The Sisters of Sugarcreek

by Cathy Liggett

  Still holding a level in one hand, Cole slipped his other hand into Derek’s free one, tugging him toward the door. “I’m ready.”

  “Don’t forget to wear your ski hat, Cole,” Jessica called after her son. “And your gloves.”

  Cole nodded without looking back. It wasn’t until Derek stopped in the entry to say his good-byes that Cole turned too.

  “Good luck and sell big, ladies!” Derek wished them well.

  “Yeah, Mom, sell big,” her son said, mimicking the man she’d never stopped caring about.

  Jessica blew a kiss to her son—and if truth be known, in her heart of hearts, she’d sort of meant the gesture for Derek, too.

  As the two guys were walking out of the Cottage hand in hand, Marisa happened to be traipsing in. Wearing red tights and a long green sweater under a white ski vest, she stopped in the entry, her eyes as wide as Cole’s had been as she gawked at all the changes and decorations.

  Marisa spun from side to side. “It looks so, so awesome in here. I really do feel like one of Santa’s helpers now. Like an elf come to help,” she proclaimed. Then, unzipping her backpack, she pulled out a red-and-green felt elf hat, looking more than a little jolly to plunk it over her head of curls.

  An hour after Derek and Cole left the Cottage, Jessica officially turned over the sweater sign to Open with a hope in her heart and a prayer on her lips.

  But it was the screech of brakes and the hiss of the huge charter bus from Columbus coming to a stop right outside the Cottage door that was like a starter pistol going off, getting the Santa sale rolling. Evidently the flyers announcing the sale had been well received at the nursing home. Even the ladies with walkers and canes came flocking into the shop.

  But the elderly bunch weren’t the only ones to show up. It seemed the flyers they’d distributed around Sugarcreek and nearby towns had gotten much notice too. As well, her social media and online marketing brought in visitors from many of the surrounding communities, who made quite a few purchases. Then there were the tourists who’d come to Sugarcreek for a quaint, nostalgic holiday weekend to do a little shopping and maybe take in a play. Many of them were curious about a Santa Cottage Sale too.

  Once the stream of traffic began, it never seemed to slow up. Meaning Lydia was answering every question imaginable for customers. Liz was busy boxing and bagging sweets nonstop. Their very own elf, Marisa, was scurrying in every direction, helping out in any way she could. And Jessica didn’t dare venture far from the cash register.

  “I have to tell you, I just love these kits,” an older woman was telling her as Jessica rang up three of Lydia’s knitting kits and three quilting kits the woman had laid on the counter. “I’m getting them for my great-granddaughters, and we’re going to set aside a day—well, a few days, I’m hoping—to work on these projects together,” the lady informed her. “The kits will be an easy way to start them out. And it’s something I’ve been meaning to teach the girls before I leave this earth.”

  “Oh, ma’am, I’m guessing that’s not the only thing your grandkids have learned from you,” Jessica countered as she gave the woman her change and placed the kits in a large shopping bag. “But I’m sure it’ll be a memorable day, crafting with your girls. You enjoy your time together.”

  “I know I will,” the woman stressed.

  “I’m sure the girls will too,” Jessica assured her.

  “I do hope you’re right,” the woman said, taking the bag. “If so, I’ll be back for more kits. You have a merry Christmas and God bless.”

  “Same to you, ma’am.” Jessica gave a slight wave and realized the woman had been the end of the line. At last! She could finally take a breather—for a moment, anyway. Grabbing her water bottle from under the counter, she was taking a sip as Lydia came around the back of the counter.

  “Your kits are such a hit, Lydia,” Jessica told her friend excitedly. “We’ve sold dozens of them already.”

  “You mean our kits,” Lydia stressed.

  “Okay, yes, our kits.” Jessica nodded.

  “Oh, gut. I also put a few more sweaters out, and I noticed the log cabin quilt is already gone from the rack.” Her brows raised with happy delight.

  “Yes, the biggest sale of the day.”

  “So far.”

  Jessica smiled at Lydia’s positivity. “Yes, so far. Actually, it’s been so busy, I haven’t been able to get out from behind this cash register and help at all.”

  “And that’s a verra gut thing.” Lydia chuckled.

  “Oh, and I got a chance to meet some of your friends when I rang them up, Lydia. They’re all so nice and far too generous. I’d hoped to get around and meet more of the women and let them know firsthand how much I appreciate their help.”

  She’d glanced up once or twice from the register to see Lydia hugging several other ladies in kapps and long dresses, strolling through the shop.

  “Trust me, Jessica, my friends already know how grateful you are. They’ve all been telling me the thank-you notes you sent couldna have been any sweeter. If you really want to meet more of them, though, I’ll be happy to take over the cash register while you make your way around the shop. There’s also someone by the front door who asked to speak to you,” Lydia told her, her eyes twinkling.

  Glancing in the direction of Lydia’s gaze, Jessica was more than surprised to see a woman who had only been in the shop once since she’d taken it over. A woman she’d definitely started off on the wrong foot with. Mrs. Grisham.

  She didn’t know if she should be worried or pleased, but she slid out from behind the counter anyway and headed toward the front of the store. The closer she got, she realized why Mrs. Grisham probably didn’t feel very comfortable coming any farther into the crowded shop. A purple cast stuck out from the left armhole of the brown wool cape she was wearing, and a black brace on her right arm poked out the other side. Jessica also instantly recognized the greenish-blue prayer shawl from her aunt Rose’s treasure chest, wrapped around Mrs. Grisham’s shoulders like a scarf.

  Taking a deep breath, Jessica stepped in front of the formidable woman and nodded a hello. “Mrs. Grisham.”

  “Hmph,” Mrs. Grisham grunted. “I would think you could call me Virginia by now—now that you’ve been to my house.”

  “Your, uh, house?” Jessica pretended to be confused.

  “It’s all right, Jessica.” A slight smile began to tug at the other woman’s lips. “Your secret is good with me. Just as your aunt’s secret was good with me too.”

  “Well, I . . . ,” Jessica stammered and tried to steer away from the Secret Stitches, not sure what to say. “How are you doing?” she asked instead. “I was sorry to hear about your fall.”

  “I’m doing well. It’s just a matter of time before this all heals,” the woman said stolidly, straightening her shoulders. “But actually, the reason I’m here is that I thought I’d feel even better if I came and apologized to you.”

  Jessica had expected the woman to speak staunchly, assuredly. To pull back her shoulders and act as if she could handle anything that came her way. What she hadn’t expected was for her to offer up an apology. That left her completely stunned. “Apologize for what?”

  “For giving up on you so quickly. For not showing you grace. It wasn’t fair of me.”

  “Mrs. Grisham, really, an apology isn’t necessary.” Jessica waved a hand, then looked down at her feet before she glanced at the woman again. “Remember? I was the one who messed up your order to begin with.”

  “Yes, you did. But anyone can make a mistake,” she replied, repeating the words Derek had uttered to her recently. “Even I made a mistake by judging you the way I did. Why, just because you don’t have your aunt’s knitting and quilting knowledge—”

  “Oh, I know. It’s quite apparent, isn’t it?” Jessica halfway grinned, almost feeling better that she was finally learning to accept her shortcomings and work on them, rather than keep berating herself for them.

  “Yes, dea
r, I’m afraid it is.” Mrs. Grisham didn’t try to soften her reply in the least. “But that’s exactly what I came here to tell you. Because one morning I woke up, and lo and behold, I found something on my front doorstep. A little package of hope, would you believe it?” She tilted her head, and Jessica could tell by the way her eyes brightened that the package had been most appreciated. “And that’s the day I learned you have something even more important about you than your aunt’s craft knowledge, Jessica.”

  Puzzled, Jessica frowned. “I do?”

  “Yes, you do. You have your aunt’s caring heart. And that’s a big part—the biggest part—of making a shop like the Cottage successful, my young friend. It’s something that will have women wanting to come back to your shop, time and time again.”

  Once again, Mrs. Grisham had taken her by surprise. Jessica found herself blubbering, “I don’t know what to say. You’ll never know how much it means to hear that from you, Mrs.—”

  The other woman held up her hand. “Virginia,” she insisted.

  “Virginia.” Jessica smiled. “It truly means a lot. It does.”

  In the middle of all the chaos and worry, Virginia Grisham’s words calmed her and touched her like nothing had in a long, long while. To be told she was anything like her aunt Rose—any special little part of her, and especially her caring heart—made her feel like she was giving a gift back to the aunt who had raised her, had mercy on her, and loved her unconditionally like a daughter of her very own.

  “I do have to tell you, Virginia,” Jessica confessed, “I’m not the only one trying to follow in my aunt’s footsteps to keep the Cottage going. Lydia Gruber is a huge part of that too.” She nodded at her Amish friend, busy at the cash register. “And Liz Cannon has been an incredible help. As you already know, my aunt left some big shoes to fill.”

  “But together you’re filling them, and I’m here to promise you, I won’t be driving all the way to Coshocton anymore for supplies. My ladies’ group is coming back to the Cottage. That is, if it’s okay with you.”

  “It’s more than okay,” Jessica told her new customer, who was actually beginning to feel like an ally and friend. “I’d be honored to have you all, Virginia, whenever that may be.”

  “Well . . .” Virginia’s face broke into a full-fledged smile. “Some of the ladies are here today. There’s Joann.” She nodded to a woman studying the items hanging from the Christmas tree. “Then Vicky and Debbie are over there looking at the prints on the wall. And then Lucy—” She paused to chuckle. “It looks like she might have her eye on one of the quilts. She’d so much rather buy one than make one any day of the week. Knitting is more her thing.

  “I figure you may as well get to know their names,” Virginia continued, “because you’ll be seeing a lot of them. And me, too, once I get back on my feet—er, well, back to using my arms and hands. In fact, I’d really like to knit one of those scarves over there.” She nodded toward one of Jessica’s creations. “The ones with that pretty, sparkly ribbon.”

  “Oh, that? That’s probably far simpler than you’re used to.” Jessica waved her hand. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how she’d show someone how to make such a lumpy, bumpy thing. “But I appreciate your vote of confidence, Virginia.”

  “Will you thank the rest of the gals for me? Lydia and Liz? For the prayer shawl and chocolates and slippers?”

  “Uh . . .” Forcing herself to stay straight-faced, Jessica arched a brow and cocked her head sideways. “Hmm. What prayer shawl, chocolates, and slippers?”

  Virginia laughed out loud. “Oh, you’re right. You’ll have to excuse me. The fall I took still has me a bit daffy. I have no idea who was kind enough to deliver a prayer shawl, chocolates, and slippers to my doorstep.” She winked. “Absolutely no clue at all.”

  The sun that had poured through the shop windows first thing in the morning was beginning to give up its reign in the sky by the time the last customer left the Cottage. It had been one busy and tiring day.

  But a successful one, as well.

  In fact, Jessica thought the shop looked as if a winter storm had blown through the place, leaving the quilt racks bare, half the Christmas tree ornaments missing, baskets and bins totally empty where kits and sweaters and scarves used to be. The cake stands and dessert trays held nothing but a few crumbs. And only one photo was left hanging on the wall. A shot of a flower garden at sunrise, which Jessica planned to keep for the shop with Derek’s permission.

  “You don’t mind if the hot chocolate machine sits here until tomorrow, do you?” Liz asked as she and Marisa were gathering up their things to leave. “I’ll drop by and pick it up then.”

  “Or I can run it over to your house,” Jessica offered.

  “Whatever. We can see what the day brings.”

  “Are you sure neither of you wants to stay for a cup of tea? And to rest your feet for a minute?”

  Still wearing her beloved elf hat, Marisa zipped up her vest, ready to go. “I’m already too full. This little elf drank way too much hot chocolate.” She groaned, patting her belly.

  “Honestly, it was a fun day, Jess, but I’m pooped,” Liz told her. “All I want to do is go home, get in my pj’s, and eat some red velvet cake.”

  “But I thought you sold all the cakes,” Lydia spoke up.

  “All the ones I brought to the sale.” Liz gave a sheepish smile. “But I kept one cake at the house. One just for me. Ho, ho, ho.” She jiggled up and down, making them all laugh.

  “Well, ladies, I couldn’t have done this without you,” Jessica said as she walked them both toward the front door.

  “Oh, pshaw. Sure you could’ve.” Marisa waved a hand at her.

  “But if you had, I would’ve missed out on a lot,” Liz said as she pulled on her gloves.

  “Just to tell you, from a quick tally of the sales, it looks like you helped to save a life today. The Cottage has been revived and can remain open for business.”

  Jessica tried to sound businesslike as she gave them the brief report, but she could feel the emotion rising inside of her. And what did it matter anyway? More than anything else, these women were her friends.

  “I really . . . really can’t thank you all enough.” Her voice warbled on the verge of tears as she eyed each one of them. What an unlikely group the four of them were. Yet somehow they worked together and cared about each other in such a perfect way. “Without you . . .” A tear slid slowly down her cheek. “I know I would’ve lost something that’s very precious to me. And something that was so precious to Aunt Rose, too. But now . . .” She sniffled, and before she could get anything else out, Lydia was by her side, patting her shoulder.

  At the same time, Liz’s gloved hand reached out to touch her cheek. “It’s all good, honey. It’s all good.”

  “It’s really good,” Marisa piped up. “Because there were a lot of women today asking if we’d be doing the same thing next Christmas.”

  “Really?” Lydia sounded unusually curious. “What did you tell them?”

  “I said yes, of course.” Marisa twisted the end of her hat around her finger, tinkling the bell there. “This time next year I’ll be home from college for a long stretch, and I’ll be looking for something fun to do.”

  “You think working at the Cottage is fun?” The idea of Marisa thinking so warmed Jessica’s heart all over again.

  “Sure.” Marisa shrugged, glancing among the three of them. “I mean, why wouldn’t it be? You guys are all nice, the shop is great, and it’s a whole lot better than cleaning the toilets at my aunt’s hair salon,” she said, causing all of them to break out laughing.

  “Well, there you go.” Jessica held her hands in the air as a chuckle dissipated her tears. “An honest woman. I knew there was something I liked about you, Marisa. Actually, there are many things I like about you.” She hugged the teenage girl, who smiled shyly.

  “At least we have a year to rest up,” Lydia said wisely.

  “Yes.” Liz paused to
cup a yawn. “And that’s just what I intend to do.”

  After a round of hugs, the bell over the Cottage door chimed farewell as Liz and Marisa left the store.

  Without waiting a beat, Lydia started in with her usual endless store of energy, picking up wayward skeins of yarn and knitted items that had been shuffled around. Jessica had to stop her in her tracks.

  “Uh-uh-uh.” Jessica approached her friend, shaking a finger. “No more straightening up or cleaning up, Lydia. The day is done. Time to rest. We’ll get the mess another day, another time,” she said, taking sweaters and knitting needles from Lydia’s arms and laying them aside. “How about something to drink before I take you home? Something cold? Or hot tea? Or—”

  “Hot chocolate?” Lydia asked.

  “That does sound good, doesn’t it?”

  Each grabbing a cup of hot chocolate, they settled onto Rose’s bench in the middle of the store. Jessica reached into the pocket of her Cottage apron and brought out a baggie containing two candy cane–shaped sugar cookies, frosted with green icing.

  “Oh! I didn’t think there were any cookies left.” Lydia happily took one.

  “I hid them before we got started this morning.”

  “Verra sneaky. Gut thinking.”

  “Actually, I believe my best thinking was in hiring you, Lydia. I really couldn’t have done any of this without you. And I have to tell you, I’m amazed. I mean, you’ve had a very rough, emotional week, and you still went above and beyond. You really should take a couple of days off. I mean it. And with pay, of course.”

  “Danke, Jessica. Danke for your kind words, but nee. I don’t think I want to have verra much free time right now, if you know what I’m saying. It’s been gut to be as busy as I’ve been with the Cottage and the sale. It’s been a saving grace, to be sure, with all that’s been going on. I think that’s true for Liz, too.”