Chapter 9
NINE
Joy
I flop over and try to adjust myself against my pillow, searching for sleep to claim me.
Unfortunately, as it’s been for the last thirty minutes, I can’t seem to calm my racing mind.
I even try to recite measurement conversions to ease my thoughts, but it’s not working.
In everything Burk worms his way into it.
Reaching for my phone, I hesitate just before the device is in my hand. I shouldn’t be texting him. I’m sure he’s home relaxing, and the last thing he needs is me interrupting his night with chitchat.
But then I recall how he seemed to be at war with himself as he was leaving, like he didn’t want to go.
In fact, he’d probably still be sitting in my living room, chatting, if he hadn’t noticed my yawns.
I’m certain he caught on to the fact it was nearing my bedtime.
My body starts to shut down at the same time every night, thanks to years of getting up at four in the morning.
I reach for the phone again, this time grabbing on to it and tapping the screen. Maybe sending him a quick message will appease my overactive brain, and I’ll be able to fall asleep finally.
Me
Hey, just checking to make sure you made it home ok.
The dancing dots appear almost instantly.
Burk
I did. Snow is starting to come down fast now. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to see this kind of snow, it’s refreshing and beautiful.
Me
It doesn’t snow in SC?
Burk
It does, but not like this. And we’re more toward the east side of the state, toward the ocean, so we don’t get it as often.
Me
I can’t imagine living somewhere with no snow.
Burk
It definitely took some getting used to, but the beaches and ocean waves make up for it.
Me
I guess, but that still doesn’t sound as appealing.
Burk
How come you’re not sleeping?
Me
Wanted to make sure you arrived back at your grandparents’ safely?
Burk
Is that a question? *insert laughing emoji*
Me
Fine. I was thinking about you.
Burk
I’ve been thinking about you nonstop too.
Me
What does this mean?
Burk
It means we have a lot of history and are enjoying getting to know each other again. At least, that’s what it means for me.
Me
Me too.
Burk
Good.
Burk
Gram says hello.
Me
Tell her hello from me.
Burk
She just got home from the rehab center. Gramps was moved and has situated well. He starts therapy tomorrow and is determined to be home by Christmas.
Me
He’s one of the strongest men I know, and if anyone can do it, it’s him.
Burk
Agreed. I’m gonna go visit him Tuesday. They gave me the day off, so I asked Gram about it. She said he’s gonna be thrilled to see me. Honestly, I’m a little nervous.
Me
I get it. If I were in your shoes, I’d probably be nervous too, but you shouldn’t be. His anger was at your dad, not you. I’m sure he regrets what transpired and the fact he distanced himself from you.
Burk
That’s what Gram says. I know you’re both right, but still. I haven’t seen him in about fifteen years.
Me
You’re going to reconnect like no time has passed. Just like you did with Gram.
I yawn, watching my phone for a reply to my latest message and glancing up at the top corner of the screen. Holy shit, it’s after eleven. We’ve been talking for two and a half hours when it feels like fifteen minutes.
Burk
I just noticed the time.
Me
Me too. I should try to sleep.
Burk
I’m so sorry. I feel like an asshole for keeping you up so late.
Me
Please don’t. I could have signed off at any point. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late either.
Burk
Still, I feel bad. 4 a.m. is gonna come early.
I can’t help but smile, feeling a little giddy.
Me
It will, but also…worth it. I’ve enjoyed talking to you.
Burk
Same, Easy-Bake. Same. Good night. Sweet dreams.
Me
Night, Burkey Turkey.
I replace my phone on the charger and curl into my pillow.
I’m still smiling, unable to stop. Why? Not just because I spent hours chatting with Burk—and of course, stealing a few kisses.
And there wasn’t even any mistletoe. It’s because I know my dreams will in fact be sweet.
They’ll be filled with thoughts of him, and most likely his amazing kisses.
Who would have thought little Burk Whitman would have grown up to be so dang gorgeous and such a good kisser?
The fourteen-year-old girl in me wouldn’t have dreamed about kissing her oldest friend.
But the twenty-nine-year-old woman? Oh, she’s definitely dreaming about it and will be praying for more.
More of his kisses are now at the top of my Christmas wishlist.
That’s exactly what I think about as I drift off to sleep.
“Fourteen dollars and seventy cents,” I tell my old kindergarten teacher.
“Keep the change, dear,” she replies with a familiar smile.
Taking the bills, I complete the transaction in the register, drop the change into the tip jar, and turn to finish her order.
I make her a cinnamon dolce latte, and a regular coffee with cream and sugar, and place a cinnamon roll with two forks on the counter.
Her husband is waiting at one of the bistro tables, his walker beside where he sits.
“Here ya go, Mrs. Emerson,” I state, grabbing a tray and setting her two steaming cups of Joe and the cinnamon roll on top so she can carry it easier.
“Oh, thank you, Joy. And you know, you can call me Evangeline now.”
“I do know,” I tell her. What I don’t say is that it feels disrespectful to do that, so I’ll continue to call her Mrs. Emerson.
The woman who is almost twenty-five years older than she was when she taught me in class grabs the tray. “Your holiday decorations always look so spectacular.”
“Thank you. It’s my favorite holiday to decorate for,” I tell her unnecessarily.
Anyone from here knows I go all-out when it comes to Christmas decorations.
My goal each year is to bring the magic of the season into my business.
I want it to feel like my bakery was plucked right out of the North Pole.
“It shows. It’s a wonderland of comfort and warmth in here. And the freshly baked goods surely help,” she adds with a smile and a wink before turning to join her husband.
I look up and smile as the bell chimes, announcing another customer. It’s almost nine o’clock, a little after the early morning work crowd rush.
“Please tell me you have one of those spiced cherry turnovers left,” my sister states as she makes a beeline to the counter. “And a very large, very caffeinated beverage. I’m not picky. Just something big and with a kick. Maybe a double shot of—” she adds, a yawn interrupting her words.
“Why are you so tired?” I ask, yawning the moment she does. They’re contagious.
“Biggie was trying to impregnate Miss Snowflake all night. Like allllll night, Joy. I don’t know how in the world he was able to…you know. Because, alllll night!”
I can’t help but giggle. “But you had them fixed,” I remind her, working my magic at the coffee machine as I prepare her a gingerbread mocha.
“Don’t I know, but that’s not stopping him. He’s insatiable,” she grumbles, reaching for the drink before I even have a chance to place it on the counter. “Oh my God, this is like heaven in a cup.”
“Thanks,” I reply, pulling one of the turnovers out of the case. I make sure to grab the one with the most gooey drizzle on top. “Here.”
“You’re saving my life, and my sanity,” she replies, taking the fork and diving right into her breakfast treat. I yawn a second time since her arrival, and she clearly notices. “Why are you so tired?”
I clear my throat and reach for the cleaning rag, wiping down the counter. “Umm, well, I was talking to someone later than normal.”
Her eyebrows shoot upward. “Would this someone happen to be Burk Whitman?”
I toss the rag in the sink and prop my hip against the counter. “Maybe.”
She squeals, grabs her goodies, and practically runs around the counter. “Tell me everything.”
“Hey, Eve,” Jan greets, coming out of the kitchen with a tray of cookies.
“Hi, Jan.”
“Jan, I’m gonna take a quick five minutes with Eve,” I tell the woman who has worked beside me at the bakery since it opened.
“Take your time,” she states, rearranging the display case as she adds the freshly baked cookies I made a bit ago.
We pick a table the farthest from customers and sit. “Spill,” my sister insists, diving back into her turnover.
“He came over for dinner, helped me decorate my tree, and…he kissed me,” I whisper, feeling a ripple of warmth rush through my veins at the memory.
“Of course he did,” she murmurs, reaching for her mocha and taking a sip. “And?”
I glance around quickly, my heart fluttering in my chest. “Amazing.”
“Whoop!” she cheers. “Isn’t it the best feeling? Like every other kiss before you find ‘the one’ doesn’t even compare?”
“The one? Hold your horses, John Wayne. You’re putting the cart before the horse.”
My sister giggles. “That was a lot of western references in a very short period of time.”
“Because you are jumping the gun,” I reply, wishing I had grabbed a sweet treat for myself. If I have to talk about kissing Burk and what it means, I definitely require sugar.
“Maybe,” she replies casually with a shrug. “Anyway, so he kissed you—”
“Twice,” I interrupt, my foot tapping on the floor.
“Nice. Okay, so he kissed you twice, and then what?”
“Well, nothing. I mean, after he left, we texted until after eleven something last night, and we have plans to go to the festival this weekend together.”
“Aww, that’s sweet, but there’s nothing romantic about spending the evening surrounded by sugared-up residents of the people of this town.”
“Didn’t you and John basically have a first date at the festival?”
She waves off my comment. “Totally different.”
I bark out a laugh. “Right,” I reply, not believing her for a second. “The difference is you and John were meant for each other. Burk and me, well, we’re not.”
She watches me intently before asking, “Why do you think that?”