by Olivia Miles
Only they weren’t kids anymore. And even with her here, all Cora could think about was how much things had changed.
“You okay?” Cora knew it was Britt even before she spoke. She knew each of her sisters by the sound of their tread, and Britt had always walked with a clear sense of purpose.
Cora set her mug on the counter and sighed. “I suppose you think I overreacted about the tree topper.”
Britt shrugged. “If it means so much to you, why didn’t you say anything?”
Cora gave her a pointed look. “You know how pushy Candy can be.”
There was no argument there.
“Besides,” Cora continued, unable to meet her sister’s eye. “I’m starting to feel like I’m the only one who attaches so much meaning to this holiday.”
Maddie had appeared over Britt’s shoulder by now, and scooted past her into the kitchen. “That’s not true, Cora. But the holidays always meant the most to you. Without you, I’m not even sure what Christmas would have looked like in the years after we lost Mom.”
It was true, Cora knew. Britt was gone for college by then, and Amelia kept busy with practical matters, like tending to the dinners and making sure that Cora and Maddie had everything they needed for school. Their father immersed himself in the orchard, in good hard work. And Maddie clung to the dessert recipes that their mother had made, filling the house with the smells that were as sweet as her memory.
But it was Cora who made sure that they still decorated for Christmas each year. That they still carried out the traditions that had meant so much to their mother, even if she was no longer there to experience it with them.
“You can’t expect things to stay the same forever,” Britt said gently. “And I’ll have you know that for about the first six years of my life, our tree topper was a beautiful glass snowflake that I broke one year, arguing with Amelia over which one of us was going to get to put it up. We got the angel at a craft fair because Mom thought it was more durable with four kids under the roof, all wanting to get their hands on it.”
Cora didn’t know this story, of course. She would have been too little.
Now, she filled her mug with the cocoa that was still warm in the pot on the stove and swirled it with a candy cane, per tradition.
“I guess I just liked things the way they were,” Cora said.
“You mean with Dad sad and lonely and all of us slowly turning into spinsters?” Maddie replied. Then, realizing her misstep, she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, Cora. You know you’ll find someone eventually. There’s always Bart. Oh, and you know, there was a guy in the bakery the other day—”
She stopped when she saw Cora give her the long, warning look she always did when Maddie started to get too interested in her love life.
“Bart is a friend,” she clarified. “And as for some guy in your bakery, I’m not exactly looking to be set up at the moment. Besides, this is my peak season. I don’t have time to think about romance.”
It wasn’t true. She’d spent entirely too much time during her walk over here thinking of Phil and the fact that he would be staying in town through Christmas.
“You know what Mom always used to say,” Amelia chimed in as she joined them through the dining room entrance and picked up her platter of leftover Thanksgiving sandwiches. “First comes mistletoe!”
They all said it in unison, and Cora laughed, despite her earlier annoyance.
It was true, that above all traditions that their mother loved about this holiday, the part she loved the most was the love. The magic. The way the snow and the lights and the music and the feels all made everything feel more special and romantic.
And that was one tradition that Cora hadn’t exactly experienced firsthand. Until now.
4
Unlike her sisters Amelia and Maddie, who closed their establishments on Mondays, Cora remained open seven days a week during the holiday season, knowing that her downtime would come from January through to the spring, when tourists started flocking to the lakefront town again. She was happy for the business, especially from Maddie and Cole, who stopped by as promised. Cora had watched them with a funny feeling in her stomach as they walked around the shop, picking out decorations that were clearly the start of a life together, even if it was the early days in their relationship. She wasn’t jealous of her sister—no, that wasn’t it. It was longing, she realized, for what they had. To find it for herself.
But after waiting all day to see if Phil and Georgie would come in for decorations for their tree, she’d finally turned the sign on the door with a sigh, flicked off the lights, and treated herself to two Christmas movies in her favorite flannel pajamas, and a bowl of cereal for dinner.
Up until now, that kind of night had been something to look forward to after a long day on her feet. But now, after meeting Phil, Cora suddenly itched to get out a little more.
On Tuesday morning, she stopped by Buttercream Bakery for some much-needed coffee. She was pleased to see that the new spot in town was busy on a weekday morning.
She was even more pleased to see how festive Maddie’s menu was.
“You might have beaten me when it comes to who has more Christmas in their store,” she laughed when Maddie finished up with the customer ahead of her. Cora let her gaze linger on all the treats, most of which had eggnog, candy cane, or spice in their ingredients.
Maddie snorted. “Please, like anyone could top you when it comes to the holidays.” She paused, her expression turning momentarily sad. “Well, other than Mom, of course.”
Cora gave a wistful smile. Memories of her mother happily hanging a wreath from the front door and putting her candles in each window still made her heart ache nearly as much as it filled it. “She knew how to do it, that was for sure.”
“From the roast to the potatoes to the color-coordinated wrapping paper.”
“Hey, I thought Santa brought the paper!” Cora teased, but it was true, and she was pleased that Maddie, being the youngest, still remembered that. Each year, their mother picked a few rolls of paper in coordinating prints, and each girl knew whose gifts were for who based on the paper.
It was a tradition she still carried on, wrapping each of her family member’s gifts in a different print that suited their personality.
“Maybe that’s something you can do with your kids someday,” she said. “Now that you and Cole are—”
Maddie pursed her lips, but there was no doubt that she was pleased. “Just dating,” she said firmly.
“For now.” Cora couldn’t deny that it felt good to give Maddie a taste of her own medicine. She’d poked Amelia forever about her romantic life, which had spared Cora until Matt returned to town and Amelia found her happily ever after.
Maddie’s cheeks flushed and she swallowed hard as their eyes met. “But speaking of Cole, I’ve meaning to tell you that—”
She stopped, her expression lifting to one of unabashed excitement as the door jingled and a cold burst of winter air filled the otherwise deliciously warm and spice-scented room.
Maddie leaned in and whispered, “Don’t look now, but that guy I was telling you about is back.”
Cora stifled a groan. “Is this how it’s going to be? Now that you have a boyfriend, you’re going to try to fix me up with any man that orders a latte? You’re worse than Candy, you know that?”
Maddie pulled back and shrugged. “Suit yourself. But you’ll never meet anyone if you sit home every night the way you do.”
“I don’t sit home every night,” Cora scoffed. A guilty flush crept up her cheeks when she thought of how she’d spent the night before, not that she’d be letting on. “I mean, not every night.” Really, was it so bad to be a homebody? She loved her cozy apartment, loved relaxing after a long day. But she supposed it wasn’t exactly a good way to meet someone, unless it was someone who came into her shop…Her mind drifted back to Phil.
“Not every night, but…most nights?” Maddie gave her a scolding look, but there was
a knowing smile teasing her mouth as she tended to Cora’s coffee, not bothering to specify the order. Everyone in the Conway family—and probably in town—knew that Cora liked peppermint lattes…every single day of the year.
Because she suspected that her sister was still watching her from the corner of her eye, Cora refused to so much as glance over her shoulder, even if she was a little curious about this man that Maddie was so intent about her meeting.
“Hey,” a voice interrupted her thoughts, causing her to jump, and she turned at the sound of it, rich and thick and just smooth enough to make her stand a little straighter.
She smiled in surprise at Phil, who was grinning right back at her. “Hello!” Oh, she really hoped that she didn’t say that with the enthusiasm that she felt.
She glanced sidelong at Maddie, who was watching, wide-eyed, with interest.
“So you took me up on the suggestion,” she said, wondering if she should really take credit for referring Phil here when this was the only bakery in town and it was breakfast time, after all.
“Oh, this is our second time here,” Phil said. He motioned to Georgie, whose nose was pressed against the glass display case as she considered her options. Clearly, this task required utmost concentration.
Phil grinned at Maddie who said, rather cheekily if one were to ask Cora, “Welcome back!”
She gave a little lift of her eyebrow to Cora. Cora did her best to pretend not to notice.
“What can I get for you today?” Maddie asked.
“Two of the cranberry scones, a regular coffee—”
“A candy cane hot chocolate! Please, Dad?” Georgie begged.
After a beat, Phil said, “The hot chocolate.” He motioned to Cora’s to-go cup. “And whatever she’s having.”
Cora opened her mouth to protest, but Maddie shot her a look that was brief but clear. One that only they as sisters could read in the eyes.
“Thank you,” Cora said, smiling. “You didn’t have to.”
“Oh, but I did.” Phil’s brow pulled a little as he handed over some cash. He seemed quiet for a moment, until he said, “If it wasn’t for you, I’m not sure that we’d be spending Christmas in this quaint little town.”
“You seem to be embracing the idea.”
He gave a look that said otherwise. Clearly, he didn’t share his daughter’s—or her—enthusiasm when it came to the holiday.
“What makes Georgie happy, makes me happy.”
“You’re a good father,” Cora said. She knew one when she saw one; after all, she had firsthand experience with the best man a girl could have ever had, especially after they lost their mother.
Phil didn’t look convinced. “Depends on the day.”
She grinned, trying her best to avoid meeting Maddie’s eye, who was no doubt memorizing every word of this exchange to report back to their older sisters. “And what do you have planned while you’re in town?”
“Other than decorating our new tree?” Phil shrugged. “What do people do in town for Christmas?”
Maddie made a big show of clearing her throat, but feigned innocence as she handed Phil his scones. Cora could have swatted her.
If her sister thought that Phil was fishing around for a date, she was probably mistaken. The man was just looking for a little company. Or some insight about the holidays from the town’s expert.
Still, Maddie might be a little pushy, but she also had her best interest at heart. Cora pulled in a breath, wondering if she was being forward by what she wanted to say next, or just plain friendly. Friendly, she decided. After all, she would have said the same thing to any newcomer to town. It just so happened that this one fell under the dangerously attractive and single and likeable category.
“The same things we’ve always done! The annual tree lighting is this Friday night,” she said. “It’s a lot of fun. They light up the tree and sing carols. Pretty much the entire town comes out for it.”
Georgie gasped. “Can we go, Daddy?”
“I don’t see why not,” he said. He looked at Cora. “Thanks. And…I imagine I’ll be seeing you before then, too.”
Cora felt her cheeks heat as she questioned his implication. “At the shop,” she finally said, wanting to shake her other thoughts clear. Of course, they would be in for decorations like they’d said at the tree lot. Maybe there was nothing more to it than that.
But when they collected their hot drinks and waved good-bye, Cora felt some hesitation from Phil, like there was something more he wanted to say to her and then changed his mind. She lingered behind, not only because she didn’t want to look like she was following them out, but because it was fairly clear from the way Maddie was tossing looks her way that a post mortem was in order.
Maddie tipped her head toward the kitchen door as her assistant slipped behind the counter. Cora checked the time. She supposed she could spare a few minutes. And she couldn’t exactly contain this feeling that something magical was happening this Christmas, right here in this sleepy little town that she loved so much.
“Cora! That’s the guy that I was telling you about,” Maddie hissed as she closed the door behind them.
Cora hadn’t even considered the possibility and now she looked sheepishly at her sister. Damn. Would she be forced to admit that she was a little open to love, especially with Phil, who had clearly already won her younger sister’s stamp of approval?
She swept her eyes over the kitchen, where canisters of flour and sugar were clearly labeled, and the counter held a mixing bowl and several baking sheets. Maddie immediately began rolling out dough after washing her hands.
“How do you know him?”
“Oh, he came into the shop,” Cora said dismissively. Really, she realized with a sinking heart, there was nothing more to it than that. Only it felt like there was. Like something kept bringing Phil back to the store, or in her path.
But then, that was small-town living for you.
“And?” Maddie reached for a cookie cutter and began stamping the dough. “Where is he from? What’s his story?”
“I don’t know, really. I don’t even know his last name,” Cora replied with a sigh. “All I know is that he’s here through the holidays.”
“That’s weeks from now!” Maddie exclaimed. “A lot can happen in a few weeks, you know.”
Yes, Cora knew that it could. Maddie was proof of that. She’d fallen in love with her contractor right here in this very kitchen while he was building her dream bakery.
But could something like that happen to her?
She thought of what her mother always used to say about the magic of Christmas and decided that it was entirely possible. Especially at Christmas.
*
In between screening half a dozen voicemails and leaving twice as many in return for his staff back in the office, Phil listened as Georgie talked about how she planned to decorate the tree for the entire drive home. Home meaning his grandparents’ summer home. In all honesty, Phil didn’t really know what constituted as home anymore. It wasn’t his condo in the city; Georgie had drawn some light to that, made him realize that while it was functional and convenient, and even spacious, it was only a place to live.
And it wouldn’t be for long. He had already found someone to lease it for two years, the expected duration of his time in Europe. Visits back to the States would be infrequent, and there was a corporate apartment he could use for that.
He supposed that home base would revert to his childhood home now; neither of his parents spent much time there. His father was working, and his mother was always busy with a committee or theatre tickets or museum event. The city brownstone that he’d grown up in had felt large and empty, with dinners mostly eaten out at restaurants, the kitchen always spotless.
Here in Blue Harbor, his grandparents’ house had felt foreign, small by comparison, and a bit rundown, even all those years ago. Now, as he opened the door and flicked on the lights, he knew that if he was going to make an easy sale of it, he’d need
to at least tend to a few minor repairs. It would likely sell to someone like him, he supposed, someone within driving distance who was looking for a vacation getaway.
Only that was where the comparison stopped. Phil didn’t do vacations. Phil worked.
He set the bags from the hardware store on the kitchen counter, knowing that he should have stopped by the Christmas shop before coming back to the house. By the terms of Cora’s lease, she was entitled to a thirty-day written notice, and as the executor of his grandparents’ estate, he’d hoped to tie this up by year-end. He supposed an extra week wouldn’t change the outcome of the sale. When he’d briefly spoken over the phone to the real estate agent in town about listing the two properties, he was told that both would likely sell when people began thinking about warmer weather.
The property on Main would likely be turned into an inn, much like the handful of others that lined the street. According to the real estate agent, there were always a few buyers circling the area, watching and waiting for an opportunity to pop up. Phil vaguely remembered the way his grandmother would dream of turning the property into a B&B—something that made his father snort, knowing the kind of capital it would take to make that happen.
Sure, his grandparents weren’t rich by any means, but they weren’t uncomfortable, either. They worked hard as bookkeepers for neighboring businesses, and Phil’s grandfather had made the choice to downsize to the cottage for less pressure and a simpler life. And more time to fish, he always pointed out. Oh, how that made Phil’s father roll his eyes. That house on Main had been his home, moving out of it was something he’d never quite forgiven his parents for. He wanted more out of life. More for himself than he could find in Blue Harbor.
The house on Main Street would be an easy sell, Phil knew, but the cottage would be harder to part with for his grandparents, which was why Phil hadn’t shared the details of how he planned to handle their affairs. They trusted him to do the right thing, and that was to unload the properties. His grandparents would never return to Blue Harbor at this stage of their lives, and there was no chance that Phil’s father would either. There was nothing to hold onto here.
