21. Chapter 21
Chapter 21
Lydia
T he spirit of Christmas is alive and buzzing at Blossoms in Bloom. Laura’s festive window display showcasing our gift ideas against a floral arrangement of poinsettias, holly, rose hips, ivy, and pinecones, has been a huge hit attracting Christmas customers to our store.
It’s Christmas Eve, traditionally, always a busy day with last-minute purchases and general panic buying. I’m digging deep into my reserves of patience as one final customer dithers by the woven reindeer. She picks up one, turns it over in her hands, puts it down again, then picks up another which is almost identical. The clock ticks past closing, and I wonder how long she is going to think about which reindeer to buy.
Marty and Laura peep out from the workroom to check on what is holding me up. I shrug and smile as best I can while willing the woman in front of me to make a decision and a purchase.
“This one is pretty,” she says holding up the first reindeer. “But I like the colors of this one.” She puts the two reindeer, side by side on the shelf, as if they are pulling an imaginary sleigh.
“Here’s an idea,” I say brightly, hoping desperation isn’t showing through my clenched teeth. “How about you get both? They’re so obviously a pair. It would be a shame to split them up. Wouldn’t it? How sad would that be?” I pick up one of the reindeer and pretend to gallop it away from its friend.
“Oh, goodness. You’re so right.” The customer looks sincerely troubled by the idea of splitting up a pair of best-friend reindeer. “Maybe they’re in love and will both die of a broken heart if I take one and not the other.” Tears well in her eyes. A reaction I had not considered.
“Here’s what we can do. Because it’s Christmas and you are my last customer for the year. I’m going to give you a special discounted price if you buy both.”
“Really? You are so kind, my dear. Well, in that case. Let’s take all six. They are so adorable I’m going to have such fun watching my grandchildren unwrap them tomorrow.”
“Done.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Let me put them in a pretty bag for you. If you’d like to follow me to the counter.”
I swipe the reindeer lady’s card and hand over the bag containing her gifts, then I usher her to the door before she sees anything else she may want to buy.
“Happy holidays,” I sing as I shut the door, lock it, and turn the sign over to read, ‘Closed’. Then I lean my back against the door and send up a prayer of thanks to the gods of retail. Marty is already at the till ringing up and printing the day’s takings. Laura helps by counting the cash.
“Nicely done there, boss,” says Marty. “Rather you than me.”
“I wasn’t even sure she was going to buy anything.” I tidy the shelves on my way back to the counter. “So many people come in, pick things up, put them down again, and move on their merry way without spending a dime.”
“So true,” says Laura laughing.
“Alright team, let’s do what we need to do, as quickly as possible, then we can tuck into our sweet treats that I’ve been looking forward to all day.”
Marty, Laura, and I agreed not to exchange gifts at Christmas. But we’ve made a tradition of sharing some Christmas goodies when we close up on Christmas Eve. We each have our specialty and try to outdo each other each year with elaborate and inventive decoration.
Marty is a master of the traditional rich fruit Christmas cake that he steeps in sherry for about a month before shrouding the moist cake in marzipan and decorating it beautifully in snow-white frosting and fun Christmas characters.
“You could go into business,” says Laura beaming at Marty’s fabulous Christmas cake creation. “Each year they get more bonkers and beautiful!”
“Why thank you, I think,” says Marty. “Yeah, but your gingerbread? Yum yum.” He takes one of the snowman-shaped cookies from the plate and nibbles off the head.
Our seasonal indulgence is interrupted by a knock on the door. My heart sinks as I immediately assume it’s Reindeer Lady back for a refund. But it’s Molly.
“Hey, girlfriend,” I say opening the door for her. “You’re just in time to join our festive feast.”
“Only if I’m not intruding,” says Molly with a shy smile.
“Not at all. Come on in.” I step aside to let Molly in, along with a chilly gust of wind, before forcing the door shut, locking it again, and checking that no more customers are about to barge their way in for that last-minute gift. Molly waves hello to the team.
I haven’t seen my friend for a few weeks. She has been away at Cam’s family reunion, somewhere in California.
“It was so great to meet everyone,” Molly says when I ask about her trip. “But it’s nice to be back home.” We retreat, out of sight, into the workroom. “I love the festive window display. Whose handiwork is that?”
Marty points at Laura, who smiles at Molly, then arranges our Christmas treats on a length of gift wrap that she has unrolled on the worktable. I present my Yule log, which is average at best this year. But everyone is too polite to say anything about it. I cut the chocolatey sponge roll into slices. But it is buttercream-heavy and falls into sticky blobs. We sit around the worktable on my collection of mismatched stools. We eat and get messy.
“Are you going to the Christmas carols service tonight?” asks Molly partway through a blob of Yule log. “Rev Manvers stopped by the library today with more flyers for the noticeboard. But I think he wanted to make sure that I hadn’t forgotten.”
“Of course, we’ll be there,” I say only just managing to articulate because frosting is sticking to my teeth. “And we’ll take what’s left from here for the after-party in the hall.”
Laura offers Molly a gingerbread snowman. “Thanks,” she says before biting off a leg. “It’s going to be so nice having a few days off.”
“Sure is,” says Marty. “I’m planning to do nothing. Although, my mom always has a list of things that need fixing when I go over to visit. It’ll be nice, though.”
“Yeah,” says Laura. “Here’s to time off…” She raises a piece of Christmas log in salute. “… because when we come back, it’s only a few short weeks before we’re in hyperdrive, as we get ready for Valentine’s Day.”
“Hah! Why did you have to say that now?” I moan like a petulant child. “I don’t even want to think about it. Let’s enjoy the holidays.”
There’s a break in conversation as we nibble some more, then Molly asks, “How did the horseback ride go? Was it fun?” Molly bites the head off her snowman. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since. What happened with Sheena? I saw her a couple of weeks ago. She was walking very strangely, as if she was in pain.”
“Ah yes. I don’t think she had a good time,” I say sheepishly. “Her pony bolted, and she put her back out.”
“Oh, no. Poor Sheena,” says Molly concerned. “And how are things going with Luke? Did they hit it off? Swap numbers? What’s happening there?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I put down the gingerbread snowman that I thought I wanted. Guilt from my part in the pony stampede has changed my mind. I’ve lost my appetite. “Perhaps they’re both too shy, face-to-face, in person?”
“Fair point,” says Laura. “I like to chat online before I meet up with potential boyfriends.” She takes out her phone and turns it on. “You learn a lot from what a person says in a chat. And what they don’t say. It allows you to weed out what you don’t want before the awkwardness of going on a date.”
“Gosh. Interesting.” I prick up my ears. “Are you on… What’s that dating app? Timber? FindMe?”
“No. I use this one.” Laura holds up her phone to show us an icon on the screen. “TheOne4U. It’s good. Easy to use. You just make a profile. You can upload a photo, if you want. Or create an avatar. Then you just type in what you’re looking for regarding a date mate.” Laura scrolls through some pictures of smiling young men.
“Could you type in something like, cowboy, horse guy, tall, aged 25 to 35ish? Lives around here?”
“Sure.” Laura types in some search terms and waits for a selection of possible matches to load.
“Wait a minute,” says Molly who is peering over Laura’s shoulder. “Isn’t that Luke? It looks like him, doesn’t it?”
Laura holds up her phone and enlarges the photo so that I can see. “It certainly is a striking resemblance,” I say. “What’s his name?”
“Well, we don’t know what his actual name is, but here on the app, it’s Lonesome Cowboy.”
“Is he looking for love or just a good time?” asks Marty with a cheeky grin.
“Says here that he’d like to meet a like-minded woman who enjoys the outdoors,” says Laura reading from the screen. “Someone who is happy and loves animals.”
“Ooh. Come on. We should go,” says Molly noticing the time. “The carols will be all sung and finished by the time we get there.”
“You’re right. Let’s wrap the cakes for later. Tis the season to be sharing,” I say as I usher everyone out of the store. But then, I hang back, turn on my phone, and download The One4U dating app. I quickly create a profile, but without uploading a photo, and name it, Hotel Babe. Then I message Lonesome Cowboy and wish him happy holidays.
“Lydia. Are you coming?” Molly yells through the open door.
“Yup. Just grabbing my purse,” I yell as I switch off the lights, shut the door, lock it, and scurry after my friends who are already halfway up the street.