Gingerbread and Good Tidings
By Kris T. Bethke
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2020 Kris T. Bethke
ISBN 9781646566471
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
All rights reserved.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
For my BFF, this one is for you. Because you demanded it.
* * * *
Gingerbread and Good Tidings
By Kris T. Bethke
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Epilogue
Chapter 1
“I need that meeting with Mercer set for some time next week. The earlier, the better. Make it happen, Cody.”
I nodded, making a note in the app I had up on the second screen, then turned my attention back to my boss. Having a Zoom meeting every morning was not ideal, but we’d made it work since almost the beginning of the year. Josiah Campbell cared about his employees more than he did about making money, but since he cared a great deal about that, too, he’d found a way for us to all keep working remotely.
“If he insists on face to face, you know my requirements,” Mr. Campbell said, his voice a little weary. The fact was, Mr. Campbell had thrived in the virtual world and realized he could get a lot more done.
The world had already been leaning toward a more fully virtual workplace. Our current situation with the global COVID pandemic, though, better than it had been in March, had sped up that process. Mr. Campbell was on board. And though I missed seeing other people on the regular, I was more than happy with working from home. It had taken some adjustments, but I’d found I could quite easily do my work as an administrative assistant without being in the office.
“All right.” Mr. Campbell’s voice broke into my wandering thoughts, and he gave me a small smile. “Anything else?”
“Arthur Commack has been quite insistent about a meeting, sir. He emailed four times last week, and already again this morning.”
Part of my duties were to screen the boss’s emails. His business account went to me first, and I organized it by priority before he logged in. It had been that way for three years now, and I still remembered the pride that had filled me when he’d assigned me to take over that particular task. It was the moment I knew he trusted me implicitly and that I’d become indispensable.
Mr. Campbell groaned and muttered something that suspiciously sounded like “pretentious gasbag.” I hid my amusement. Commack was one of our worst and most demanding clients, and insisted on dealing with Mr. Campbell directly. Mr. Campbell had long ago moved solely into the president and CEO position, and for the most part, no longer met with clients. But Commack had a lot of money, and he was privileged and demanding because of it. Mr. Campbell didn’t let him get away with it much—which I was grateful for—but he had to weigh the fact that Commack brought a lot of money into the firm.
“I don’t want to see him,” Mr. Campbell finally grumbled. Then he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Find out exactly what he wants and then assure him we’ll set up a meeting.”
I kept the smirk off my face from years of practice. “Yes, sir.”
“Is that it?”
“That’s all I have,” I said after double-checking my list. “Unless you have anything else for me?”
Mr. Campbell shook his head. He trusted me to know what needed doing, and come to him only if there were issues or something that needed his immediate attention. I’d had five years to perfect the art. I knew what I was doing and I appreciated his confidence in me.
“That’s it for this morning. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up. But now. You have to make up for ending today’s meeting with Arthur Commack. Where’s our girl?”
I chuckled and pushed back from my desk, turning to locate Pippa. Unsurprisingly, she was on the couch, her big head hanging over the arm and looking for all the world like I’d betrayed her. She had a really expressive face.
“Come here, Pip, and say ‘hi.’” Immediately she jumped down, her solid body making a thump as it hit the hardwood floor. But when she popped up to put her front feet on the edge of the desk, her face broke into that pittie smile, her tongue hanging out, as Mr. Campbell cooed over my dog.
I scratched behind her ears and let them have their moment. It had become a morning ritual over the past few months. Mr. Campbell had been shocked to learn I had a pit bull, since he believed the hype and the misinformation about them. Pits were some of the sweetest dogs I’d ever known, and Pippa was sweeter than most. She’d been a rescue, but fortunately she’d only been a baby and hadn’t been used to fight or as bait. She came home with me at twelve weeks, and she’d been my big baby ever since.
Meeting concluded, I sent Pippa to get her sweater and pulled off mine. I’d put on the blue cable-knit to look presentable for the meeting, but I much preferred the comfort of my fleece-lined hoodie. Another benefit of working from home was the comfortable clothes.
My girl needed a walk before I got sucked into work for the day. She used to get them in the early mornings, but we both preferred to sleep until the last possible moment so she was just as glad as I was that we got extra time. Pippa trotted into the living room with the sweater my friend Maddie had knitted her clutched in her mouth. When it got this cold—the weather app said it was only fifteen degrees this morning—I always gave her a little extra protection. She refused to wear the booties I’d gotten her to protect her feet, but she was fine with the fuzzy purple sweater. I’d take what I could get and keep the walk short.
Pippa sat like a good dog and lifted her paws so I could pull on the sweater and get it zipped up, only giving an impatient huff as I fiddled with her harness to get it to fit comfortably over the sweater. Once she was set, she trotted to the door and sat patiently while I bundled up.
Two circles of the block later, we were back inside. She’d done her business, I’d cleaned it up, and we were both chilled to the bone. It hadn’t snowed overnight, but we’d had a good amount fall over the past week. Though sidewalks and roads were clear, it was piled on lawns and curbs, which gave everything a hushed, winter wonderland feeling.
I hummed a Christmas carol as I got myself and Pippa out of our outerwear. Then flicked on the twinkle lights so the tree lit up. With just four days left until Christmas, I wanted all cheer all the time. Another bonus of working from my bungalow was that I got to be surrounded by all my decorations and holiday cheer twenty-four-seven.
I loved the holiday season. Abso
lutely loved it. Starting with Thanksgiving and going straight through to New Year’s. It made me happy in a way few other things did. And this year, because of limited socialization, I went all out in my home. The tree—though fake, it looked nearly real—was packed full of every ornament I owned and a bunch more that I’d ordered over the past couple of months. I had mistletoe hanging in the doorway and boughs of holly and evergreen strategically placed. Twinkle lights on the tree and draped on walls. Scented candles to bring in the smells of the season as well as give my place a warm glow, and other battery-operated ones to add to the feeling.
But my pride and joy was my gingerbread people collection. I had tons of ornaments depicting the cookies in various activities, but it didn’t stop there. I had ceramic and porcelain figurines placed in various spots, stuffies that had a place of honor in my wide window ledge and on the couch, and glasses, mugs, and tableware that I used exclusively throughout the month. I thought they were adorable, and I couldn’t resist adding to my collection if I saw something that caught my eye.
I let out a little sigh as I raked my gaze through the room. It just made me happy and content to see all the decorations. Pleased and joyous, I tapped my phone until my Christmas playlist filled the air, and got down to work.
* * * *
Somehow, Mr. Campbell had accidentally scheduled himself for two meetings at the same time, one in person and one online. I was in the process of sorting out that mess and trying to reschedule when Pippa lifted her head and let out one, single booming bark. Two seconds later, the doorbell rang. I jumped up and tried to beat her to the door, but of course, she was faster than me. I pushed her back and snapped my fingers.
“Go lay down.” A lot of people were afraid of pits, and I didn’t want to scare whoever was at the door. At least not at first. I didn’t generally get door to door salespeople or a missionary, and certainly not during fifteen degree weather when it was still practice to socially distance.
I peeked through the window beside the door and saw someone holding a familiar-looking box. Or at least the logo on top of the white box was familiar. I knew the rainbow and the script, but what I couldn’t figure out was why someone I didn’t know was standing on my porch holding said box.
Cautiously, I opened the door, and the young man gave me a bright smile. “Cody Schaefer?”
“That’s me,” I confirmed, still keeping the door between us, only cracked wide enough to see each other clearly.
“Delivery. Enjoy!”
I took the box he practically shoved at me, and returned his wave. But I was confused. I hadn’t ordered anything from Pounds and Grounds, so this had to be sent from someone. But who? There was only one way to find out.
I set the box on the kitchen counter, then grabbed scissors to cut the string tied around it. I opened the lid slowly, as if I expected it to explode, but gasped when I saw the personal-sized cheesecake that looked utterly mouthwatering. Next to it was a bone-shaped cookie wrapped in plastic. And taped to the inside lid was an envelope. I snatched it off the lid and practically ripped into it.
Good Tidings, Cody,
Here’s hoping this brings you extra holiday cheer. It took some doing, but a gingerbread cheesecake seemed like something you would enjoy. And since we can’t leave Pippa out, a cookie made especially for her, though with pumpkin instead of gingerbread. May the day be merry and bright. Happy Holidays.
It was not signed. I turned over the card, looking to see if, perhaps, it was there, but nope. Nothing. I didn’t recognize the handwriting either, but that meant nothing since someone from the café could have written it.
Part of me was so touched, so pleased, that someone had thought of me, knew what I liked, and thought to send it to me. But the other part was a little creeped out since it wasn’t signed. Why did this person want to remain anonymous? It was clearly someone who knew me, not only because it was a treat containing my favorite holiday flavor, but also because they knew my dog by name.
I stared at the contents of the box for a long time, wondering who had sent it. My first instinct would have been Mr. Campbell, because that was the sort of thing he’d do for his staff. But he didn’t know about my penchant for gingerbread, and besides, he’d already gifted the entire staff with the end-of-year bonus, which he felt was more fitting for a company like his. It had to be one of my friends, but none of them seemed like the type. Or those who would, wouldn’t have hesitated to sign their name.
I grabbed my phone, opened the group text thread, and tapped out a message…
Cody: I got a mysterious package, gingerbread cheesecake that looks amazing. But no one signed the note, so who sent it?
It took only seconds for the replies to start pouring in. We’d once used the thread to plan our outings and get-togethers, but now it was primarily a way we kept in touch with one another.
Maddie: aww that’s so sweet! You have a secret admirer!
Cooper: are you crazy?? Get rid of it! It’s probably poisoned!
Rick: you can’t eat something someone sent if they won’t take credit. Who knows what it contains. Throw it out right now.
Maddie: come on! It’s sweet. Don’t be paranoid.
Lisa: I agree with the guys, don’t eat it. It’s dangerous.
Scott: probably not. Amy and I think you should enjoy it. It’s a nice gesture.
Jason: did it come from a reputable source?
I decided the only one who was being rational was Jason, so I replied to his question and no one else.
Cody: yep. Pounds and Grounds.
Jason: I like that place. And did the delivery person seem legit?
Maddie: they have the best pumpkin rolls I’ve ever eaten
Cooper: still could be fake.
I rolled my eyes, ignoring everyone else.
Cody: Yes, Jason. Had on the cap they all wear and there was the logo on the car at the curb. I know they started doing delivery back in April or so.
Jason: you could check with the café, make sure they sent it, if you’re really worried. But I think you’re fine.
Everything in me relaxed. Why hadn’t I thought of that? It wasn’t that I was really worried about where the cheesecake had come from, but there was a small part of me that knew it was potentially dangerous to just…eat something when I wasn’t sure who sent it.
I didn’t know Jason all that well. He was a friend of Cooper’s, and Coop joined our group only after he and Maddie got close at work. But they’d been around for a few years now, and I liked them both. Jason was quieter than Cooper, though, so it was harder to get to know him. But I wasn’t surprised he was the only one of the bunch who had responded practically. He always seemed to have a level head, and was the one that reined us in if we got too out of control, though that didn’t happen too often.
The thread blew up again, with everyone chiming in with their thoughts. I glanced at it briefly, but didn’t bother reading the responses. It seemed to have turned into a war of one side trying to convince the other about whether or not my delivery was safe. I muted the notifications on the thread for now, then searched for the number of the café and called in.
“Pounds and Grounds, this is Joshua. How may I help you?”
“Hi. My name is Cody Schaefer. I just received a delivery.”
Joshua made a small, distressed sound. “Was there something wrong? Taylor was careful with the cheesecake, wasn’t he?”
And the last bit of worry melted away. “Oh, no. He was very careful and it arrived in perfect condition. I just want to make sure it was actually from your café.” And then realizing how that sounded, and not wanting to accuse anyone of anything, I quickly added, “I wasn’t aware you had gingerbread cheesecake, is all.”
Joshua laughed. “It’s new this season. With so much of our business being delivery instead of in person, our head baker has been experimenting. I hope you enjoy it.”
“I’m sure I will. Thanks so much!”
After hanging up, I didn’t hesitat
e to dive in. Grabbing a fork, I ate it straight from the box, moaning when the flavors hit my tongue. It was the perfect combination of gingerbread spice and creamy cheesecake. I swear I could taste the ginger, cinnamon, and cloves individually. Before I realized it, I’d eaten half of it, and came out of my baked good induced stupor only when Pippa nudged me.
“Look, Pips! Someone sent us goodies!” I put down my fork and unwrapped her treat, then gave it to her. She gently took it, gave me the side eye, then trotted into the other room so she could eat in peace. A moment later, I heard the distinctive crunch as she chomped down.
I resumed eating, too, even though an entire cheesecake was a terrible lunch, despite it being a quarter of the size of a normal one. I thoroughly licked my fork when I was done.
I couldn’t stop grinning. That definitely put an extra pep in my holiday step, what with all the appropriate flavors and scents. I hummed happily and wished I knew who to thank. But for whatever the reason, my gingerbread angel didn’t want to be identified. So all I could do was take it in the vein it was intended and let it lift my holiday spirits.
Full and happy, I turned up my music and went back to work.
Chapter 2
I wasn’t anticipating a second delivery. But the next day, as I was responding to a chunk of emails Mr. Campbell didn’t have time for and were inquiries for general information, the doorbell rang again. Pippa was already standing guard by the time I got there, and I sent her to lie down before I opened it.
The same young man, with the same grin, stood there waiting. He held up the box, and added an eyebrow waggle as he pushed it in my direction.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Schaefer! Hope you enjoy.”
He bounded down the steps, and I was glad I’d salted this morning before taking Pippa for her walk, or he would have definitely ended up on his ass. I called a thank you to him, and he threw a jaunty wave over his shoulder. I chuckled at his enthusiasm, and headed into the kitchen.
Pippa trailed behind and leaned heavily against my leg as I quickly opened the box. I couldn’t wait to see what was inside. The smell of ginger, chocolate, and cinnamon assaulted me as soon as I lifted the lid, and my mouth immediately began to water.
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