Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
A knock came at the door of Artisan Chocolates just as Imogen was finishing closing down the register for the evening. She looked up to see Vanessa on the other side of it, waving one mittened hand, and Imogen quickly went to unlock the door and let her in.
She smiled as her friend stepped into the shop, closing and re-locking the door behind her.
As usual, Vanessa looked very well put together, although her wardrobe had adjusted to be a bit more rustic since she’d fully moved back to Fir Tree Grove.
Tonight, Imogen noticed, Vanessa was wearing a pair of black jeans, and a dove-gray cashmere sweater peeked out of the opening at the top of her puffy black jacket with a brown faux fur ruff.
Vanessa’s auburn hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and a pair of green lacquer earrings with garnet centers shaped like holly leaves were her choice of jewelry for the outfit.
“You look great,” Imogen said, feeling a little underdressed, still in her work clothes.
“Give me just a minute to finish up, and we’ll head out.
I’m sorry I’m running late, I meant to go home and shower and change first, but I’ve been a little behind on work.
I thought I’d be done right after six when we closed. ”
“It’s totally fine,” Vanessa promised, walking over to the small table in the rounded corner of the shop, flanked by three windows that looked out to the brightly lit, snow-covered street. “I’ll just wait while you finish up. There’s no rush.”
Imogen nodded, grateful that Vanessa was patient.
She quickly finished up her deposit for the evening, tucking it into the safe, before checking to make sure that all of the chocolates had been stored away, the cabinets wiped down, and the appliances at the hot chocolate station were shut down and cleaned.
Finally, she let out a sigh, glancing over at Vanessa, who had a book in one hand, reading as she was waiting.
“Just a few more minutes,” she promised Vanessa, glancing quickly at her phone.
Katie was spending the evening with a friend, so that Imogen and Vanessa could have their planned ‘grown-up time’, or rather, the belated lunch-turned-dinner that they’d had to reschedule.
Fortunately, Imogen saw a text from the friend’s mother letting her know that both girls had gotten there without issue, and Imogen relaxed a little. That was one thing handled, at least.
She had one task left to do before they left.
Lincoln Blackwell, the owner of the local ice-skating rink, regularly ordered hot chocolate powder from her for the hot cocoa stand at the rink.
She always dropped off the order, and she was supposed to do it tonight—yet another thing that she’d meant to get done before meeting Vanessa at the tavern.
It seemed as if, this time of year, everything piled up faster than she could get to it.
Heading to the storeroom, she got the bags of powder, stacking them into two large canvas totes that she could use to carry them. She double-checked against the invoice that she had all that Lincoln had paid for, before fishing her phone out from her back pocket to send him a text.
IMOGEN: Hey, Lincoln. I’m sorry the order for the hot cocoa powder is late. I meant to have it to you earlier this evening, and everything kind of caught up to me all at once. Do you want me to deliver it tomorrow instead?
She was privately hopeful that he might say yes; if so, she could simply leave the delivery for the morning, head out with Vanessa now, and then come in to the shop early to grab the delivery and take it over to Lincoln. Her phone chimed almost immediately, though, and she frowned.
LINCOLN: No, that’s totally fine. I’m happy to stay open until you get here.
Imogen let out a small sigh, but she texted him back to tell him that she was on her way, then.
As she picked up the totes, groaning a little at the weight, she couldn’t help but think how kind and accommodating Lincoln was.
She was sure he probably didn’t want to stay late any more than she did, but clearly he thought it would be easier for her to get the delivery over with that evening, and he was staying at the rink so that she could do just that. It really was incredibly sweet of him.
But then again, she thought with a burst of nostalgia, he always had been sweet, even when they were back in high school.
They’d been friends nearly from the moment they met as teenagers, and it hadn’t taken long for that to blossom into the kind of first love that was unique to being high school sweethearts.
Imogen sighed, feeling wistful for that uncomplicated, innocent kind of love that she’d experienced back then.
Everything was so much more complicated as an adult, and doubly so because of being a mother.
Katie came before everything else, and while she would never have changed a thing, she felt that bit of nostalgia at the memory of a simpler time.
That simple, innocent love had come to an end when she and Lincoln had gotten into different colleges, and decided to go their separate ways.
It had been a mutual breakup, and they’d both agreed it was better to just end things amicably rather than go through the strain of a long-distance relationship, especially when they’d both been so young.
But she hadn’t been happy about it back then, and she knew Lincoln hadn’t either.
They’d tried to be pragmatic and grown-up about it all, but neither of them had really wanted to end things.
Most people might resent having to see the person they used to date on a regular basis, she thought ruefully as she walked back out into the shop.
But Lincoln had always been kind to her, never once hinting at their past or any kind of resentment that she’d come back to Fir Tree Grove alone and with a baby—and with no intention of getting back together with him.
“Ready?” Vanessa asked, tucking her book back into her purse and raising an eyebrow at the heavy tote bags Imogen was carrying. “What on earth is all of that?”
“Hot chocolate powder,” Imogen said with a laugh. “I need to drop it off at the ice rink. It’s Lincoln’s weekly order for the hot chocolate stand.”
Vanessa looked at her curiously, standing up to walk over and peek into the totes. Her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, that’s a lot of hot cocoa,” she said with a laugh. “There’s so much of it. How much does this cost Lincoln? And every week?”
Imogen laughed. “It’s not cheap,” she admitted. “His order really contributes a lot to the shop’s sales for the month. I mean, we do fine on gift baskets and regular hot cocoa and chocolate sales, but it really helps, you know?”
“I believe it.” Vanessa shook her head. “Alright, let’s go, then. We’ll drop that off and then head over to the tavern?”
Imogen nodded, fishing her keys out of her pocket to lock up as they walked out. “Thanks for being patient,” she said, locking the door and gesturing for Vanessa to follow her to where her little Subaru was parked. “I know we were supposed to leave like thirty minutes ago.”
“It’s totally fine,” Vanessa assured her, helping slide one of the totes off of Imogen’s shoulder so that they could pack them into the back of the station wagon.
It was starting to lightly snow, and both women hurriedly got into the car, Vanessa rubbing her mittened hands together as they waited for the car to warm up.
“Jingle Bells” came on the radio, and Imogen hummed along, backing slowly out of the snowy parking lot.
“It’s neat that Lincoln decided to shop local and get your hot chocolate powder for the rink,” Vanessa said as they pulled out onto the road.
“Honestly, I’d have thought he’d go for a more economical option, even though I know yours is probably amazing.
Just for profit margins, you know?” She glanced sideways at Imogen, who shrugged.
“I guess he’s just really committed to supporting local businesses,” she said. “What other reason could there be?”
Imogen glanced over, and saw that Vanessa had a conspiratorial gleam in her eye.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Vanessa said, a smirk on her lips.
“Maybe it has something to do with your past together. That’s possible, right?
Maybe he still has a little of that old flame going, and wants to make sure he’s doing business with you specifically? ”
Imogen rolled her eyes. “Absolutely not,” she said firmly.
“We were kids back then. There hasn’t been anything between us in years, not like that.
He’s just being nice, trying to keep his business local.
And,” she added, glancing at the clock, “we need to hurry up. He’s staying open so I can get this dropped off tonight.
He should have already closed up the rink by now. ”
Vanessa’s grin widened. “Wow. It’s awfully nice of him to agree to stay later at work, just so you don’t have to get up earlier tomorrow to do your drop-off.
What a nice guy.” She laughed. “He could have even just told you to drop it at the door so he didn’t have to wait around.
I’m sure it’d be fine until the morning, right?
But he decided to stick around and make sure he saw you for a minute. ”
“Oh, stop.” Imogen shook her head. “There’s really nothing deeper to it.” She turned into the parking lot for the rink and found a spot close to the door, hopping out to grab the tote bags. To her surprise, Vanessa got out of the car and followed her.
“I can take one of those,” Vanessa said, and Imogen narrowed her eyes at her.
“The car’s warm. Are you sure you don’t want to just wait? I don’t really need help—”
“I haven’t really seen the rink this time of year,” Vanessa said with a grin. “It’s fine. I don’t mind helping.”
“Okay, here.” Imogen sighed, handing her one of the bags.
She suspected that Vanessa had ulterior motives in wanting to come in—like wanting to see how Lincoln behaved around Imogen.
But she didn’t have any intention of hanging around—they’d drop off the cocoa powder and head to the tavern, just like she’d planned.
When they stepped into the rink, Imogen was immediately struck by how festive it all was.
Lincoln had strung multicolored Christmas lights from the ceiling in long swaths across the building, and they twinkled brightly, sending rays of festive light over the gleaming ice in the rink.
The hot cocoa and concession stands had garlands decked in ornaments wrapped around them, and there was a large Christmas tree next to the bleachers where parents could sit, fully decorated with lights and various ornaments and glass balls.
The bleachers themselves had garlands and bows on the railing, and on the other side of the rink where a set of tables were arranged, garlands hung from the sides of each table.
Christmas music was still playing from the speakers as a man on a Zamboni smoothed out the ice on the rink, and as Imogen swung her tote off of her shoulder and set it on one of the tables, Lincoln came bustling out of the small office at the back of the rink.
“Here, let me grab that,” he said with a smile, taking it from her. “And—oh, thank you,” he added, taking the other bag from Vanessa. “Thanks for bringing this over so late. I’m sure you have other plans.”
“We were heading to dinner,” Imogen admitted. “But it’s no trouble, really. I’d rather bring it over tonight than have to get up in the morning. It was really sweet of you to wait on me. I’m sure you’re ready to get home too.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” Lincoln assured her. “Where are the two of you heading to dinner?”
“Maplewood,” Imogen said.
“I haven’t been there in ages. I heard they have a new winter special on the menu that’s incredible—something about duck leg and winter squash? One of the moms that brought their kid in for skating lessons mentioned it.”
“I’ll have to give it a try.” Imogen smiled. “I haven’t been out much lately, honestly. Business has been crazy. But that’s a good thing.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Lincoln returned her smile, leaning against the table. “Well, I suppose I should let you get to your dinner. I don’t want to keep you any longer than I already have.”
“I’m the one who kept you,” Imogen said apologetically. “But I’ll see you around. Next week for the delivery, if nothing else.”
Imogen glanced over at Vanessa, who was leaning against the wall, waiting patiently.
She didn’t want to keep them from their dinner any longer, but she also couldn’t help wishing she could linger.
Talking to Lincoln had a way of reminding her why, all those years ago, she had loved being his girlfriend.
Why she’d missed him so much, when they’d gone their separate ways.
He had a way of making her feel like she was the only person on earth during a conversation, and it was addictive, especially when she felt like she spent so much of her days catering to what everyone else wanted and needed.
They all said their farewells, and Imogen and Vanessa headed back out to the car.
“I think you were blushing while you were chatting with Lincoln,” Vanessa teased as they slid into the car, and Imogen felt her face turn even redder than before, heat crawling up her neck despite the chill of the evening.
“It was just cold in there by the ice rink,” she said defensively, and Vanessa chuckled.
“I don’t know. You two looked awfully cozy talking to each other. And he wasn’t paying attention to anything but you. I think it was something more than that.”
“We need to hurry up and get to the restaurant,” Imogen said quickly, changing the subject. “I’m starving.”
“I’m hungry too,” Vanessa agreed, letting it go, to Imogen’s relief. “Maybe I’ll try that special Lincoln mentioned. That sounded good.”
“It did,” Imogen agreed, but her mind was still lingering on Lincoln himself. He had seemed happy to wait around for her, and to get the chance to talk to her. He definitely hadn’t been in any hurry to leave.
He’s just trying to keep things cordial, Imogen told herself, as they drove toward the tavern. There was no reason to think it was anything other than that. He just wanted to support her business, and make sure that there were no hard feelings between them.
After all, he’d always been the most decent, most polite guy she’d ever known.