Holly Pointe & Mistletoe : A heartwarming holiday romance

by Cindy Kirk

  Mel’s gaze turned thoughtful. “She purchased it when I was three, so that means she’s owned it for over twenty-five years.”

  Stella took a sip of her Green River and tried to recall what she knew about Mel’s parents. Not much, she realized. “What about your father? Does he help out, too?”

  “My dad died not long after I was born. A freak construction accident.” Mel’s gaze scanned the dining area, as if making sure the two servers had everything under control. Satisfied, she refocused on Stella. “Mom married my stepdad, Bruce, when I was six. That marriage lasted nearly ten years, but Mom was smart enough to get a prenup, so when they split, he didn’t have any claim on the diner.”

  “Do you think he’d have tried to take half?” Stella kept her tone offhand.

  “I don’t think so.” Mell shrugged. “But it wasn’t a happy marriage.”

  “Ten years is a long time to stay when you’re unhappy.”

  “I think Mom stuck it out for so long because she doesn’t like to fail at anything.” Mel shrugged. “The marriage wasn’t horrible. They just weren’t a good fit.”

  Stella nodded sympathetically. “Not happy like Kenny and Norma. Norma was telling me she and Kenny will be married fifty years in January.”

  “No, nothing like Kenny and Norma.” Mel’s smile lit up her face, chasing away the signs of fatigue. “That marriage is a match made in heaven.”

  “Norma admitted they’ve had rough times. Something about a lot of stress when their eldest daughter was first diagnosed with diabetes.” Stella kept it vague, hoping Mel would fill in.

  “My mom mentioned something about Kenny having a rough go of it when Leslie was diagnosed. Apparently, Kenny’s mom had diabetes and had a lot of issues because of it, so he was extra worried when Leslie got the diagnosis.”

  Before Stella could ask any questions, Mel continued.

  “I wasn’t even born then, so I don’t really don’t know what went on.” Mel picked up the paper from the straw and folded it. “What I know is that I’ve never seen a happier couple than Kenny and Norma.”

  Stella decided there was no point in asking more questions. It was apparent if anyone had the information she sought it would be Rosie, not Mel.

  “I almost forgot to mention, I saw your brother this morning.” Stella switched topics. “He was with his friend, Zach.”

  “They’re together a lot. Derek and Zach are business partners,” Mel informed her. “As well as best friends. He was always over at our house. In fact, Zach and I dated in high school.”

  “That’s interesting.” Though her gaze remained fixed on Mel, Stella kept her tone casual, as she stirred the ice in her drink with the straw. “Now that you’re back in town, do you think you’ll pick up where you left off?”

  Mel made a face. “It’s too soon for me to think about dating again.”

  “Was there someone special in Burlington?”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t going anywhere.” Mel straightened. “It’s for the best we’re no longer together.”

  “I’ve had a few relationships that time and distance assured me I was better off without.” Stella hesitated for just a second. “My last error in judgement ended up being married.”

  The spoon Mel had been toying with slipped from her fingers and clattered to the table. “You dated someone who was married?”

  “I didn’t know he was married.” Stella expelled a breath, feeling stupid all over again. “Tony said he was single. Looking back, I realize there were signs I ignored. Not necessarily flashing neon lights that said “This Guy Is Married,” but indications that he was involved with someone else.”

  “I’m sorry.” Reaching across the table, Mel covered Stella’s hand with hers. “I can’t imagine how betrayed you felt.”

  “It hurt,” Stella admitted.

  “You cared about him.”

  “At the time.” Stella gave a little laugh. “But once I stepped back, I realized something. I liked Tony, but I didn’t love him. I was using him to keep the loneliness at bay. If we’d ever made the mistake of getting married, we’d never have gone the distance. We’d have eventually broken up, like your mom and Bruce.”

  Stella paused for breath and realized with sudden horror that she’d been rambling. Worse, she’d been spilling her secrets to someone she’d just met. Though she had to admit, she felt closer to Melinda than she did to friends she’d had for years.

  “I’m sorry, Mel.” Stella could feel the heat on her cheeks. “You’ve got enough on your plate without listening to my stories of past mistakes.”

  “We’re friends,” Mel paused as if seeking confirmation of that fact.

  Stella nodded.

  “Well, friends listen and friends console.” Mel’s lips quirked upward. “Sometimes they even kick each other in the butt if one of them is acting particularly stupid.”

  “Which I was.”

  “You moved on.” Mel’s gaze grew distant. “I moved on. That makes us strong, brilliant women.”

  Mel must have seen the questions in Stella’s eyes because she held up one hand. Two bright patches of color now prominent on her pale cheeks. “I’ll save my big mistake story for another time when we have lots of wine and more privacy.”

  “Whenever.” Stella told her.

  “It may be a while. The episode is still fresh. I need some time to process.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Take all the time you need.”

  Mel lifted a brow. “Do I take that to mean you’ve decided to remain in Holly Pointe?”

  “Let’s just say I’m giving it serious consideration.” It was unfair to lead Mel on—and to lead herself on as well. While Stella had started to think how nice it would be to make a home here, she had to be realistic.

  Her life was in Miami. Her job was in Miami.

  And once the article came out, Stella would be persona non grata in this town.

  Unless, she didn’t turn in the story . . .

  But that was crazy. She’d made a commitment to Jane, and she needed to complete the assignment.

  “Are you okay?”

  Stella blinked. “I’m fine. I was just wondering if you’d seen Faith.”

  “I believe she’s working in her shop all day.” Mel thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, she mentioned having some projects she needed to finish up and get out in the mail.”

  “Her shop?”

  “Her business—Faith Original—is located a couple of blocks from here on Willow Street.” Mel’s expression relaxed, as if thinking of Faith brought comfort. “Christmas is her busiest season. I was actually surprised to see her at the lake on Saturday. But she takes her job as president of the chamber very seriously.”

  “What kind of business is Faith Original?” Stella asked.

  Mel smiled. “Once you finish here, you need to stop over and see for yourself.”

  Like all the shops in the area, the frontage for Faith Original was dressed for Christmas. Someone with considerable talent had painted white birch trees on the window along with little snowflakes. Six or seven cardinals in flight accented the rows of tiny red lights edging the bottom and top of the window.

  A black sign with white lettering proclaimed, “Faith Original.” The black-and-white look was crisp and professional, and the swirly hand-lettered font added a touch of whimsy.

  The whimsy had Stella smiling as she pushed open the door to the sound of tinkling silver bells. Like Mel, she always smiled when she thought of Faith.

  The shop wasn’t large, but somehow the showroom managed to hold every manner of signs without seeming cluttered. Stella saw all sizes; from small ones that could fit in her palm to ones that would fill a good-size space on any wall.

  One large one held only words in a bold script that spoke of love. The first line had Stella’s heart squeezing tight. “Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them.”

  Was that what she was doing? Pretending to love this town and the people in it while gett
ing ready to put a knife in their back?

  It was as if the sign was speaking directly to her. Stella shifted her gaze and reminded herself that there was nothing wrong with gathering and reporting factual information.

  The door to the back room opened, and Faith hurried out. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting—”

  Her smile widened when she saw Stella. Faith held out both hands as she crossed the room, easily dodging a display reading, “Smile. Sparkle. Shine.”

  On this table were signs with magic wands, some strewn with glitter, and a few with only words. Stella’s favorite was the one proclaiming, “She leaves a little sparkle wherever she goes.”

  She wondered whether that’s how the citizens of Holly Pointe would view her once they read her article. Or would they see her as someone who whipped up a storm, then left town?

  Stella didn’t have time to do more than wonder because her cold hands were caught up in Faith’s warm ones. There was something about the woman that soothed and steadied her.

  Perhaps it was the way Faith always looked you straight in the eyes with a friendliness that made you feel completely accepted. Or the slow way she had of speaking, with just the merest hint of southern accent. An accent that, Stella realized, hadn’t registered until just this moment.

  Stella had assumed that Faith had grown up in Holly Pointe. But she was obviously a transplant. The thought piqued Stella’s curiosity.

  “You have a lovely shop.” Stella squeezed Faith’s hands then stepped back.

  “It’s small but, because most of my business is online, it works.” Faith picked up a rustic sign from the Christmas display that read “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” “This is a huge seller, but surprisingly I also sell quite a few of ‘Seas and Greetings.’”

  Stella studied the blue crabs with the Santa hats. “I love the font and the crabs. I can see people in Florida going for this one.”

  “That’s the state where most of those end up being shipped,” Faith confirmed.

  “Do you paint them all yourself?” Stella was amazed at the detail and the skill.

  “I do.” Faith smiled. “A labor of love.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “I’m blessed to be able to do something that brings people joy and brings me a livable income.” Setting down the Christmas sign, Faith moved to a display containing what Stella thought of as motivational sayings.

  Faith picked up one that was striking in its simplicity. “Be Kind Be Bold Be Brave Be You.”

  The message had Stella’s gut clenching.

  “I’d like you to have this one. Consider it an early Christmas gift.” Faith held it out. “This reminds me of you.”

  Stella saw no choice but to take the sign. “It’s lovely, but how does it remind you of me?”

  “Partially because you’re a reporter.”

  “Former reporter,” Stella clarified.

  “I imagine being a reporter is as much who you are as what you do. Oh, forgive my lack of manners. Please, let me take your coat.”

  Stella took off her hat and slipped out of the coat.

  After stuffing the knit cap into the coat sleeve, Faith hung the parka on a lovely antique coat tree with porcelain hooks. Then she gestured to Stella to have a seat in a wooden folding chair that was as ancient as the coat tree.

  “What do you mean that being a reporter is as much who I am as what I do?”

  “I believe to be a good reporter you have to be open-minded and compassionate. You have to possess a desire to tell the truth.” Faith’s soft brown eyes warmed. “Those characteristics are at the core of who you are, whether you’re currently employed by a newspaper or not.”

  Stella’s hands tightened around the sign she held in her lap. “A reporter sometimes offends. It’s the nature of the beast.”

  “Of course,” Faith concurred. “Bringing the truth to light takes courage. Exposing wrong takes being brave. But under it all is the knowledge that what you’re doing, what you’re writing, matters and is for the greater good.”

  Chapter Nine

  An hour and two cups of herbal tea later, Stella left Faith’s shop with her sign in a shopping bag and a heavy heart. Her cheery mood of the morning had taken a serious nosedive.

  Faith’s admiration and view of journalistic integrity was misplaced. Naïve, Stella told herself, latching on to the word. Yes, Faith’s view of journalism was naïve and not at all in sync with life in the twenty-first century.

  Stella tried not to think too hard about the fact that up until a year ago, she herself had viewed the industry in the same way as Faith. But things changed, and reporters had to change with them or go the way of the buggy whip.

  Or stand in the unemployment line.

  There was absolutely nothing wrong with writing a factual story about a small town in northern Vermont. Stella had already made it clear to Jane that she would not include any information she hadn’t verified.

  It was a weak argument for betraying her new friends. A story about a small Christmas town didn’t need to include a drunken Santa or a couple’s marital issues. If money was diverted to wrong sources, that would make sense to include. The other two smacked of sensationalized journalism.

  Still, Stella reminded herself for the zillionth time, if she didn’t write this story, someone else would. At least she would be factual. She had a couple of reporter friends who wouldn’t care whether what they wrote was skewed.

  Better her than them, she reassured herself.

  Though school wouldn’t get out for another hour, Stella decided to head to the hill on the high school’s north side for some preliminary shots. Faith had said the school was within walking distance but had advised driving.

  Stella decided the fresh air was what she needed to clear her head. Unfortunately, the wind had picked up, and she was walking right into it. She told herself that would only make the trek home more pleasant.

  She tugged up the scarf with her gloved hands, making sure it covered her nose and mouth. The sidewalks were cleared, but the walk soon felt endless.

  “Hey,” a familiar deep voice called out. “Want a lift?”

  Stella was no fool. She scurried—well, as much as you could scurry while wearing Ugg boots on snowy sidewalks—toward Sam’s truck. Wrenching open the door, she slid inside. The warmth wrapped around her like a lover’s caress.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Pushing down the scarf to expose her face, Stella shot him a rueful smile. “It’s colder out there than it looks.”

  “The wind picked up.”

  “I noticed that.” She leaned her head against the back of the seat and reveled in the air from the heater.

  “Where were you headed?”

  “The high school. Faith said it was a little over a mile from her shop. She told me I should drive.” The warmth from the heated seat was heavenly. “I should have listened to her.”

  Sam made no move to put the truck into gear, but Stella didn’t care. She was out of the wind and warming up. That’s all that mattered right now.

  “It’s closer to two miles from her shop to the school.” Sam’s concerned gaze swept over her.

  “So I had another mile to go?”

  “A little less, but close enough.”

  Stella made a face. “Then, I’m doubly glad you stopped to give me a ride.”

  “What’s at the school?”

  “Sledding. I wanted to get some pictures.”

  She didn’t say more, didn’t have to, as she could see the recognition in Sam’s dark eyes even before he nodded.

  “You planned to walk home in the dark?”

  “What? No,” she shook her head. “I wasn’t going to stay that long. Just an hour or so.”

  “It’s winter. The sun will set around four.”

  Stella cocked her head. “It doesn’t set until around five thirty in Miami.”

  “You’re farther north.”

  “I can tell.” Stella took o
ff her gloves and rubbed her hands together then stuck them under her legs, letting the warmth of the seat heat them up.

  Sam’s gaze turned sharp and assessing. “Your coat is adequate, and so is the hat. But you need better gloves. Mittens are warmer. Look for ones that are arctic rated.”

  Stella glanced down at the ones in her lap. “These were fine for skiing.”

  He shrugged. “They weren’t keeping your hands warm today.”

  “You’re right, they didn’t.”

  Sam reached across her and opened the glove box. “Take the pair in there. You can use them until you get new ones that work.”

  Stella took the mittens. Even she could see they’d be too big. “But they’re—”

  “I realize they’re big. But they’re also warm.”

  Thanks to the air blowing on her and the heated seats, her fingers were warming up. But Stella knew once she stepped out of the truck, her hands would be cold again.

  “Thank you.” She sighed. “I’ll have to take them off to snap pictures.”

  “Once you’re done, put them on again.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re bossy?” But her tone teased, and he grinned.

  “Only you. Now put on your seatbelt, and I’ll drive you to the high school.”

  Sam watched Stella put the mittens on then take them off during the short drive to the school.

  She studied the inside. “All of this winter stuff is still new to me.”

  “You didn’t grow up in this climate.” Sam kept his tone light. “I’m sure you could teach me a thing or two about alligators and lizards.”

  She chuckled. “More than you probably want to know.”

  “Around here, there really isn’t a lot to learn. When it’s cold, you dress warmly. You don’t go out in a blizzard if you can help it. You steer a car in the direction of a skid and you make sure your vehicle always has plenty of gas.” He paused for a moment. “That’s about it.”

  “You forgot one thing.” She pinched the glove between her finger and thumb and dangled it in the air. “Mittens are warmer than gloves.”

  “You’re a quick study, Ms. Carpenter.” Sam kept his tone light. “If you decide to stay, by next winter you’ll be a pro at this stuff.”