Chapter 10
10
Holly
December 22
Hudson Valley, New York
Holly uses the code Aiden gave her—“SNOWY”—to open up the shed, finding several pairs of skates, including one in her size. She loads them into her car and drives into town, following Aiden’s directions to the winter sports shop. She’s early and he’s not there yet, so she gives the skates to the tall, curly-haired older man behind the counter, who tells her with a smile that his name is Martin McLaren, he’s been sharpening skates his entire life, and they’ll be ready “in a jiffy”—which in Krimbo speak, he says, is about twenty minutes.
She decides to go to Seventh Heaven to get a coffee while she waits. Bells tinkle merrily above her head as she enters the café. She’s greeted by the aroma of fresh bread, and something sweet and spicy baking.
Just as she approaches the counter, Aiden’s sister-in-law, Sidra, today in a crimson apron, her dark hair swept up in a tousled topknot, pushes open the green swinging doors leading from an industrial kitchen. She’s carrying a tray of cocoa-brown cookies with crinkled edges and a glossy chocolate coating.
“Holly,” she says with a smile, blowing tendrils of hair out of her face as she puts the tray down. “So glad to see you back. What can I get you?”
“Just a coffee today, thanks.”
“Are you sure? I’ve got fresh Lebkuchen: a ginger-cookie base, heavy on the spices, with a thick buttercream filling and a cinnamon-chocolate glaze.”
“That sounds incredible,” says Holly. “Okay, I’ll take one, please.”
Sidra’s smile widens as she uses the rose gold tongs to choose two fresh cookies for Holly. Then she pauses, tongs aloft, and adds another cookie. “You seem very enthusiastic about our cookie-of-the-day program. So I’m throwing in one extra on the house.”
“Who’s getting cookies on the house?”
A second woman bustles through the swinging kitchen doors, a forest green and red plaid kerchief covering her brown hair. Her eyes are vibrant blue, just like Aiden’s. She’s carrying a tray of sandwich buns.
“You must be Alexa, Aiden’s sister. You look so much alike.”
“I guess. And you are…?”
“This is Aiden’s high school friend,” Sidra says. “The one I was telling you about, staying out at the cabin on the North Service Road?”
“Holly Beech, nice to meet you,” Holly says with a smile—but Alexa doesn’t smile back.
“The one who loved the peppermint snowdrifts,” Sidra prompts, hands on hips, her smile now full of good-natured teasing. “Which I told you were perfect.” She turns back to Holly. “Alex is a cookie perfectionist, and she was worried Friday’s snowdrift batch wasn’t up to her usual standards. She forgot to add the green and red jimmies to the icing, you see. A travesty, according to her.”
“The jimmies are very important for color and texture,” Alexa explains, like she’s talking about a lifesaving brain-surgery technique and not holiday cookies. “It’s a key step in the peppermint snowdrift baking process, and I forgot.”
“It was the best cookie I’ve ever had, I swear,” Holly says. “Jimmies or no jimmies.”
“Thank you,” Alexa says curtly, picking up a bread knife and beginning the work of splitting the buns on the tray she has just put down. “So, you know Aiden,” she says as she cuts. Holly nods. “You went to that snobby private school he got the scholarship to?” She looks up as Holly stops nodding. “Where no one would give him the time of day or invite him to any parties and so he kicked every single one of their asses academically and proved he really did belong there?”
“Oh, well…”
Sidra puts her hand on Alexa’s shoulder and gives it a gentle rub. “Holly, my wife has zero filter. It’s normally a cute quirk—but honey, we are dealing with a new customer, not someone who already knows and adores you.” She says this last bit out of the side of her mouth. Alexa just rolls her eyes, but she does smile at Sidra. Her expression turns somewhat frosty again when she turns back to Holly, though.
“Well, sure, she’s a customer, but she also said she’s an old friend of Aiden’s, right? And you were just giving her cookies on the house, which is a practice reserved for close friends only—or we’d go out of business. So, she’s sort of a customer hybrid.” Alexa sets down the knife and tilts her head, thinking. “Wait.” She snaps her fingers. “Holly Beech . I do think he mentioned that name back in the day. Weren’t you the one whose grades and scores he was always chasing? He called you his pacesetter. But you barely knew he existed?”
“Alexa!” Sidra’s tone is sterner now. “Please accept my apology,” she says to Holly. “The local retirement home’s annual holiday luncheon is today, and then the Snowflake Dance, and we’re working double time to make sure we have enough cookies—”
“Which is why I don’t understand why we made it the special and why you’re giving them away,” Alexa mutters as she sets back to work.
Sidra just slides another Lebkuchen into the bag and presses it into Holly’s hands. “We do hope you come back again soon.”
“No, really, I’ll pay,” Holly says, but neither Sidra nor Alexa makes a move toward the cash register, so she takes out a ten and shoves it in the tip jar.
“Phew,” she mutters as she exits. Alexa and Aiden might look similar, but they couldn’t be more different.
She heads back to the sports shop and is trying on the newly tuned skates when Aiden comes in.
“Nice socks,” he says by way of greeting, his blue eyes sparkling.
She laughs. “I honestly thought I was going to spend two weeks without seeing another human being, let alone showing off my fuzzy novelty Bumble the Yeti socks,” Holly says.
“Let me guess, a gift from your friend Ivy?”
“Correct!”
“I feel like I know her already,” he says as she takes the skates to the counter to pay.
Outside, Holly offers to drive to the river, and they walk toward her car. Inside it, she turns on the heaters and invites him to find a local radio station. He spins the old-fashioned radio dial and settles on a station playing Christmas music. As the car fills with the sound of Dolly Parton’s voice singing “With Bells On,” Holly pulls the paper bag of cookies out of the canvas bag she brought to town. “Hey, want a cookie? Pre-skating sustenance? I was in the café earlier, and Sidra gave me a few extra.”
Aiden takes the paper bag and looks inside. “Uh-oh. Sometimes Sidra has to launch a diplomatic mission with free cookies—and that’s a lot of Lebkuchen. Was Alexa in a mood?”
“It sounds like there are a lot of town events going on today. She was…a bit stressed?”
“You’re being kind. My sister is…” He pauses and considers his words, and Holly finds herself smiling as she pulls out of her parking spot, at his habit of mulling over everything he says so carefully. “When she and Sidra lived in San Francisco, Alexa worked for a multinational bank and finally admitted she’d become a workaholic about two years after we’d all figured that out already. She suffered severe burnout. This move to Krimbo was good for her mental and physical health—but she still acts like multimillion-dollar accounts are hanging in the balance on busy days at the café.”
Holly laughs. “Okay, that’s definitely the vibe I got. She was very serious about leaving the jimmies out of the peppermint snowdrifts yesterday.”
Aiden laughs. “Sounds accurate. You get used to Alexa, and then you love her. But it’s a process.”
“Maybe I need to give these free cookies back and take some of the pressure off her.”
“If you’ve got free Lebkuchen in that bag, hold on for dear life—except for the one you’re going to give me.” He takes a bite and talks with his mouth full. “Because no one says no to Sid and Alex’s Lebkuchen.”
Aiden gives directions, and soon Holly drives down a short dead-end road leading to an opening in the trees where the river is visible. They step out of the car into complete wintry stillness. The evergreens are heavy with snow; the birches are pale, stately and shining with ice. The frozen water of the river curves out of Holly’s view like an undone ribbon on a present. “Gorgeous,” she breathes. “I love the way everything feels so silent, so peaceful, after a good snowfall. Like the world is extra insulated. Safe.”
“When I’m here in winter, sometimes I wonder if there’s anywhere in the world that could be more peaceful,” he agrees.
They sling their skates over their shoulders by their laces, and Holly follows Aiden to a fallen tree log a few feet from the riverbank. He clears it of snow so they can sit down and put on their skates, and as the Bumble the Yeti socks make another appearance, Aiden catches her eye and smiles.
Skates on and tied, Holly tentatively steps down onto the ice and glides for a moment. The pleasant sound her blades make on the ice reminds her of childhood, when her nana would take her skating at Rockefeller Center during every Christmas holiday. Aiden skates ahead a bit, adding the sound of his skates to hers. As he does a figure eight, Holly laughingly calls out, “Show-off!” But she increases her pace, too, and soon they’re racing down the ice together. As she chases after him, overtakes him, and then he chases after her, Holly is reminded of how he used to make her feel in high school. The way she always wanted to keep up with him. But maybe it wasn’t a bad thing, she suddenly thinks. Maybe Aiden always brought out the best in her.
They slow at a bend in the river and begin to skate along beside each other in companionable silence. Holly takes in the towering pines, the white-clad hills and mountains visible in the distance through breaks in the trees, the riverbanks covered in snow that glitters in the sunshine. They glide under a quaint stone bridge, then around another bend. “It’s perfect here,” Holly finds herself saying.
“Isn’t it?” Aiden says. “This is one of my favorite things to do, and I rarely make the time—so thanks for saying yes to going skating with me.”
“I’m so glad you asked.”
Around another bend, the river narrows, and leaf-bare maple trees crowd in close, their limbs frosted with snow and ice that shines blue-white in the sun filtering through the forest canopy. There are more evergreens, too, and every one of them is perfectly shaped, like the vintage ceramic ones in the window display of the antique store in Krimbo. Up ahead, bright color catches Holly’s eye: one of the evergreens has been decorated with red and gold balls, hung with tree lights. She gasps. “Who did that?”
“People in Krimbo really love Christmas,” Aiden says. “You never know when you’re going to happen upon a fully decorated tree—even in the middle of nowhere.”
“I love that,” Holly says happily, marveling at how easy it is to love Christmas in a magical place like this.
At a section of the river covered in blown snow, they’re forced to slow down, then turn back. Holly hits a small crack in the ice, wobbles, and nearly falls, but Aiden grabs her mittened hand with his gloved one. He holds her steady as they skate back the way they came. He doesn’t let go, and neither does she.
“Aiden?” she finally says as the log where they first put on their skates comes into view. He releases her hand, and she wishes he hadn’t.
“Yes, Holly?”
“I’m having such a good time out here.” They slow to a stop at the edge of the river and turn to face each other. His eyes are an even brighter blue than usual, his cheeks vibrant from the cold.
“Me, too,” he says. “I’m so glad you turned out to be Ivy Casey.”
She wants to say something more, wants to tell him that every moment with him so far has been one she doesn’t want to end. But she’s too nervous, too uncertain of herself. They take off their skates and get back in her car, but she still has the same sensation, one she doesn’t know what to do with.
As she starts the engine, his phone sounds a text message notification, then another. He pulls it out of his pocket to check. He looks up at her. “It’s Sid. She says she’s really embarassed about how Alex acted earlier. She wants me to apologize to you—and tell you Alexa is great. It’s just—”
“A process,” Holly says, waving a hand. “It’s fine.”
But Aiden’s expression is now clouded with concern. Holly turns up the car’s heat and waits for him to say what’s clearly on his mind. “Don’t get me wrong, Alex is…she’s a lot at the best of times. But she seems to be veering toward a burnout again, when this move to Krimbo was supposed to take away stress. And Sidra is her person, you know? But lately Alex seems all about pushing her away.” He bites his lip and looks down at his phone before putting it away again—while Holly feels touched by how much he clearly cares for his sibling and sister-in-law. “My parents make it look so easy. My grandparents, too. But marriage, long-term releationships, they aren’t all that easy.” He shakes his head. “Sorry. You’re not my therapist. I’ll save this for my next session.”
“Aiden, you can talk to me. And I agree with you. Relationships are complex. Marriage or a long-term commitment…that’s a a big step.” The word “marriage” feels like it rasps against her throat on the way out like stone against stone. She fiddles with the car’s heat again, even though it’s the right temperature, and thinks about what it might be like to tell Aiden everything. About Matt, and how she thought she was going to get married and live happily ever after, but was so very wrong. About how even just a few days away from Matt has made her realize how firmly she put on blinders in her quest to reach her life goals. Tears suddenly threaten, and she finds herself blinking them back with force. She’s having a really nice day, and she wants to keep it that way. So she bites back the emotion she’s feeling, looks up at him, and smiles. “But Sidra seems so great. I’m sure they’ll work it out.”
He’s looking at her, thoughtful again. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks, Holly.” But he holds her gaze, clears his throat. “So, uh, you know how part of the reason Sidra and Alexa are so busy today is because of the Snowflake Dance, right?”
“Yes, they mentioned that.”
“It’s at the high school and is pretty much what it sounds like, a holiday-themed dance, but for the whole town, not just teens.” He tilts his head. “Do you want to come?”
“Aiden, you don’t have to take me all over the place and invite me to everything just because I’m on my own during the holiday season. I’m fine, really. You don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you. That’s not why I asked you.”
She couldn’t look away from him if she tried. The lure of his gaze feels magnetic, and being near him makes her body buzz with the kind of excitement she hasn’t felt in ages—maybe ever. Is this what a rebound feels like? Should she be doing this?
She wants to, she realizes. It feels good. So she says with a smile, “How fancy is this dance? I only brought yoga pants and cozy sweaters.”
“You’d look great in anything,” Aiden says, and his cheeks flush as he finally looks away. “People do tend to dress up, though. But truly, yoga pants and a sweater will be fine.”
“It’s just, I may never get invited to a school dance again—so I want to do it right. Any clothing shops in town?”
“There’s Viola’s Dress Barn, which is my grandma’s favorite shop, if that tells you anything.” He grins. “She’s stylish, but still…she’s also in her eighties.”
“Okay, so no to Viola’s.”
“And there’s a thrift shop, Bebe’s Bargains. It’s the last store before Main Street ends.”
“I love thrifting,” Holly says. “It’ll be fun to see what I can find.”
His answering smile causes a flutter in the pit of her stomach, and she thinks of how it felt when he held her hand as they skated down the river. Rebound or not, bad timing or not, she likes him. He makes her forget about who she is now, all she’s been through, and remember who she used to be—and right now, that’s the best feeling in the world.