Chapter 6
“Out of All the Reindeer,
You Know You’re The Mastermind”
Wren paced by her front window, chewing her fingernail to a nub. How could she have agreed to this? She should have canceled.
Lights panned across the snow, and Logan’s black truck came into view. Too late to cancel now.
She meant to get out the door as soon as he pulled up, but she needed a moment to calm her breathing. It took longer than usual to pull herself together. She flinched when he knocked.
With a shaky hand and an unsure belly, she pasted on a smile and opened the door, doing her best to play it casual. “Hi.”
“These are for you.” He revealed a stunning bouquet of sunflowers and eucalyptus branches.
“Oh, Logan, they’re beautiful.” She took the flowers inside, and he followed.
“I remember you telling me once that sunflowers were your favorite.”
She looked back at him, surprised. “You do?” He was right, of course, but Wren had no recollection of that conversation.
“Yeah. Sometime after our moms died. You said lilies used to be your favorite, but there were so many at the funeral that you no longer liked them. I asked what your second favorite was, and you said sunflowers.”
She was speechless. She hated the scent of lilies now, but had forgotten why. He was right. She associated the smell with sadness.
“Well,” she breathed in the sunny blooms. “These are beautiful. I don’t even know where you find sunflowers this time of year.”
“I have my ways.”
“I’ll just put them in a vase and then we can go.”
“No rush. How was your day?”
She wasn’t used to anyone asking her about her day and it caught her off guard. “My day was good.”
“What did you do?”
She searched for a vase. “I, uh, taught my noon class, helped my dad mend a few of the cat houses, and did the kitchen inventory with Freya. She’s talking to Mia about having a photoshoot for the new menu.
Mia’s also been photographing content for all our social media. Things are really coming together.”
“Freya’s the new chef you hired?”
“Yeah.”
“How’s she working out?” He pulled out a stool, making himself comfortable at the counter.
“I like her a lot. And the guests really like her style of cooking. She specializes in traditional Nordic dishes. I mean, right now, she’s only doing breakfast and afternoon teas, but I hope to get her on special event dinners soon. We have one planned for the winter solstice.”
“I love how your face lights up when you talk about The Haven.” He caught her hand and squeezed. “Your mom would be proud.”
Something heavy shifted in her chest. “Thanks, Logan. I hope so.”
The Haven was named after her mother. She’d been the one who taught her how to do yoga, garden, and appreciate the seasons for the lessons they taught. Everything about her business was inspired by the way her mother lived. In a way, it kept her alive and present in Wren’s life.
“You should probably put those in water.”
Realizing they were still holding hands, she let him go and unwrapped the paper from the bouquet. “Oh, what’s this?” It looked important, a stiff envelope with a candy cane taped on top, so she passed it to Logan.
“Nope, it’s for you.”
She turned the small vintage Christmas card over, and read, “Go where you were when Wendy first met Pan.” She frowned. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s a clue.”
“A clue to what?”
“Our date. I made us a scavenger hunt.”
“Really?” She beamed, curious excitement overtaking the nervousness that had first filled her belly. “That’s so clever. And thoughtful.” She couldn’t believe he’d planned something so extravagant. Looking back at the clue, she reread it and tried to put the pieces together. “Neverland?”
“Close. You have to think back to our childhood. Don’t take the story reference so literally.”
“So you’re talking about the book, not the movie.”
“Correct.”
She set the flowers in water and arranged the blooms. When they were younger, Magnus used to make the boys go to the library to do their homework.
She and Logan would pass the time reading fiction in the children’s section while they waited for his older brothers to finish their assignments.
That was where she first read J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan.
“The library?”
He lifted his keys. “Only one way to find out.”
Giddy to play this game with him, she grabbed the flannel by the door.
Logan stilled. “Is that Greyson’s?”
“Oh.” She looked down guiltily. “He loaned it to me when I lost my coat. If it bothers you, I don’t have to wear it.”
“No, it’s cool. When did you see Grey?” He held open the door and waited as she locked it.
She didn’t want to think about the other day when Greyson came by because she was still embarrassed. The longer he avoided seeing her again, the worse she felt about the things she’d done and said.
“He stopped by about the snow.”
“Of course he did.” Logan rolled his eyes and opened the passenger door for her—something he didn’t typically do.
“Why do you say it like that?” She hauled herself onto the seat.
“That’s just typical Greyson. Disappears three seasons of the year and shows up like a hero whenever there’s snow. It’s how he ensures people don’t give him grief about his disappearing act.”
“I see him in the other seasons.”
“That’s because you’re a little forest witch and he lives out in the woods like he’s Bigfoot’s long-lost cousin.”
She laughed. “He has a nice place out there.”
He paused from buckling his seat belt. “You’ve been to his place?”
“Of course. I was there as soon as he finished construction, just like I came by all of your places when you moved out on your own.”
He started the truck and was quiet for a moment. “I just don’t understand how anyone could be that introverted. Grey never used to be like that.”
“Maybe he just likes his privacy.”
“I’d go out of my mind. All he does is make furniture all day and cut wood. He doesn’t even have a television.”
“He reads, and when he wants to watch a game, he usually goes to The Chowder House Rules.”
“You defend him too easily.”
“I defend all of you boys.”
“I guess.” He glanced at her as he drove toward the library. “And we’re not boys anymore, Wren.”
She shrugged. “You’ll always be my boys.”
“Well... we’re men now.”
She smirked at his need for validation. “Fine. Men it is.”
When they parked, there was only one other car in the lot.
She hoped to see Mrs. Zian, the old librarian who used to run the library when they were kids, but a younger woman with glasses sat behind the counter.
Logan said hello as they walked past, and the woman smiled.
She looked about their age, but Wren didn’t recognize her.
When they got to the children’s section, everything was much smaller than she recalled. The old, braided rug had been replaced with a large, circular rug that resembled a globe. The shelves were shorter than she remembered, and the walls were painted a different color.
“Wow. It looks so different.”
“Still smells the same.”
Wren breathed in the scent of paper, ink, and pine cleaner, then grinned. “It does.” She scanned the shelf and spotted a red envelope. “Oh!”
Stuffed like a bookmark inside Peter Pan, she tipped the spine and withdrew the clue, pulling out another vintage postcard with a Christmas scene on the front tied to a candy cane and a long string.
She opened the card and read, “Put this on.”
Pulling the string, a pair of mittens tugged free of the bookcase. When she stuck her hand in the mitten, she found another clue, this one written on an old holiday recipe card.
“I hope you’re feeling lushy because we’re off to get some slushies.” She smiled and looked at him expectantly. “The corner store?”
“Only one way to find out.”
She put on her hat and waved with an almost giddy bounce to her step when they passed the librarian. “Have a nice night!”
When they reached the corner store where they used to get slushies after school, Logan let her lead the way. She walked in and out of the aisles but found no clue. When she asked the clerk if he had a clue, he looked at her like she was insane.
“Are we in the wrong place?”
“You haven’t checked everywhere yet.”
She remembered they used to sit out back on the palettes and boxes with their slushies, so she went around back. “Oh, my gosh!”
A bottle of wine waited on a stack of palettes with a quilt draped over them. Two milk crates were flipped over as chairs.
“Table for two?” He waved his hand like a ma?tre d’.
Once she sat down, he uncorked the wine and lit the small candle in a mason jar. “I can’t believe you went to all this trouble.”
“We spent a lot of time here back in the day.”
“I remember.” She turned the bottle and snorted. It was the swill they used to steal from her Aunt Astrid’s house. “I didn’t know they still made this.”
“I wanted to be nostalgic.” He poured them each a glass. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
They each took a sip and winced. “Oh, God.”
He gasped. “I don’t remember it burning like that.”
She gagged. “Maybe it’s an acquired taste.” When she sipped again, her eye twitched.
“You looked so nervous when I showed up.”
She blushed, now feeling silly for ever being nervous about Logan. “I was.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. This is... weird. We’re friends.”
“So? Sometimes friends date.”
She still wasn’t comfortable calling this a date. “Some friends aren’t as close as we are.”
“True. I was surprised you changed your mind. What made you call?”
She’d called to goad Greyson, but she didn’t want to bring him into this. “I don’t know. I’m still not sure this is a good idea.”
“Is that because you still see me as the kid brother? Because I haven’t been a kid in a long time, Wren.”
She looked at his defined jaw and five o’clock shadow. Meeting his dark eyes, she agreed, “No, you haven’t.”
He refilled their wine. After the first glass, it went down a little easier. He studied her for a long moment, and nervousness crept in again.
Sipping the unpalatable wine, he asked, “What’s something you used to believe about love that you don’t anymore?”