“Speaking of travel,” Rachel said, picking up a pair of sunglasses from the rack in front of her. “Do you think I’ll need these for Hollywood?”
Kim smirked. “Yes, in fact, I think you’ll need a different set for each day of your honeymoon.”
“Great idea!” Rachel agreed. “I should buy Mike some, too.”
“What about your agreement?”
Rachel pictured herself with Mike in sunny California with the famed white Hollywood sign on the hill behind them. She’d wear one of those stylish wide-brimmed floppy hats she’d seen in the fashion magazines, and Mike could wear a black beret to go with his gorgeous dark brown hair. They’d each wear their sunglasses and sit under an umbrella table at a cafe sipping champagne like the movie stars.
“Oh, but he’s going to love it,” Rachel said. “Who can go to Hollywood without a pair of sunglasses?”
Kim looked at the price tag. “Did you know they cost a hundred dollars? You can find cheaper ones at the drugstore.”
“Oh, but these are perfect,” Rachel whispered. “And I’ve already planned the perfect wedding with a videographer, ice sculptures, a chocolate fountain, a live band, and hundreds of white rosebud flowers.”
She ignored the skepticism on Kim’s face and made her purchase at the cash register. “Besides, I don’t have time for the drugstore,” she continued, breaking into another smile. “I’m getting married tomorrow!”
RACHEL STEPPED ONTO the red-carpeted staircase with her two bridesmaids and waited for Grandpa Lewy to come give the signal that the wedding was about to start.
The historic downtown Liberty Theater, which opened in 1925 as a vaudeville/motion picture palace, had more recently been turned into an exquisite performing arts venue. She’d rented the McTavish Room, where both the ceremony and the reception would take place.
The elegant room, with its cranberry red carpets, wooden dance floor, and candlestick crystal chandelier, held 185 people, seated in groups of eight around fifteen tables. She’d calculated the numbers over and over when making her plans. Five large serving tables would be spread with the catered food, along with a buffet table for the chocolate fountain fondue and a small carving table for turkey and roast beef.
She’d waited her whole life for this once-in-a-lifetime day. She, Rachel Marie Donovan, was about to walk down the aisle behind her most cherished friends, unite with the man she loved, and have the Cinderella wedding of her dreams.
So why were both of her bridesmaids’ eyes brimming with tears? If anyone should be crying, it should be her, from sheer happiness.
“Andi, what’s wrong?” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
Andi, dressed in the holly green gown her mother had been able to fix, let out a soft, audible sob. “I can’t help it. I love this place.”
“I love it, too,” Rachel soothed. “That’s why I chose to have my wedding here.”
“I meant Astoria. I love Astoria. And I love Creative Cupcakes.”
Rachel pretended she understood, but Andi had been acting weird, and now she was all emotional. She turned to Kim. “What about you?”
“I overheard Nathaniel talking to your cousin,” Kim said, her face grim. “I thought he was flirting with her.”
“Stacey?” Rachel laughed, then covered her mouth, hoping no one being seated in the other room had heard. “The woman can’t even dress herself. Yesterday she wore a tie-dyed skirt and zebra print top beneath her red apron.”
“He told her he plans to go away soon—to New Zealand—which is halfway around the world. He didn’t mention this to me, so I doubt he intends to take me with him.”
Rachel elbowed her. “Kim! Don’t you see? That’s what he’s getting you for Christmas! Travel tickets.”
Kim nodded. “But that’s not what I want.”
The door opened, and Grandpa Lewy, a dashing sight in his black tuxedo, looked a far cry from the sick man he’d been six months earlier. “Is there anyone here who wants to get married?”
“That’s me,” Rachel said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Are you the man they broke out of the senior center to give me away?”
Grandpa Lewy chuckled, and then a tear slipped down his cheek, too. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m getting married,” she told him. “I’m not leaving you.”
He wiped his eyes. “Mike said he made an appointment to visit a real estate agent while you’re down in Hollywood for your honeymoon.”
Rachel hesitated. “He did?”
She only thought he suggested moving to California so she’d stop working and have babies, but now that she’d told him she’d like kids, she didn’t expect to move.
Her flower girls, Mia and Taylor, came up the stairs to join them. They both wore white dresses and had their hair piled up on their heads with a floral circlet. Then the door opened, and one by one they all made their way down the aisle. The flowers girls went first, followed by Kim, then Andi.
The music changed, and Rachel’s heart leaped into her throat. She swallowed hard, but she feared she might have to make a run for the bushes like Andi did the week before. Grandpa Lewy pulled her arm. She took a step, then looked down the long aisle and saw all eyes staring at her.
Mike’s brother, Tristan, and his wife, Danielle, whom she’d first met at the Crab, Seafood, and Wine Festival, were there, seated next to Mike’s parents. Guy Armstrong was next to her own mother—how did that happen?
Grandpa Lewy’s sweetheart, Bernice, and the ladies from the Saturday Night Cupcake Club were looking back at her. The Tuesday Afternoon Romance Writers—who were saps for anything romantic, including Mistletoe Magic cupcakes—were, of course, misty-eyed. One of them had even requested permission to include them all in one of her books, and Andi had agreed.
Andi’s stern-faced father and Ian Lockwell and his family were there. Their Creative Cupcakes employees, Eric, Heather, and Theresa, sat with her cousin, Stacey. And Caleb, Jake’s friend from a local media crew, stood with his video camera facing her, ready to film her every expression, her every move . . .
Usually she loved the limelight. But today she wondered . . . did she spend too much money? Had she really thought all this out? Did the skirt of her gown look like a giant white tutu? Did Mike really want to move to California?
Then she saw his face. He smiled at her, and everything in the whole world seemed perfect, just as she’d imagined . . . until the lights went out.
A collective gasp filled the darkened room. Rachel couldn’t see a thing. She tripped, and her grandfather must have tripped, too, because he landed on top of her.
“Rachel?”
“I’m here, Grandpa.”
Someone with large feet ran past her. Another set of footsteps, lighter, rushed behind the first.
A drop of liquid fell down and splattered on her cheek, followed by another. She raised her hand to her hair and realized she was getting wet.
“Someone turn off the sprinklers!” a voice shouted.
“Where’s the electric panel for the lights?” demanded another.
Rachel managed to pick up her skirt and climb back onto her feet just as a loud-ringing smoke alarm went off.
“Is there a fire?” Andi shrieked. “Mia! Taylor!”
Somewhere in all the confusion she heard Mike shout her name. “Rachel? Where are you?”
A bright beam from a flashlight circled the room, and Rachel caught sight of a figure in a Santa Claus suit high-tailing it past the guests with a sack over his shoulder.
“Stop him!” her cousin shouted. “He’s stealing the wedding gifts!”
The thief turned, and the flashlight illuminated a hairy green face with a large nose and sharp teeth turned upward in an evil grin.
“Grinch!” Taylor screamed, and her terrified cry added to the whirlwind of sound.
The flashlight fell to the ground. Rachel held onto Grandpa Lewy’s arm as people around her pushed and shoved. She feared she’d trip in the dark once agai
n, but then the overhead lights came back on.
It took another moment for her eyes to readjust, but when they did, she heard Mia cry out, “Max! How could you be so mean?”
A boy around eleven or twelve stood by the carving board, the roast beef in one hand, a Grinch mask in his other.
“Max!” Jake shouted, trying to pry Taylor’s fingers off his neck. “Wait!”
But the boy cringed, dropped the items in both hands beside the Santa suit on the ground, and ran for the door.
Andi hurried to Jake’s side. “Your Max and Mia’s imaginary friend are the same?”
Rachel handed Grandpa Lewy off to her mother and searched for Mike. She couldn’t see him, so she moved closer to Jake and Andi.
“Why would he do this?” Jake asked.
“Because Santa never brings Max presents,” Mia explained.
Mia’s blond hair stuck up out of her floral circlet in a discombobulated puff, and Rachel suddenly wondered what her own hair looked like. What about her dress? What about her flowers? What about her wedding?
“Who had the flashlight?” Andi asked.
Stacey stepped forward. “Me. I always carry one in my purse in case there’s . . . trouble.”
The devastation and the reality of the situation suddenly became clear, and Rachel couldn’t contain her Irish temper. “Why is there always trouble whenever you’re around?”
Stacey flinched. “This isn’t my fault.”
Mike, dressed in his black tuxedo with a mistletoe boutonniere, pushed through the crowd and found her.
“Rachel, are you all right?” he asked, taking her arm.
“Oh, Mike! Our wedding is ruined!”
“It doesn’t have to be. We can still get married.”
“What about the boy who ran off?”
“Officer Lockwell called the station, and the police are already looking for him.”
“Did you see what he did!” she exclaimed. “The tables are overturned, the food is destroyed; look at my chocolate fondue fountain all over the floor. Look at me—I’m all wet! And our gifts are gone. Oh, no! I bet he even took the wedding gift I had for you.”
“You bought me a gift? I thought we agreed not to buy each other gifts.” Mike stared at her. “We never needed any of this stuff to get married. Who needs ice sculptures and chocolate fountains, anyway? How much did all this cost?”
“Worried we won’t have enough to move to Hollywood?” she countered. “When were you going to tell me you planned to look at housing in California?”
Mike did a double-take. “We already talked about it when we agreed we should sell the shop for the one point two million.”
Andi’s mouth dropped open. “You want to sell the shop?”
“It might be a good idea,” Jake told them, “now that I got a job with the Washington Post and Andi and I are moving to Washington, D.C.”
Andi shook her head. “But when Mr. Pennyworth called back with another offer, I turned him down.”
“What?” Rachel demanded, hands on her hips. “Kim, did you know about this?”
“I don’t want to move!” Andi said. “I’m only doing it for Jake.”
Jake’s eyes widened, shock written all over his face, then he set his jaw. “I’m going after Max.”
A moment later he was gone.
“What’s wrong with you?” Kim screeched. “Andi? Rachel? You two were the ones who dragged me into the cupcake shop with you, and now I’m the only one who wants to stay?”
“Kimberly, you could travel,” Nathaniel said, placing a hand on her shoulder from behind.
Kim spun around. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to travel all the time. I love to travel, yes, but I want roots, a home, kids, a family.”
“You do?” Nathaniel’s mouth dropped open. “But I thought—”
“Did you see that young boy?” Kim said, pointing to the door. “Kids need a place they can call home.”
Kim, too, ran for the door, and Rachel threw her hands into the air. “The wedding is a disaster!”
“No, it’s not,” Mike told her. “Rachel, we’re still here. What’s more important—all your perfect party plans or me?”
Rachel shook her head. “We can’t get married like this.”
Mike hesitated, then nodded, his expression hard. “You know what? You’re right—we can’t.”
Mike stalked off behind everyone else exiting the building, and Rachel collapsed onto the floor, her dress encasing her in a heap of damp, satin-and-lace fluff.
Andi glanced back and forth between them. “Rachel, you have to go after him.”
Rachel looked up and met her gaze. “And what would I say?”
“Tell him there’s always hope,” Mia said, tugging on Andi’s hand. “C’mon, Mom, we have to find Max! No one should be alone on Christmas.”
Chapter Nine
* * *
One of the most glorious messes in the world is the mess created in the living room on Christmas Day. Don’t clean it up too quickly.
—Andy Rooney
KIM WALKED DOWN the street toward Creative Cupcakes not knowing what the day would bring. One thing was for sure: there hadn’t been any sugarplums dancing in her head Christmas Eve.
Nathaniel hadn’t called, or maybe he had, but her cell phone got wet at the Liberty Theater, and now it wasn’t working. She didn’t want to talk, anyway, or she would have borrowed a phone and called him.
For all she knew, he was halfway around the world by now. The handsome, blue-eyed, blond-haired Swede left his last girlfriend because she didn’t like to travel, and he didn’t want to be tied down. Now that she’d told him she didn’t want to be a globe-trotter either, it was possible Nathaniel had hopped the first plane to Sweden to spend Christmas with his family.
The streets were quiet, only one passing car. She imagined most people were just waking up, running to their stockings, opening gifts. Andi had gifts and stocking stuffers tucked away for Mia and Taylor, but they had planned to meet at the cupcake shop for their main celebration. If anyone still felt like celebrating. Merry Christmas, indeed!
She turned the corner and stopped short when she saw Rachel and Andi, Mia, and Taylor standing in front of their shop.
“Your pictures are back,” Mia called to her.
Kim drew closer and looked at the Christmas images painted on the window. The Grinch was gone, and someone had tried to duplicate the stocking, the tree, and the blue-buttoned snowman she had painted on there before. But it wasn’t the same. The brushstrokes had Max’s signature style written all over them. Did he feel guilty about what he’d done? Was this his way of trying to make amends?
The strands of Christmas lights, wreath, and jingle bells on the door had also been replaced, and Frosty, patched with duct tape, had been reinflated.
“Frosty came back to life on Christmas Day,” Mia said with a big smile, “just like he did in the cartoon on TV.”
Taylor clapped her hands. “Santa Claus must have come to the cupcake shop to drop him off!”
Kim pulled on a smile for the girls’ sake. “What did Santa bring you for Christmas?”
“I got a new doll,” Taylor said excitedly. “She walks and talks and can even ride a horse.”
“How about you, Mia?”
“I got a new sled, a video game, and some other stuff, but Santa didn’t bring as many presents this year. No Easy-Bake Oven.”
Andi cringed. “Maybe he didn’t have any left.”
Kim looked at Rachel, who remained silent. “Are you okay?”
Rachel shrugged. “Are you?”
Kim shook her head. “I don’t think I’m getting a ring.”
“I don’t think I’m getting married!” Rachel wailed.
Andi broke into tears. “I think I might be headed for a second divorce! Jake didn’t come home last night.”
Then all at once Kim ran toward them, and she, Rachel, and Andi were all hugging and crying and apologizing to each other.
&
nbsp; “I’m so sorry,” Andi said, wiping her eyes. “I should have told you about the second offer on the shop and Jake’s job offer in Washington, D.C.”
“I should have told you we wanted to sell and that Mike wants us to live in California,” Rachel admitted.
“I should have told you Nathaniel wanted me to use the money to take a year off and travel the world,” Kim added.
“We’re all the Grinch,” Andi declared. “We need to grow bigger hearts and promise to be honest with each other.”
“Agreed,” Rachel and Kim said in unison.
WHEN THEY ENTERED the shop, Andi took their golden cupcake cutter off the wall and a salted caramel cupcake out of the glass display case.
“All for one, one for all,” Andi said solemnly. “This is how we started. Together. And I think we need a cupcake to help us figure out what we want.”
Kim hesitated. “But it isn’t any of our birthdays.”
“Who cares?” Andi replied, splitting the cupcake three ways. “When we’re in despair and need to brainstorm, this is what we do.”
“I don’t want to sell the shop,” Kim told them.
“Me either,” Rachel agreed. “If Mike and I have babies, I want to raise them in Astoria, close to our families.”
“So do I,” Andi said, with a catch in her voice. “But Jake wants to move.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Jake came up behind Andi and kissed her neck. Then he nodded toward the cupcake in the center of the table. “Aren’t you going to cut that cupcake in four? I am your partner, you know.”
Kim smiled. Her sister got lucky when she met Jake. He really loved her.
“I forgot why I wanted to invest in this cupcake shop in the first place,” Jake said, giving Andi’s shoulder a squeeze. “My job at the newspaper wasn’t enough. I wanted a connection, to be a part of a team, to have a family again—like when I was young and my family ran the pizzeria.”
“What about your job offer?” Andi asked.
Jake grinned. “While I was out last night looking for Max, I called the Post editor and told him my decision.”
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