by Olivia Miles
“So what is it, then? Did something happen?”
Jane rubbed her hands over the surface of the table, stretching out her long, thin fingers. She slumped over, idly playing with the chip of an engagement stone that sat on her left hand. “It’s Adam,” she said eventually, so quietly that Grace had to strain to hear.
Grace narrowed her eyes in concentration. “Adam?” she repeated. “Is he okay?”
“No, he’s fine. I’m the one who isn’t fine.”
Grace drew a sharp breath, feeling the frustration fill her chest. She sat back in her chair, staring levelly at her sister. “Jane, you’ve lost me. What the hell is going on?”
Jane hesitated, wavering over something. “It’s nothing,” she finally said.
Grace eyed her. “I don’t believe you.”
“Then don’t.” Jane shrugged as her frown deepened.
Grace softened her stance. Speaking more gently, she urged, “Jane, you’re visibly upset, and you’ve told me you’re not fine. You’re not sick, so that means something else is going on. If you don’t want to tell me, I understand. You should talk to someone. I can call Anna or Mom—”
“No!” The insistency in Jane’s voice caused Grace to freeze and she stared at her youngest sister, refusing to back down.
Jane slumped back in her chair, pouting. “Adam and I had a fight last night. That’s all.”
“Well, married people must fight all the time,” she offered, but Jane just glared at her.
She shook her head. “It’s not like that, Grace. It’s more serious than that.”
Grace studied Jane across the table, noticing the weariness in her shoulders, the emptiness in her eyes. She knew that look. The look of the hopeless. The look she had seen in her own eyes one too many times. It was the look of knowing exactly what you wanted in life, and having no control as it was taken from you.
“Do you think you’ll be able to work it out?” she asked quietly, hoping this was a safe question, one that would bring her one step closer to understanding Jane’s situation without upsetting her sister further.
Jane swallowed. Her nose had turned bright red, and she pulled a balled-up tissue from the pocket of her robe and swabbed her eyes. “I’m not sure,” she said through a sudden sob that came from somewhere deep within her.
Grace frowned. “How long has this been going on?”
Jane rolled her eyes, throwing up her hands. “Months. Since Dad died. Maybe longer. I’m…” She started to cry, and Grace felt her heart snap in half, watching her sister’s shoulders shake up and down as she tried to muffle her sobs into the shawl of her robe. “I’m so exhausted!” she wailed, crying harder, and then sniffling hard, abruptly stopping.
“I can’t let Sophie see me like this,” she whispered, her eyes wild and urgent.
“No, no, of course not.” Grace pinched her lips and pushed her chair back from the table, walking over to the entrance to the family room, where Sophie was sitting on a blanket on the floor, having a tea party with her dolls. Behind her the Christmas tree twinkled magically, and a fire was dying down in the hearth. Grace allowed her gaze to linger on the three matching stockings hung perfectly from the mantel, which was decked out with family photos of Christmases past.
Perfect. That’s what she always thought of Jane’s life. Even when this path hadn’t been her ideal lifestyle, she had known it was perfect for Jane. Exactly what her sister wanted. Coming back here, Grace had seen how wonderful all this could be, this simple family life. So warm and cozy. So intrinsically fulfilling. So unlike her fast-paced life in New York.
Now the illusion was shattered.
She smiled at her little niece, who didn’t even notice her in the doorway, and slipped away. Jane was at the stovetop when she came back into the kitchen. Her face was still red and blotchy, her cheeks still sunken, but she had stopped crying.
“She’s playing with her toys,” Grace reassured her.
Jane nodded. “If she notices anything is wrong, I’m going to tell her I have a cold.”
A thought came to Grace and she tipped her head. “Why don’t you let me take Sophie for tonight? It might be a nice break for you, one less thing to worry about.”
Jane turned from her, her brow creasing. “I don’t know…”
“It might cheer Mom up, to have her around,” Grace pressed. “And it would be nice for me to have some alone time with her, spoil her a bit. I’ll take her to the Winter Festival.” She smiled, though Jane didn’t return the gesture. “Only for a night, Jane. It would give you a chance to focus on yourself for a change and take care of the things you need to.”
Jane looked pensive as she filled two mugs with hot water. “It might give me a chance to clear my head,” she murmured.
“Then it’s settled,” Grace said before Jane could say anything more.
They walked back to the table with the mugs, falling into silence as they sipped their tea. It was taking everything Grace had to not ask Jane for more details about what was bothering her, but she knew that Jane would open up to her when she was ready. Besides, she thought to herself, there were some things best kept between the two people involved. Complications no outside party could understand.
“Thanks,” Jane said through a watery smile. As she started to get up, she suddenly turned to Grace. “Why did you stop by? Was there something you needed?”
Grace smiled. “Just wanted to say hello,” she lied.
Anna was in the café when Grace pushed through the front door an hour later, clutching Sophie’s mittened hand. Seeing her sister behind the bakery counter, chatting easily with a woman Grace recognized from the pageant the night before, she knew it was now or never. She would have loved to have run the idea by Jane first, maybe take an ally with her into the meeting, but this was something she would have to do alone.
Squaring her shoulders, Grace strode across the room, plastering a big, bright smile on her face as she approached the display case filled with mouth-watering pastries and cakes.
“Grace,” Anna said, looking slightly startled. “You’re in a good mood today.”
“I am,” Grace concurred. A flutter of nerves zipped through her stomach and she drew a breath. “And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Anna frowned. “Me?”
“Got a few minutes?” Grace asked. She glanced around the café. It was busy, but not bustling. The woman had left the counter and was now sitting near the window, sipping a cappuccino. “I could wait for your break, if you prefer.”
“No,” Anna said hesitantly. “I could use a break, actually.”
“Good.” Her heart was doing jumping jacks as she turned to her niece. “Sophie, say hello to Aunt Anna.”
“Can I have a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows?” Sophie asked, and the two women burst into laughter.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Anna looked at Grace. “Give me a minute. I’ll meet you over at the table near the fireplace.”
Grace walked over to the set of armchairs that nestled around a coffee table in front of the roaring fire and set up the coloring book and crayons Sophie had brought. It was cozy and warm and wonderfully inviting, and a thrill of anticipation zipped down her spine as she watched the flames dance in the hearth and inhaled the rich aroma of fresh coffee. This was exactly what she had in mind for Main Street Books! Only the customers wouldn’t be reading magazines or surfing the net. They’d be reading books bought in the very same store. It would be a win-win situation for the café portion as well as the bookstore.
Now to make sure that Anna saw her vision, too.
“I went ahead and made you a peppermint latte,” Anna said, coming up from behind her and placing a frothy mug on the table. A dusting of cocoa covered the foam, and an old-fashioned candy cane was tucked into one side.
Grace smiled. As much as she hated all things Christmas these days, she couldn’t help feel a little tingle of something as the waft of sweet peppermint filled her senses.
“Thanks,” she said, taking a sip.
“Here you go, Sophie.” Anna handed their niece a snowman-shaped mug and settled herself into the opposite chair, curling her feet up under her as she sat. “I hate to cut right to it, but you have me a little curious. Last time I saw you, you were broken up over Dad’s store, now you’re positively glowing.” She paused, her eyes growing wide. “Did you get back together with your fiancé?”
“What?” Grace exclaimed, almost sloshing her latte in shock. She swallowed hard and set the mug back on the table, where her trembling hands wouldn’t do further damage. “No,” she said firmly. Never. “Derek and I are over, and I meant it when I said I was fine with that, actually.” He was a good man, but he wasn’t the man for her. She’d accepted that. No one was to blame.
She pressed her lips together. Why was it so easy to see it that way with Derek, but never with Luke?
“If you say so.” Anna didn’t look convinced. Leaning back against the red velvet throw pillow, she clutched her mug in both hands and said, “So what is it then? What has you all bright-eyed and grinning? If it isn’t Derek then—” Her eyes darkened. “Oh my God, did you and Luke… do something?”
“What?” Grace felt the blood drain from her face, and she was happy she’d had the foresight to set her mug down. “God, no! Why would you think such a thing?”
Despite her protests, curiosity built within her, filling her chest with a sense of something awfully close to hope. After everything she and Luke had been through, Anna wouldn’t toss something like that out there lightly. Unless…
“Did… someone say something to you?” she asked, holding her breath.
Anna gave a knowing smirk. “I saw the way you two were getting cozy near the punch last night, that’s all.”
Grace sighed and turned away, trying to banish the memory of her conversation with Luke from her mind. She had set out to hand him back his scarf and walk away, but he had pulled her in and kept her there. She never was good at walking away from that man.
In the fireplace, the flames crackled, casting a warm glow on the row of stockings hung from the mantel. They were the red felt kind that she remembered making in school, right down to the hand-painted glitter names on the white trim. She smiled at a distant memory, running home from school, asking her mother to hang her creation, and Kathleen’s pinched brow, the flash of horror that no, no, it wouldn’t match the others, it wouldn’t go with the theme she had created for that year.
That was the year of the twelve days of Christmas. Grace’s “official” stocking had featured two turtle doves. Her father had taken the cheap, rejected stocking and hung it in the bookshop, off the counter. “So everyone can see how beautiful it is,” he had said with a smile.
Grace blinked away the threat of tears and turned back to Anna. Here it goes.
“I actually had an idea I wanted to run by you specifically,” she began. “It’s about Main Street Books.”
Anna frowned. “I was hoping we were past this.” After a silence she said, “What kind of idea, Grace?”
The leery tone made Grace second guess herself, but not enough to let it drop. “I noticed that there was an empty storefront next door,” she said casually.
“Oh. Yeah, it’s been empty for years.” Anna shrugged. Then, with newfound trepidation in her voice she asked, “Why? What do you have in mind for it?”
“Now, hear me out.” Grace said quickly, licking her lips. Her pulse was gaining speed as her mind raced to find the best way to propose the plan. “A lot of people who frequent bookshops like to linger, sit around, read…” Have a cup of coffee, she thought. “Main Street Books never really had that opportunity. What if we could create that experience? Give the customers a destination point?”
Anna locked her gaze from across the table. “Grace, you’re speaking as if the shop is still open.”
Grace was prepared for this. “Ah, but see, the lease doesn’t end until the thirty-first. Technically, it’s still open, even though no one is there to run it.”
“And you’re going to run it? Until the end of the month? For like… another week and a half?”
Grace held up a palm. “Well, there’s more,” she said.
Anna groaned. “Get on with it!” Despite her outward impatience, Grace detected a hint of interest. She wanted to hear the rest, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
“I haven’t thought through all the details yet. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.” Grace ignored the flash of mirth that sparked Anna’s bright blue eyes. “I figured that while I’m here, in town, I might… spruce the place up a bit.”
Anna nodded slowly. “Spruce it up a bit?” She drew a breath and released it slowly. “Go on.”
“Now don’t freak out,” Grace began. Her heart was positively pounding now. This was it. She was going to lay it all on the line. If Anna guffawed, cackled at her expense, it would be over. Hope lost. If she could only hear her out, think about it, she might see that it could work. “I was thinking that a way to revive the shop would be to expand into the next storefront with an… an adjoining café,” she blurted out the rest, staring at the foam of her latte, bracing herself.
“A café,” Anna repeated after a beat.
“That’s right. It would make the bookstore more of a destination point.”
“And am I correct in assuming that I would have something to do with this café?”
Grace looked up at her pleadingly. “Well, it’s clear that this place is a hit. You yourself said how successful it is. You have no competition in town other than Hastings, really. Why not expand?”
Anna rubbed her finger over her bottom lip and stared at her. The silence stretched for what felt like minutes, until she finally said, “Where would we get the money to pay for the lease? The entire reason we had to close Main Street Books is because we couldn’t afford it, remember?”
Grace swallowed the excitement that was building in her chest, refusing to show any outward emotion for fear of scaring Anna off. So far, this conversation was going considerably better than she had planned. She had expected Anna to snort in laughter, to shake her head and tell her to stop dreaming. If she didn’t know better, she might say that Anna was actually considering this. Now they just had to figure out a way to make it happen.
“I have a bit of money saved,” Grace said. “It would help with the first few months of the lease, but the rest would be a risk. I can’t lie. I’m assuming there would be some initial construction costs.”
Anna peered at her, seeming to mull this over. “And who would run the bookstore?”
“Well, I thought you or someone from here could oversee the café and that I might be in charge of the books.”
Anna’s jaw slacked. “You?” She stared at her, unblinking, and Grace gave her a weak smile in return. “You’re moving back to Briar Creek?”
Grace broke her stare and looked around the room, taking a sip of her sweet peppermint drink. It tasted like Christmas in a cup. She rather liked it.
“Well, that’s all dependent.”
“On?”
Grace widened her eyes. “On this, of course!”
Anna closed her eyes and began to laugh, and Grace felt her heart sink. She had thought Anna was actually considering this, that it might truly happen, and in that moment, it had felt so real—all of it. Even the prospect of moving back. She could see herself standing behind Dad’s counter, ringing up the till, recommending books. Stacking new inventory with a little smile on her face…
She almost felt… happy. It felt like what she was meant to do.
“I’m sorry, Grace,” Anna said, composing herself. “I shouldn’t be laughing. I’m so stunned, you see. You leave town for five years, refusing to come back, and now you’re saying you want to stay?”
Grace nodded. She lifted her chin, pursing her lips. That’s right. That’s exactly what she was saying. It might sound ludicrous, but there was nothing wrong with it. What was so wrong about wan
ting to come home?
“What about your writing?”
Grace lowered her eyes. There was that question again. “I can write from anywhere.” Technically she could, if she chose to. That was another issue she didn’t want to think about right now.
Right now, Anna was showing signs of support, and Grace wouldn’t let anything tear her thoughts from this possibility.
“Tell you what,” Anna said, standing. “Find out what the rent is on that empty storefront and then we’ll talk some more.”
Grace’s pulse kicked. She opened her mouth to speak, but her breath wedged in her throat. “Oh my—are you—you mean—”
Anna grinned. “I might live to regret this, but your idea might work. If we can figure out a way to pay for it all, that is.”
Grace nodded her head furiously, her heart swelling with excitement. “I’ll let you get back to work then.”
“See you, Grace.” Anna stopped halfway to the counter and turned, smiling wide. It was the happiest Grace had seen her since she’d been back in town, and the sight of it tugged at her heartstrings. Anna was far too beautiful a girl to ever be caught frowning.
“Just for the record, I’d really like it if you stayed.”
“Me too!” Sophie said, coming over to take her hand.
Grace looked down at Sophie and felt something within her break. Holding the little hand in hers, thinking of the joy that Sophie brought to her sister—the comfort, even in times like this—Grace knew more than ever that this was where she belonged. She might have run from it before, thinking it was boring, simple, uninspiring, but now she knew that Briar Creek, and everyone in it, was what she needed to fill that hole in her heart that had been there ever since the day she had left.
Grace grinned at her sister. “Talk to you later, Anna.”
She gathered up Sophie’s things and helped her put on her coat. She put on her own coat, turned on her heel, and pushed through the door, Sophie’s small hand in hers, feeling the blood pump through her veins. Out on the sidewalk, she almost jogged all the way to Main Street Books, with Sophie giggling at the thrill of it, not even minding the chill whipping through her hair or the goofy smile plastered on her face that drew curious frowns from passersby. Let them talk, let them all talk! She was finally getting somewhere. After months of agonizing over her fate, pacing Manhattan in search of a sense of purpose, she had finally found one—in the one place she had least expected to find it.
