she wanted.

  “Done,” he said. “Eleanor.”

  “She’s the petite redhead I saw with your dad last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jewelry,” Kara said without hesitation. “You’ll probably have to pay through the nose for expedited shipping, though.”

  “I have no idea what her tastes are.”

  “Really?”

  “She’s not my wife,” he protested and that stopped Kara.

  “Does she want to be?”

  “What?”

  “Did she ever try to seduce you?” Kara didn’t know why she was asking such a personal question.

  “No,” he said. He saw the look on her face and repeated his denial. “No,” he said, more forcefully.

  “Okay,” she said. She pulled out her laptop and set it on the table between them. Powering it up, she logged onto Tiffany.com. She surfed quickly through the items until she came to a minimalist necklace that was a simple circle of onyx mounted in rose gold surrounded with a ring of round brilliant-cut diamonds. “This,” she said. “Simple enough she could wear it in a business situation but also bling-y enough to accessorize a little black dress.”

  Rob glanced at the price tag and didn’t flinch at the four-figure price tag. “Okay,” he said. “Can I borrow your computer?”

  “Go for it,” she said and stood up to greet a couple who’d come in to buy a box of mini blueberry muffins. By the time she
’d sent them on their way with a complimentary bag of cookies unlikely to sell by closing time, Rob had finished his transaction.

  “Done,” he said.

  “Good job,” she said, but not in a mean way.

  ‘Don’t ridicule me,” he said. “I’ve never done this before.”

  “Who usually shops for you?”

  “My father’s assistant.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  It was Rob’s turn to shrug.

  “What does he get her for Christmas?”

  “You’re going to think it’s awful.” Kara just looked at him expectantly. “He gives her cash.”

  To his surprise, she said, “Cash is awesome. Cash is the best bonus. It always fits, it’s always the right color.”

  “I didn’t think you’d approve because it’s not personal.”

  “Rob, people can always use money to buy what they really want. My mom used to be an English teacher and every year parents would give her a set of mugs or a big box of specialty teas. We had sooo many mugs.”

  “What did you do with them?”

  Kara smiled. “We’d usually fill them with candy and regift them, although one-year mom copied out a recipe for making cake in a mug and put that in with the mugs.”

  “You can make cake in a mug?”

  “Cake, pie, lots of things. A microwave oven is a wonderful thing to have. Though you can’t really make cinnamon toast in one.”

  “I had a nanny who used to make cinnamon toast,” Rob said. “I thought cinnamon toast was the best.”

  “It is,” Kara agreed. “Especially when it’s kind of caramelized on the edges but still soft and buttery in the center.”

  They shared a smile and Kara was the one to break it off. “Who else?” she asked.

  I need a gift for my grandmother.”

  “What does she like to do?”

  “Make my father miserable.”

  Kara laughed. Rob finished his cookie. “Your grandmother,” Kara prompted.

  “I don’t know. She’s got pretty simple tastes and she’s set in her ways. She’s worn the same color of nail polish since before I was born.”

  “Let me guess,” Kara said. “It’s a pale pink called ‘Ballet Slipper.’”

  “How did you know?”

  “It’s the color the Queen of England wears.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  Kara shrugged. “I spend a lot of time online.”

  “Reading stories about the royals?”

  “It distracts me from bad news,” she said. “Although I liked Harry better without the beard.”

  She thought for a minute. “Does your grandmother like to read?”

  “She did, but she’s having trouble with her eyes, so it’s hard for her.” Kara looked at him in disbelief.

  “So she doesn’t have an ereader?”

  “Why would she if she doesn’t read?”

  “Because you can adjust the size of the letters when you’re reading an ebook.”

  Rob looked clueless. “She’d never go for that.”

  “Are you sure? They’re really easy to use.”

  “She doesn’t like gadgets.”

  “But she likes to read?”

  “If they’re so good, she would have gotten one for herself,” he said.

  “Maybe not,” Kara retorted. There are a ridiculous bunch of options out there. Maybe she felt overwhelmed. Get her this year’s Kindle Oasis. It’s got backlighting and it’s waterproof in case she likes reading in the bathtub.”

  “She won’t like it,” he said. “It took me three hours to teach her how to attach a document to an email.”

  “Maybe she didn’t think she’d ever need to attach a document to an email, so it didn’t seem important to her,” Kara said. “But if she likes to read….”

  Rob was shaking his head, but Kara just rolled over his objections. “And then pay for a year of eReader Unlimited for her, so she can read everything she wants without actually buying it.”

  “You mean pay to borrow books?”

  “She can keep them as long as she wants.”

  “How much is it?” he asked.

  “I have no idea, but probably around $10 a month. You can afford it.”

  “You’re awfully cavalier about spending my money.”

  “You asked for my help,” Kara said, and got up to get the coffee pot. Bernie and Ms. Woo had headed back down to the bakery.

  She poured Rob another cup of coffee. “Who else is on your list?”

  He had five more people on his list and the only one who stumped her was his young cousin Leo.

  “Tell me about Leo,” she said. “How old is he?”

  “My aunt adopted him when he was five,” Rob said, mentally counting back, “So he’s eight now.” He gave her a look. “He’s kind of a weird kid.”

  Kara sighed. “So not helpful. Do you like him?”

  Rob thought about that. “He’s really smart,” he said, “but he never shuts up.”

  “What does he talk about?”

  “Food. He’s obsessed with food. His goal in life is to start a restaurant.”

  “Is he a good cook?”

  “Yeah, he is. He has his mom watch Chopped and then buy all the ingredients the chefs use to make their dishes. And then he’ll create his own dishes in the same time frame and Angela and her friends will judge them.”

  “I’ve never watched Chopped,” Kara admitted.

  “The premise is that three chefs will get a basket of mystery ingredients that don’t really go together, and they have to use them to make an appetizer, an entrée, and a dessert. Some of the combinations they get are wild.”

  “So foodie wannabe chef,” Kara said. “Cooking gadgets.” Her first thought was one of those tiny blow torches she’d seen Ms. Woo use to finish the tops of the little crème Brule’s she sold. It was pretty easy to manage but she could only imagine the lack of enthusiasm the boy’s mother would show.

  She wracked her brain to think of a gadget that would be useful but also not dangerous for an eight-year-old to manage.

  “I’ve got it,” she said. “Get him a sous vide machine.”

  Rob looked clueless. “Sous vide?”

  “It’s a method of cooking,” she said. I’ve had fish cooked in one and it was delectable, and I don’t even like fish very much. Check and see if your aunt has one.”

  Rob looked skeptical but he pulled out his phone and hit a number on speed dial. Kara liked that he had his aunt on speed dial. It meant his family was close, even if they were dysfunctional.

  “Hey Angela,” he said when his call went through. “This is kind of a weird question, but do you have a sous vide machine?”

  He listened for a minute. “Really? That’s perfect then. I’ll see you on Christmas Eve.”

  His aunt said something that made him grimace.

  “Yes, my fiancée will be there.” He ended the call and looked at Kara.

  “Word travels fast,” Kara observed.

  “You have no idea,” he said. “Once dad got married again, she transferred her attention to me.”

  “Does she work in the family business?” Kara asked, since there’d been no mention of Angela’s husband.

  “She’s a shareholder,” Rob said. “But my grandfather was an old school sexist. Didn’t think women could run a company.”

  Kara could tell Rob wasn’t comfortable talking about the topic, so she typed the key words “Best sous vide machines” into the search bar of her browser. She quickly scrolled through the options and stopped on …

  Anova Precision Cooker Nano. Wirecutter rated it the best and it’s only $100. You can get it on online or at Walmart.”

  She angled the laptop toward Rob so he could type in his payment information.

  “Thank you so much,” he said when he was done. “You saved my life.”

  She smiled at him. “Christmas shopping is fun,” she said.

  “If you say so,” he sa
id.

  “Bah humbug,” Ms. Woo said as she emerged from the door to the basement with Bernie trailing behind her.

  “You want to grab some dinner later?” Rob asked. “My treat to make up for last night.”

  Kara was tempted but knew it was going to be a busy night. “Can I get a rain check?” she asked.

  Rob looked disappointed. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll see you Christmas Eve.”

  “I look forward to it,” Kara said, and realized she meant it.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Rob said to Bernie and Ms. Woo as he left.

  “So? Ms. Woo asked.

  Kara pretended not to have heard the question and then pretended she didn’t see Bernie nudge her boss in the ribs.

  Christmas Eve

  Rob had told her that the dress code for the family tree-trimming party was “casual,” but Kara wasn’t sure she believed him. She’d seen a movie once where Goldie Hawn was invited to what she thought was a beach party only to arrive and find everyone else was dressed up. She decided on skinny black jeans and a cranberry colored velour “sweater” that swirled over her hips in a way that was really flattering. She had a pretty little garnet bead bracelet she’d bought on Etsy with a gift card Ms. Woo had given her for her birthday and put on the same tiny gold ring earrings she’d worn to the country club p arty. “Minimalist,’ she decided, was the best way to go. There was no way she could out-dress Rob’s relatives and friends.

  She met him at the curb with several boxes filled with cookies—chocolate and cinnamon and apricot rugelach, assorted sugar cookies, snickerdoodles, and Ms. Woo’s signature Mexican chocolate cookies,

  Rob’s eyes lit up when he saw the pink boxes with the black Chinese characters for Good Wish Bakery.

  “Cookies?”

  “Cookies,” Kara confirmed.

  “You’re the best,” he said. On the way to his parents’ house, she and Rob talked about who would be there, and the person who sounded most intriguing was his Granpa Jim.

  “He’s your mother’s father?”

  “No, he’s my grandmother’s second husband.” He glanced at her. “He reminds me a lot of Bernie,” he said. “I think you’ll like him.”

  “If he reminds you of Bernie, I’m sure I will,” she replied.