by Olivia Miles
“How did you know?” she asked, staring at him in disbelief.
He just gave a modest shrug. “I noticed a near empty jar in your fridge last time I was over. And I remembered you picking up a few last year at this event.”
“Wow. Well, thank you. Take a cupcake in return. Please.” She proffered one of the plates, containing what she believed to be the best flavor of the day: cream cheese coconut, designed to look like perfect snowballs.
“I won’t say no to that,” Jeff said, taking one from the plate and putting it right to his mouth. Half the cake was gone in that single bite, whereas Tess knew for a fact that Carrie could make a cupcake last for half an hour, savoring every last morsel.
Tess laughed. She’d expected to wrap it up for him in the bakery boxes she’d bought just for the event, not have him eat it right here at the stand.
“You’re welcome to another,” she said, reaching for something else. The spice cakes perhaps. But Jeff just shook his head.
“You should be selling these, not giving them away.” He polished off the cupcake with one more bite. “And I mean that, Tess. Not just about tonight’s Holiday Bake Sale. You have a gift.”
Tess gave him a look. “So do all the women here.” He met her eyes. She thought of Mary Claire’s chewy fruit cakes. She bit back a smile. “Well, most of the women here.”
She heard Mrs. Irwin snort at the table beside her.
“I’m not just flattering you,” Jeff said, raising an eyebrow. “If I was going to flatter you, I could think of other ways than through your cupcakes.”
Her cheeks flared and she looked away, unable to respond to his words and not exactly sure how.
She straightened her already straight plates. She could see Mrs. Irwin watching this interaction as if it were a television show.
“I like to bake.” She’d give him that.
“Good,” he said, his eyes wide. “You should be doing something you like. You should be doing something that you enjoy. Something that makes you happy, Tess.”
“A hobby and a career are two very different things,” she said evenly. One paid the bills. The other did not.
“Think about it, will you? I can help, you know.”
She considered his words. It was true that he could help. He was running his own restaurant, a successful one at that, and this meant that he knew a thing about the food industry.
But what was he even implying? A bakery? A storefront of her own? She didn’t have that kind of collateral. And a catering business wasn’t enough security. She needed steady work, not more worry.
And right now, she needed to tend to her stand.
She watched Jeff walk away and disappear into the crowd, wishing for a moment that he would turn around, come back and keep her company. Thankfully, she was interrupted by Sadie Johnson, who had grown up just down the road from the Campbell house and who had occasionally invited Tess and Carrie over to swim in their pool on humid summer afternoons. Now Sadie was married with four children and looked about as exhausted as Tess felt.
For one fleeting moment, she didn’t feel quite so different than this woman who still, on paper, had everything.
“An assortment of six,” Sadie said, admiring all the options. “You know these were gone from the school pageant before I could try one.”
Pleased, Tess selected the six best and boxed them with a smile. She was still watching the crowd long after Sadie had walked away, until Mrs. Irwin leaned over across the gap between their stands.
“He’s a catch,” was all Mrs. Irwin said.
Tess had every intention of feigning confusion, asking who Mrs. Irwin was even referring to, even though the gleam in her eye was obvious. Tess had been caught. She had been looking into the crowd, and not for her sisters or even, she thought with a flicker of shame, Phoebe. She had been looking for Jeff. Thinking of Jeff.
And there he was, she noticed. Talking with Sabrina McBride, still single at age thirty-five, still beautiful too. Sabrina who had been head of the dance team in high school and now ran the studio in town and who now had a hand on his arm and was laughing at something he was saying.
Sabrina McBride couldn’t bake, not like Tess, but Sabrina McBride was carefree and fun, whereas Tess…
She blinked. Tess was a married woman. At least, she had been.
Quickly, she adjusted the bands on her ring finger and pushed away a pulse of jealousy to focus on the items on her table. She looked down at the jams that Jeff had bought just for her. Yes, she thought. He was a catch. And she wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that.
Ninety minutes later, Phoebe reappeared at the empty table, wearing a big smile. “We got so much stuff, Mommy! Like a hundred cookies!”
Tess looked over her daughter’s head at her sisters, her eyebrows raised in question. “A hundred?”
“Well, not a hundred,” Carrie said mildly at the same time Jules said, “Hey, you’ve got to support local business.”
Interesting comment for someone who had left Winter Lake first chance she had. Tess had often wondered over the years if she, too, would have settled down somewhere else if she hadn’t gotten involved with Andrew when she was so young, but she hadn’t been able to envision her future any other way. Now, she had no choice but to start imagining it differently. She rarely visited Jules or Carrie, but Phoebe might enjoy some trips to Boston and New York in the spring. And she would too, she realized.
“Did you save a cupcake for me?” Phoebe asked, searching the empty table hopefully.
“Sorry, kiddo,” Tess said. “I sold out. But I’ll make you another batch tomorrow. Though, something tells me we have more than enough sugar in those bags to last us through New Year’s.”
“A bunch of us were thinking of going over to Preston’s for a bite,” Jules said.
Tess knew that she had an easy excuse. She had a small child who needed to get to bed, even though there was no school tomorrow.
But the hope in her sister’s eye was more inviting than the thought of going home and being alone again.
“That sounds like fun,” she said, and Phoebe ran forward and hugged her tightly around the waist.
“Oh, thank you, Mommy,” she said.
Tess’s heart warmed at the sight. Since she’d sold out of her cupcakes, she gathered up her tote and empty containers and walked with her sisters to the car, where they deposited their purchased goods. She supposed that she should feel good about selling out, but the reality was that everything she’d earned had gone to pay for other people’s cookies and cakes—something she didn’t completely mind, considering it had all been part of the experience.
The restaurant was just a block away, and they hurried along. Tess holding Phoebe’s hand, Carrie and Jules linking arms. The Campbell women. Strength in numbers.
Just like they’d been as young girls, when then too, they only had each other.
Only needed each other, Tess thought. Because no matter what her sisters thought, or what she believed, she did need them. Always had. Always would.
Somehow, along the way, they’d each strayed, forgetting somehow how much stronger they were together.
They found the group easily, already seated at the table. Jeff and Cole were down at the end, having beers with one eye on the hockey game playing over the bar. Tess was relieved to see that Sabrina wasn’t with them, and then, wishing that thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, she settled into the chair farthest from Jeff, letting Phoebe take the one closest. He gave her a grin as she shrugged off her coat, and something in her stomach fluttered.
“I’m sorry about Lucas,” she said to Carrie, once they’d ordered drinks—wine for Carrie and a hot cider for her. She meant it. Not that she was sad to see him go, but because Carrie had cared for him, even if she probably shouldn’t have.
She’d always had a giving heart. Tess had decided not to remember that this past year.
Carrie’s smile was wry. “No, you’re not. But it’s okay. You have a reason to
not like Lucas, after all.”
“It wasn’t just because you didn’t come last winter,” Tess insisted. “He took you for granted.”
“Maybe,” Carrie said. “But now what do I have? No children. Maybe no hope of any. You know I always wanted a family.” She folded a straw wrapper and tossed it to the side.
“Did Lucas want that too?” Tess asked. She already knew the answer, but she wasn’t so sure that Carrie did.
“I’m not so sure that he did.” Carrie sighed.
Tess squeezed her shoulder. “Then you’re better off knowing. Better off without him. You’ll meet someone. You’ll be happy again. Happier.”
Carrie looked at peace with this. She sipped her drink, hesitating before she asked, “And you? Do you think you’ll ever be happy again?”
Tess thought about what Jules had said about Jeff. She looked over now to where he sat with Cole and Jules. He caught her stare and gave her one of his hundred-watt grins. She felt something in her stir. Affection. Gratitude. So many things.
“I have Phoebe,” Tess said firmly. “And…I don’t want to end up like Mom.”
“You won’t,” Carrie said, and Tess wished she could believe her. Somehow, hearing the words come from Carrie, she almost could.
“And you won’t either,” Tess encouraged her. “Wait for the right man to come along, Carrie. Don’t just hang onto someone who will never give you what you want most, or treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”
“I do feel better since coming back here,” Carrie admitted. “It’s strange to say that since I spent so much time away.”
Tess knew she shouldn’t care, but she couldn’t help it. She needed to know. “Was the break up with Lucas the only reason you came?”
“No!” Carrie’s brows knitted. “I mean, yes and no. I wanted to get away, out of New York. And I felt…lonely. I could have gone somewhere, but when Jules said she was coming here, I realized how nice that sounded. All of us together. For Christmas.”
“That does sound nice,” Tess agreed. And Carrie was right: it sure beat being alone. “All of us together.”
“Things will be different from now on,” Carrie said, as if she were reading a crystal ball, as if she were somehow certain of this. She’d always been the most optimistic of the three sisters, and Tess had relied on her for that. Now, she relied on it more than ever.
“Better?” Tess said. She needed to hear it.
Carrie grabbed her hand and held it tight. “Better.”
Chapter Seventeen
Carrie
Carrie woke up to sunshine streaming in through the linen curtains, filling the small room with light. She felt light, free, and it took her a moment to remember what had changed in the past day.
And then she smiled to herself, remembering that she didn’t need to feel anxious about going down the stairs to breakfast this morning. That she didn’t need to worry about making eye contact with Tess and not knowing what to say, or changing the topic while blinking back tears every time one of her sisters mentioned Lucas. That yesterday had been spent baking and laughing and even listening to a little Christmas music, at Phoebe’s insistence. That it was two days until Christmas and that she intended to enjoy it.
The only thing to dampen her spirit was the thought of Christmas coming and going. Of returning to her empty apartment in New York, where she no longer had much to look forward to, and maybe, never really had. Where she no longer had much of anything other than a low-paying job that she did at least enjoy, and Melody, of course. Still, thinking of going back made her feel empty and depressed. It reminded her more of what she’d lost than being here in Winter Lake did.
Refusing to feed into those worries right now, she pushed back the quilt and pulled open the curtains. The sun was bright in the sky and the snow on the ground seemed to glisten under its rays. If she craned her neck, she could see a view of the lake from this window—something that was typically hidden by the leaves of the big maple tree in the backyard.
She tossed on a pair of jeans and a turtleneck sweater and brushed her hair into a ponytail. As she emerged into the hallway, she heard the happy chatter of female voices down below. Jules was laughing at something, and Phoebe was chiming in excitedly, and Tess—well, Tess sounded more and more like her old self. She’d been downright cheerful at the bake sale yesterday, and they’d shared a lot of laughs last night, remaining at the restaurant until Phoebe was too tired to keep her head off the table, and then Jeff had carried her to Tess’s car and the three women had driven back to the house. They’d gathered at the kitchen table, drinking wine and chatting more once Phoebe was tucked into bed, about fond memories and antics they’d gotten away with, and about all the silly little things they used to do as girls like pull the romance novels from the shelves in the libraries and then duck into the farthest corner where they would devour them, scandalized.
“I missed this,” Carrie had said to Tess when it was finally time to call it a night.
“Me too,” breathed Tess, giving her a tired smile.
They were getting there, Carrie thought now. They’d get through this. Together.
“You guys are already dressed!” Carrie observed as she entered the kitchen. She glanced at the clock that hung on the wall near the table to see if she’d overslept. Back in New York, she was up at five every day, hitting the gym with Lucas before they both went off to work. Here in Winter Lake, she’d enjoyed not waking to the sound of her alarm, and last night, she’d actually slept through the night in a deep, dreamless sleep.
“Today’s the Christmas Festival!” Phoebe announced.
Jules grinned. “Phoebe is counting the minutes until we leave. She wants to be the first one there so she can enter the sledding races.”
Tess frowned. “So long as you’re careful.”
Phoebe disregarded the comment and smiled broadly. “We’re having cookies for breakfast,” she announced.
Carrie raised an eyebrow at Tess. That was rather relaxed for her.
Tess caught the look and hurried to say, “She had a banana already.” But she seemed to manage a smile, finding humor in her own, rigid ways.
Sure enough, in the center of the table was a plate of assorted cookies that they’d selected last night at the bake sale. Carrie swiped a crinkle cookie and said, “Do I have time for coffee at least?” She supposed they would have some at the festival, but she knew she was in for a long day and needed all the help she could get.
“Only if you hurry,” Tess warned. “Because—”
“Phoebe wants to do the sledding races,” Carrie finished, grinning. She grabbed a mug and filled it within an inch of the rim.
“Don’t forget!” Phoebe warned, wagging her finger sternly even as a giggle escaped her.
“You know, those sledding races remind me of when we were kids.” Carrie added a splash of milk from the carton that was still on the counter. “Your mom and I used to race together,” she told Phoebe, who responded with a look of astonishment.
“My mother entered the sledding race?” Phoebe looked at her with such shock, that even Tess laughed.
“Oh, sure,” Carrie said, pulling up memories of Tess bundled up in her red winter coat she seemed to have worn for half her childhood before it was passed down, briefly, to Carrie, and then, later, to Jules, who probably wore it until it fell apart. “She was in charge of steering. I was in charge of the running start at the top.”
“Sometimes you’d miss the sled when you tried to jump on.” Tess lifted an eyebrow and they both burst out laughing. “Do you remember that time you face-planted at the top of the hill and almost got run over by Billy Harding and his brother on their toboggan?”
“I still have a scar under my chin as proof!” Carrie remarked, pointing to it, but she was laughing too. She turned to Phoebe, and Jules, who seemed to be listening with scrutiny. “We used to count down at the top, backwards, from three. Tess would even use her hands for extra power to push off.”
&
nbsp; Tess’s eyes lit up at that memory. “I think we got our technique from watching the luge event in the Olympics that one year.”
“I wish I could remember that,” Jules said, looking a little sad.
“Oh, you were there,” Carrie said. “It wasn’t like you had a bedtime or anything.” None of them had. Their mother was overwhelmed at best, too weary for structure or discipline. Even when she was in a better mood, working, in her studio, she often got too immersed in her furniture making to think about practical matters. “You used to cheer us on from the bottom.”
She caught Jules’s frown and reached out to give her shoulder a little squeeze. “Everything okay?” Jules had been quiet last night too, saying little as they reminisced about the past.
“Just happy to see you two getting along again,” Jules said lightly. She grinned up at her and took a long swig of her coffee.
Carrie looked over at Tess. “Just like old times,” she sighed.
Jules didn’t meet her eye as she stood up from the table. “Yep. Just like old times.”
Carrie watched Jules leave the room, wondering what she meant by that, but one look from Phoebe told her that now wasn’t time to ask.
“When can we go to the festival?” Phoebe asked impatiently.
Carrie glanced at Tess who shrugged and said, “Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’ll just grab my scarf from upstairs,” Carrie said. She swiped another cookie and popped it into her mouth.
“Don’t forget your phone in case you want to take a picture of me winning the race!” Phoebe said, smiling broadly.
Tess shook her head, chuckling, and Carrie laughed. “Yep. Competitive.” She left the kitchen and patted her empty back pocket. Normally she kept her phone in her hand or pocket at all times, always anxious to hear it ping, or check the screen just in case she’d missed the sound. In case Lucas was trying to reach her. But today she’d left it upstairs on the desk in the spare room.
She was present. And free. And…happy.
She went upstairs, grabbed her scarf, and picked up her phone, not thinking much of the blinking light in the corner. She clicked on the screen while she wandered back into the hall, and froze when she saw the message on the screen.
