Sable
“If it isn’t Trouble herself…” The serious feminine tone catches me off guard for a second, even as the frosty evergreen scent hits me.
I spin around, spotting a girl I’ve known since I was seven years old.
“Hey, Sugarbat.” She waves at me, grinning brightly.
The sight of her brings me to tears instantly.
I swear, I never cry this much in one day!
“Sugarplum!” I squeal, dropping everything I was working on to rush her for a massive hug that ejects all the air from my lungs.
Plum and I have been friends for years, but we’ve been calling each other by our nicknames as long as we’ve known each other.
Sugarplum and Sugarbat. A match made in mischief.
“Fuck, it’s so good to have you back, and just in time for the holidays. We are going to have so much fun!” She’s still holding onto me tightly as she starts jumping up and down, making me laugh. The hint of peppermint in her scent blooms, and it sets me at ease.
“It’s so good to see your face,” I confess, as my chest swells with emotion.
We’ve kept in touch over the years after I left town, and she stayed behind to help her dad.
He runs a pretty impressive Christmas tree farm.
And no matter how I tried, I never managed to make any friends that could compare to the closeness we share.
Plum is one of a kind. Her heart is so big, and her kindness is unmatched. But if you cross someone she loves, she’ll cut you. And I do mean that literally. She once used a pair of scissors to stab a handsy guy back in high school.
Her long, naturally white hair practically sparkles in the soft lighting of the shop, reminding me of fresh snow in the moonlight.
The woman is beautiful, and I’ve always been jealous of her hair, but in my opinion, her most unique feature is her dazzling silver eyes.
I used to tease her about being a Christmas elf when we were kids, and sometimes, in the right lighting, I still think I might be right.
“I hope you’re ready for a busy October, because the fun starts tonight,” Plum says with a bright smile, wiggling her dark brows at me. “The pumpkin patch is open, and I got us tickets. Nearly the whole town is going because it’s gotten to be so epic.”
“Are you trying to convince me to go, or hide here all night? Because I’d rather turn into a pumpkin at midnight than face the whole town's bullshit in one night,” I sigh, pulling away from her hug and turning to pick up the items I dropped.
She smells just like Christmas, and I mentally plot a candle just for her.
Frosty Fir. Fresh snow on evergreen needles, peppermint, candle smoke, and white musk.
“I knew you’d say that, which is why your Grams arranged for you to speak with Rhian about setting up a spot for your candles in his farm shop,” she chirps, and I whirl around once again careful to not drop anything, watching her fiddle with an antique bell on one of the tables.
She collects old things. I make a mental note to remove it from the display to give to her later.
“She was very clear about her wishes for you in this town. She also negotiated with three other stores to sell them as well.”
“She did not talk to Rhian,” I groan, but she simply shrugs, putting the bell back down.
“Oh, she sure did! So yes, golden boy knows you’re back in town, and he’s expecting to see you tonight.” She shrugs again, turning to fiddle with another trinket on one of the shelves.
“How long have I been back? Not even long enough to get my things unpacked, and you’re already helping Grams from beyond the grave and stirring up trouble for me?” I grumble, shaking my head at her. “Speaking of, how about you help me bring my bags upstairs, you meddlesome pain in my butt.”
After setting everything down, I stomp out the back door, this time propping it open, so I don’t get locked out like I did a few hours ago. I’m careful of the rickety steps as I head toward my car.
“In my defense, you need to get your ass out there and rip off the Band-Aid. The old hags are going to gossip no matter what you do. And I know you well enough to know that you’d rather be accused of having a good time than have them accuse you of hiding from them,” Plum argues as she follows me out the door.
I unlock my faded orange old car and pop the trunk, grabbing two suitcases to carry upstairs.
I don’t wait for Plum, but I know she won’t be far behind me since I don’t have a lot left to bring up.
“Maybe I want to cultivate a new image. Maybe I don’t want to be known as the bad girl with a troubled past. Maybe I want to be known as the good girl now,” I say, as I make my way carefully up the steps at the back of the shop.
This town acts as if I were some horrible hooligan back in the day. I mean, sure, there was that time I kidnapped a goat and set it loose in our school.
And then there was that other time that Taron and I got caught breaking into Gravewood History Museum, our small town’s sad attempt at a museum.
I grunt as I unlock the door at the top of the stairs that opens to the living area of a cozy loft-style apartment.
Grams had it made as a guest suite, since the home she lived in her entire life, the same one she raised me in, was once her parents' house just ten minutes down the street. As a teen, we’d come up here after hours to have tea or talk about my teenage drama, before heading home.
Not much has changed since then, except for the addition of a plush green leather chair under the window, one that used to be in my childhood home.
The ache in my chest at the thoughtful gesture makes me smile.
Maybe she knew I’d move back to town one day, and wouldn’t want to live in the house she raised me in.
Too many memories. One day, I’ll get the keys from Bee and pack up Gram’s things. One day.
The apartment is modest, but it’s got everything I need.
The space feels bigger with the kitchen opening up into the living area, with bar top stools at the small island that holds the sink.
I know if I walk down the short hallway, the first door leads to the small bathroom, while the next opens up into the only bedroom.
It’s more than enough for a single omega like me.
I moved around so much over the last six years that I don’t have very many possessions.
I tried so hard to convince myself that I just needed to start fresh for the next place to feel like home, but it never did.
This apartment though? This feels right.
This is my first time being up here since Grams passed, and as I step further into the space, it hits me again.
This is my life now. Life without the world's best woman. The sweetest, kindest soul. She had her struggles, and I know she wasn’t perfect, but she was mine, and she couldn’t have been more perfect to me.
“Miss you, Grams,” I whisper, so Plum doesn’t hear me, but my scent doesn’t lie. The second she steps in behind me, she knows something is wrong, and because she knows me so well, she can probably guess the culprit.
“Oh, come here, my little Sugarbat,” Plum sets down the suitcase she was carrying, pulls me in for another hug, and though I’ve been hugged more today than I have in months, I can’t help but feel a little hollow.
Grams gave the best hugs. Or maybe, there was just so much love in one hug that nothing else has ever compared.
“She was one bomb ass old lady, wasn’t she?” I ask, sniffling.
“Coolest chick I ever knew,” Plum teases, squeezing me extra hard before stepping back.
“Let me help you unpack and decorate. That’ll help,” Plum offers, sniffing as she swipes away her own tears.
She knew Grams for sixteen years, and I know she misses her too.
And this is her first time up here without Grams to greet her.
“Let’s watch Hocus Pocus while we’re at it?” I ask, she knows that’s my favorite movie, just like I know hers is Elf.
“Sure. But you still have to go to the pumpkin patch with me tonight. And we’re wearing matching costumes.
” She chuckles at my pointed glare, grabbing the suitcase and rolling it into the center of the living room before tipping it on its side and unzipping it.
The little bedroom had no space for a dresser, so the antique piece that the TV sits on is actually the only clothes storage in the apartment.
“Whyyyy,” I whine, crossing my arms over my chest and stomping my foot. “I don’t feel like dealing with the Nosy Nelly Nonsense right off the bat.”
Plum throws her head back and laughs hard. Her laugh is so contagious that I can’t help but join her. She has that effect on people. To know her is to love her.
“You could be named a saint by the church, any church really, and those bitches would still gossip about you like you’re the town harlot,” Plum points out as she starts pulling my messy bundles of clothes out of the suitcase and folds them neatly for me, and I sigh. She’s got a decent point there.
“Fine, but if one person says something nasty, then I’m leaving.” I pause. “And never going back,” I add, crossing my fingers.
“Alternatively, I can just spill my drink on them, and then they can leave,” Plum offers sweetly, “but you’re definitely going back.”
“Now that’s something I would pay to see.” I giggle, not commenting on whether I’ll return of my own free will or not.
Maybe this is a bad idea, but despite all the reasons not to go, I do really want to see Rhian again.
We were close once.
And this is my town, just as much as it is anyone else's. I shouldn’t feel the need to hide just because some people are bitter old hags.