Like a Winter Snow

by Lindsay Harrel

  Her hand flew to her mouth, trying to stop the words before they came. This was too much to share with someone she’d met only days before, wasn’t it?

  Oliver tucked an arm around Joy’s shoulder, giving her a light squeeze. A steady heartbeat thrummed beneath his chest.

  It felt even nicer than she’d imagined.

  For just a moment, she allowed herself the comfort, to lean into his embrace. Her eyes tried to peer through the sheets of rain, but Port Willis had become a blur in the deluge. It was only her, Oliver, and this lighthouse.

  A pocket of safety in the storm.

  She continued. “The thing is, I’ve always been able to see that the bad things that have happened in my life were somehow blessings in disguise. I can logically recognize that the rain falls on the evil and good alike. Even that our perception of rain and lightning can be flawed. We see only the chaos and destruction, the inconveniences, the way they ruin our plans. But fire and water, they bring life too. Refining. Rejuvenation.” Joy shook her head. “Still . . . this time, I don’t think I want what God seems to have planned for my life.”

  Oliver squeezed her shoulders tighter, resting his chin on the top of her head, and they stood like that for seconds . . . minutes . . . Joy lost track. His steady breathing anchored her as the storm slowly abated.

  Finally, he spoke. “‘None of us can see the way forward in the fog. We simply must take the next step—’”

  “And trust that the light will lead us where we need to go.” Joy craned her neck up to see Oliver. “You know The Fog Rolls In? That’s one of my favorite movies.” And it was totally obscure, a film she’d stumbled across on cable one Saturday evening a decade ago. But the story of two best friends who fall in love and then find themselves on opposite sides of a war had grabbed her attention from its first moments.

  “I don’t even own a copy of it, yet I know every word.” Oliver loosened his hold on her shoulders and looked her square in the eyes. “I can’t believe you’ve heard of it.”

  “Same.”

  “That quote has always meant a lot to me.”

  She’d opened up to him but to ask him to do the same meant something different. As a therapist, she always felt bonded to her patients after she heard their stories. And she knew what she asked next might set her up for heartache.

  But she asked it anyway. “Why?”

  He didn’t even hesitate in replying. “There have been times in my life when I didn’t know which way to turn. Everything from relationships that led me away from God, to business decisions that I feared making. I lost my first business because of that fear. It took years to rebuild, and now I have dozens of employees who depend upon me to lead them. It’s quite a responsibility and one I don’t take lightly. One I don’t always know how to navigate. But I’ve promised myself I won’t allow fear to be the reason for standing still again.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

  Good gravy. She was melting into a puddle of mush. Never in her life had she connected with a man in such an effortless way. In past relationships, it’d been like pulling teeth to get a man to open up emotionally, to share his heart—and it had certainly never happened this quickly.

  What was going on?

  She opened her mouth to respond to his vulnerability but thanking him didn’t feel quite right. What she should do is ask him to go on because she sensed there was more he wanted to tell her.

  But if she already felt this close to him after a few days, what would learning more about him, his thoughts—his feelings—do to her? Especially when they’d be going their separate ways in a little over a week?

  Joy stepped back a bit. “Oliver, I . . .” She pursed her lips. “Thank you for coming here. And for listening. But we probably should be heading back.”

  Though close to setting, the sun had reappeared as if the storm had never happened.

  Oliver frowned but nodded. He followed her down the steps and out the door, into the light.

  As they walked back to town in silence, one question poked at her. Why in this moment did the sunshine feel almost more frightening than the rain?

  Chapter 7

  Sophia’s guest room sat at the back of the tiny house, but Joy could still hear the door bell when it peeled out a jaunty version of “Jingle Bells,” the music floating down the hall and under the crack of her closed door.

  The bachelorette party was about to begin.

  Joy took a deep breath and clicked the Submit button on her laptop before she could change her mind. A confirmation popped up.

  Thank you for subscribing to job alerts in your area.

  Leaning back against the bed’s headboard, she closed her laptop, balancing it on her outstretched legs. She didn’t know where her attempt at moving forward would go, but she’d taken Sophia’s advice.

  And now, it was time to attempt to have some fun.

  With a renewed sense of gusto, Joy pushed the laptop onto the soft padding of the pillow-top mattress and stood. A quick glimpse in the mirror confirmed her mustard-yellow, high-waisted cigarette pants and tucked-in chevron knit sweater hadn’t wrinkled. Joy popped in her favorite pair of green hoop earrings and slipped on some red pumps before she dashed down the hall.

  Sophia was in the kitchen with a tall brunette clutching a suitcase. An excitement brewed between them as they spoke in hushed tones.

  The clip of Joy’s shoes against the wood floors announced her entrance and both women turned.

  The brunette, who wore a blue sweatshirt that read The London Culinary Institute, broke out in a huge grin that lit up the room as she rounded the counter and dropped her suitcase to the floor. “Joy!”

  Joy laughed, the woman’s warmth contagious. “So nice to finally meet you, Ginny.”

  They hugged as if they’d known each other for years, even though they’d never met in person. But Sophia had connected them from across the ocean.

  The bride-to-be threw her arms around them, creating a group hug. “I’m so happy to have you both here with me.”

  The hug ended and Ginny fairly bounced in her purple Chucks. “And I’m so glad to have that last course behind me.”

  “Are you almost finished with your program? You’re going to be a pastry chef, right?” Joy dug her hand into a bowl of pretzels she’d set out on the counter, along with other snacks essential for a girls night. They were just waiting for Mary—Sophia’s third bridesmaid, whose family owned her favorite pub in town—and then they’d head to dinner and come back here afterward for a movie marathon. Joy and Ginny had wanted to do more for Sophia, but she’d said what she really wanted was a quiet evening with her best friends.

  Ginny snagged a piece of fudge. “Yep. Just finished, actually, but I have a three-month internship that begins next month. Then I’m done and the sky’s the limit.”

  “I’m so proud of you.” Sophia threw her arms around Ginny. “Maybe once you’re done with that, we will see you more often, huh?”

  “I wish. That’s when the real craziness will begin. If I can do what I want, anyway.” Biting into the fudge, Ginny leaned back against the counter.

  “And what’s that?” The pretzel crunched in Joy’s mouth, the saltiness coating her taste buds.

  “I’d love to open my own bakery. I can have complete creative control. And I already have experience running a business.” She shrugged. “It seems ideal, really.”

  “I’ve been trying to convince her to do it here. The Pottery Club next door to the bookstore is closing—the owner is retiring—and it’d be perfect.”

  Ginny fidgeted and reached for a napkin. “And that sounds amazing, really. I’m just not sure what my future holds, and I don’t want to lock myself down.” She wiped her fudgy fingers.

  “And what you mean by that is . . . you don’t know what’s happening with Steven. Is that it?” Sophia poked Ginny’s arm. “Because you promised you’d keep me apprised, yet I’ve heard nada from you on the matter since the last time you vis
ited.”

  “And when was that?” Joy watched the two women, the ease they had together, and a sharp emotion ensnared her. Not jealousy, exactly. She was glad for them. It was more like wistfulness because Joy had to leave here soon but the two of them would be able to stay.

  They had the world in front of them. They’d chosen their paths. Had been transformed by them. They were free.

  Joy wanted that for herself but she shouldn’t. Because that freedom might take her away from the two people who needed her most right now. And that was a high calling. One worthy of sacrifice.

  The memory of Oliver’s arm around her the day before at the lighthouse flitted through Joy’s mind.

  She nudged it away without hesitation.

  “September.” Pushing off the counter, Ginny sauntered to the couch—only a few steps away, being that the cottage was only a thousand square feet—and sank down onto its soft blue-linen cushions.

  Joy and Sophia joined her in the living room, which was surprisingly absent of Christmas decor besides the tree in the corner. Sophia had likely used most of her personal decorations at the bookstore.

  “I would have updated you if there were anything to say. Steven has come up to see me in London several times in the last year, and I’ve come here. And I don’t know . . . I really like him. Like, I . . .” Ginny’s lips screwed up on one side, brow furrowed. “I don’t know. I may even love him, you guys. The way chocolate chips love cookie dough. But I’ve been so busy and honestly, I’m scared. He’s not Garrett, but I don’t want to make any of the same mistakes I made with him either.”

  Sophia reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. “You’re right. Steven is not like your ex-husband. And you are not the same woman you were when I met you. You know your own mind, Gin, but you’ve got to move past the fear. He’s a good man, and I’m pretty sure he loves you too.”

  “I know.” Ginny tugged at her ponytail. “I’m spending some time with him and his family for Christmas, so we’ll see how things go. Either way, I need to decide what I want to do. If I do move back here, I want it to be for me, not for him. Not this time.”

  Joy admired the strength she saw in the women in front of her. “I think it’s really wise of you to not rush things.”

  A weak smile ghosted across Ginny’s face. “Thanks. And sorry, Soph, but to be honest, I’ve been dreading this trip a little bit. As much as I’m excited to see you and William tie the knot, I know Steven and I need to have a talk. And then there’s the whole matter of seeing Garrett again. I’m guessing he’ll have his new wife with him . . .”

  At Sophia’s nod, Ginny grimaced. “Of course, I completely understand. And I’m glad that he and William have reconciled. William should have his brother at his wedding, especially since both of their parents are gone.”

  “You could have said no to coming—I would have understood—but it means the world to me that you’re here anyway.”

  “Of course, girl. You’re my best friend and William was my brother-in-law for five years. I love you both so much.” Ginny exhaled and straightened. “But enough about me. What’s going on with you guys? How are wedding plans coming?”

  As they discussed whether the color of the baby roses in Sophia’s bouquet would match the tabletop arrangements at the reception, Sophia’s phone buzzed. She read the text and frowned. “It’s Mary. She’s running late and will meet us at the restaurant. You guys ready?”

  Ginny stood and popped another piece of fudge in her mouth, swallowing quickly. “Do you mind if I freshen up a bit?” She eyed Joy and Sophia. “Next to you two, I look like a complete train wreck.”

  Sophia laughed. “You do not. But go ahead. We’re in no hurry.”

  “Five minutes. Be right back.” Ginny snatched her suitcase and took off down the hallway.

  Joy stood and wandered back to the kitchen. Ginny’s mention of chocolate chip cookies had made her hungry. She snagged a bag of “chocolate biscuits”—close enough—and pulled the tab along the top to open it. “I really like her.”

  “I’m so glad.” Sophia followed her and climbed onto one of the kitchen bar stools. “You, Ginny, and Mary are my people. I couldn’t do life without you.”

  “Yeah, we’re pretty great, aren’t we?” Joy scrunched her nose as she opened the cookies and offered the bag to Sophia, who waved it away, seemingly deep in thought. “What is it?”

  Sophia’s gaze focused in on her. “You were pretty quiet when we were talking.”

  “Just observing. Sitting back and figuring out how all the pieces fit together.”

  “Yeah, but other than when you’re working, that’s not you. You’re always the first one to dive into a conversation.” Sophia bit her lip. “Did we make you feel left out with our talk of love and relationships?”

  “Soph, no. Of course not.” Joy reached her hand into the bag, the plastic crinkling as she rummaged. Triumphant at last, she pulled an unbroken cookie from inside and took a bite. Sugar danced on her tongue and she sighed.

  “Are you sure? I know you always play it off as cool and independent, but don’t you ever get . . .” Sophia shrugged.

  “Lonely?”

  “I guess. Maybe?”

  Joy swallowed and licked the front of her teeth before she spoke again. “Look, I am really happy with where I’m at. I’ve told you that a thousand times—I’ve embraced the single life. Even like it. I have a lot more freedom to do what I want to do. Independence.” The irony of what she’d just said slapped against her cheeks as the words tumbled out. But it was true, in a way. She wouldn’t have been able to uproot her life and move across the country to be with her parents so easily if she’d had a husband, a family.

  “And anyway, I doubt I’d be able to find a man who could put up with my idiosyncrasies. I’m set in my ways. I like to stay up late watching Dr. Who one night and Pride & Prejudice the next. I’m a strange mix of vintage and modern, and I like it that way. No man would be able to figure me out. And I’m not changing. So I think I’m better off as I am—everyone’s friend. I’m good with it. Really.”

  The look that flitted across Sophia’s face personified doubt. “And what about Oliver?”

  “What about him?”

  More cookies. She definitely needed more cookies. Her fingers snagged a few from the bag, and she shoved a broken one into her mouth.

  This time, the chocolate tasted bitter.

  Sophia hopped down from the stool, took the cookie bag from Joy, and lifted an eyebrow. “That’s what I thought.”

  Chapter 8

  Eight in the morning was way too early to be up, especially after such a late night.

  But Joy couldn’t sleep. She padded in her bare feet from the guest room toward the kitchen, the wood chilling her toes. The delectable smell of coffee wafted down the hallway. Either Sophia was also awake or she’d set the automatic timer on the coffeepot.

  Rounding the corner, she discovered Ginny nursing a mug of Joe at the counter. The woman slumped forward in her seat, frowning, staring out the small kitchen window. First light trickled in, dark enough to make Joy wonder if it was going to be another cloudy day.

  She cleared her throat as quietly as possible.

  Ginny’s head shot up and pivoted, eyes wide. “Oh, Joy. Hey.”

  “Morning.” Joy walked around the counter to the coffeemaker and pulled a mug from the cabinet above. “Did you sleep?”

  “Not well.”

  Pouring herself a cup, Joy took a sip. Ahhh. Liquid clarity. “Any particular reason?” As for herself, she’d collapsed into bed at 3:00 a.m. after a huge dinner at Village Pub—an adorable nautical-themed restaurant—followed by two different chick flicks, lots of popcorn and cookies, and chatting until they were so tired they started mumbling nonsense and descending into fits of laughter unbefitting their age.

  “Oh, not much. Just the whole what-do-I-do-with-my-life-after-this stuff.”

  “So, really minor then.” Joy grinned and stood at the counter o
pposite Ginny’s seat, leaning against the gleaming granite.

  “Yeah.” Ginny cocked an eyebrow. “Why are you up so early?”

  “Kind of the same reason.”

  “Really?”

  “M-hmm.” After another sip, Joy told her about Mom and Dad, the potential of working again—she’d already received five job notifications in the last twelve hours—and even the guilt she felt over being away.

  She started to say something about Oliver too then stopped. It wasn’t the same as Ginny’s relationship with Steven. Joy had no room to commiserate. It was ridiculous to even consider.

  Because Ginny and Steven would end up together, once Ginny saw what the whole rest of the world saw—that Steven was crazy about her. He’d snuck up to their table last night during dinner to give her a hug hello and to kiss her cheek. The heat between them had sizzled more than the large stone fireplace crackling in the corner of the pub.

  But Joy and Oliver . . . even if she wanted to explore that, it really could go nowhere.

  Commiseration, no. Encouragement, she could offer. “You’ll figure it out, Ginny. You are smart and capable and have an amazing man who supports you and wants the best for you.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Ginny’s lips. “You’re right. Thanks, Joy. I’m so glad you’re here. Be praying for me today, all right? I have lunch with Steven and his parents and afterward, we’re going out to dinner. To talk.”

  Joy leaned close and wrapped her in a hug. “Absolutely.”

  “Aw, why are we hugging?” Sophia waltzed into the room, her black hair pulled back from her smiling face.

  The two separated and Ginny laughed. “I just needed some therapy, and Joy was happy to oblige.”

  It had felt good, helping someone again. “I’m always glad to listen.” She turned to Sophia. “So, what’s on the docket for today?”

  Snagging some coffee and a chocolate cookie, Sophia sat at the eat-in table. “I was going to open the bookstore at ten for a few hours. I know it’s Sunday and a lot of people don’t venture out, but since it’s the weekend before Christmas, I thought it may be a good idea to be available.”