Chapter 39
JOY
The choir was missing three music stands, the donkey for the live nativity had apparently developed stage fright, and Mrs. Hamlin was in full panic mode because her gingerbread house booth looked too rustic. Never mind she was the one that set up the damn booth.
This was so much more stressful than I had anticipated.
Did I really want to do this? Christmas was going to kill me.
Could I do this for every holiday? I honestly wasn’t sure I had the fortitude to handle nerves like these.
I knew Christmas had its own unique level of stress.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad the rest of the holidays.
Fourth of July. Maybe a Memorial Day festival. It couldn’t all be this tense, right?
I stood in the middle of the Christmas market grounds with my clipboard clutched in one hand and my phone in the other, trying to juggle seventeen different conversations while mentally calculating whether I had enough time to solve everyone’s problems before the market opened at six.
I did not.
“Joy, the sound system for the choir is crackling,” Tom called from the makeshift stage we had erected near the center of the square.
“Joy, where do you want the backup generator?” shouted Mike, who was helping with the electrical setup in his off-duty time.
“Joy, the cotton candy machine isn’t spinning properly,” complained another vendor from her confectionery booth.
I closed my eyes for exactly three seconds—all the time I could spare for a mini breakdown—then opened them and got back to work.
“Tom, there’s a backup sound system in the storage room at city hall,” I called back. “I had someone put the generator behind the information booth where it won’t be in anyone’s way.
There’s a wrench in the tool kit under the registration table.”
This was exactly why I’d been avoiding Cooper earlier when I had seen him across the market grounds.
Not because I didn’t want to see him—God, I wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and let him hold me while I had a proper nervous breakdown—but because we needed to have a long talk, and there was absolutely no time for that right now.
I couldn’t afford the distraction. Not when I was this close to the finish line.
Plus, I couldn’t get Lynn’s words out of my head. That woman had messed me up. I couldn’t stop thinking about what she said.
It was making me question everything I had been so comfortable believing.
It made me second-guess everything I thought I knew about myself, including this.
What if I totally screwed up and bombed the whole damn thing?
These vendors counted on the earnings from the market to buy their Christmas gifts.
They needed it to support their families.
If I messed things up, it would cost them so much more than just a bad day. I had to get this right.
The Christmas market was opening tonight and would run every evening through December twenty-third.
If everything went smoothly, if the crowds came and the vendors were happy and the whole event was the success I had envisioned, then maybe I would have a real shot at the tourism coordinator position with the city.
That job was my ticket to staying in Calton Hill permanently. It was the practical foundation that would let me build a life here, the career that would make staying a smart decision instead of just a romantic one.
I needed to keep my eye on the prize, no matter how much my heart was aching.
Lynn’s words from yesterday kept echoing in my mind. You’re just a rebound. I’m the real deal.
Was she right? Was I fooling myself about what Cooper felt for me? Would he always love her more than he could ever love me? He had asked her to marry him, after all.
That was not nothing.
He loved her. He loved her enough to ask her to spend the rest of his life with him. We had sex a few times. I spent the night and left in the morning. I didn’t even think we could call what we were doing dating.
Was I just the person he was using to get back in the saddle?
The questions made my stomach churn, but I forced them down. All of those problems would have to wait until later. Right now, I had a Christmas market to launch.
“Joy!” Another vendor waved me over frantically. “My cash box is missing!”
“Did you check under your table?” I asked, hurrying toward her. “Sometimes the wind blows things around.”
As I helped her search for her wayward cash box—which we found wedged behind a display of handmade scarves—I noticed a case of bottled water sitting directly in the main footpath between two vendor booths.
Someone had obviously set it down and forgotten about it, and it was positioned perfectly to send an unsuspecting festival-goer sprawling.
Cooper would be so proud, I thought automatically as I went to move the case to a safer location. I had internalized his safety consciousness so completely that I was seeing potential hazards everywhere.
I ducked into the nearest booth—a holiday craft station run by the local art club—to stow the water case under their table where it wouldn’t be in anyone’s way.
“Just borrowing some space for this water,” I said to the volunteer who was arranging displays of handmade ornaments.
“No problem, dear,” she replied with a smile. “We can use it later anyway.”
I crouched behind their table to push the case all the way back, making sure it wouldn’t be a tripping hazard even in its new location. I heard the voices from the booth next door, two women who clearly thought they were speaking quietly enough to avoid being overheard.
“I heard Joy Murphy and Cooper Frost are an item now,” one of them was saying.
I recognized the voice as belonging to Carol Winters, who worked at the post office and had never met a piece of gossip she didn’t love.
I would not be the least bit surprised to discover she steamed open envelopes and read the contents.
She was a sneaky one.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” replied the second voice, Diane Foster from the bank. “Lynn Ziegler’s back in town, you know. Apparently she’s trying to reclaim him.”
My blood turned to ice water in my veins.
“Really? I thought she ran off to Salt Lake City to be a whore.”
Diane laughed. “She did, but she’s back now. Showed up yesterday, looking like a million dollars. I saw her coming out of the fire station myself.”
“Well, that’s interesting. Do you think Cooper will take her back?”
“Hard to say. Men are funny about their first loves, aren’t they? And those two had quite the romance back in the day.”
I crouched frozen behind the craft table, feeling like I was going to be sick.
The whole town was talking about this. My private feelings, my relationship with Cooper, the humiliating possibility that I was just a placeholder for his ex-fiancée—it was all public knowledge now.
It was being discussed casually by people who probably had no idea how much their speculation was hurting everyone involved.
People who didn’t even know me. And no one except Cooper and I knew what was really going on between us, confusing as it was. We weren’t advertising our situationship. We were just doing our thing. But of course, everyone had to get their two cents in.
“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,” Carol continued with obvious relish. “Small town like this, secrets don’t stay secret for long.”
“Did you hear about the two of them staying the night together?” Diane attempted to whisper. That only made it sound more scandalous than it was.
I couldn’t help but smirk. If they only knew what we had done while lying on that old Santa costume. That would have their tongues wagging so fast they might just fall out.
I bit my lip to keep from making a sound, my heart hammering against my ribs as their conversation continued.
“Oh, speaking of secrets,” Carol’s voice dropped to what she probably thought was a whisper but still carried clearly to where I was crouched. “I saw them kissing the other day. Right there in the town square, bold as you please.”
“No!” Diane’s voice pitched higher with excitement. “When was this?”
“Tuesday afternoon. I was coming out of the hardware store and there they were by that big Christmas tree Cooper made out of ice. Quite the passionate display, if you ask me. Reminded me of my younger days.”
Heat flooded my cheeks as I remembered that kiss.
It had been after Cooper finished adjusting the lights on his ice sculpture, and I’d been so proud of what he’d accomplished that I’d thrown my arms around him without thinking.
The kiss had been spontaneous, joyful—a moment of pure happiness that I’d treasured.
Now it felt tainted, reduced to gossip fodder for women who had nothing better to do than dissect other people’s private moments.
“Well, that certainly sounds serious,” Diane mused. “Though I have to wonder if Joy knows what she’s getting herself into. That boy’s been through the wringer, getting jilted and all. Some hearts never fully heal from that kind of betrayal.”
“And Lynn’s not the type to give up easily,” Carol added. “Mark my words, there’s going to be drama before this whole thing sorts itself out.”
“Honestly, my money is on Lynn.”
I clenched my fists to keep myself from jumping up and going after them. I wanted to defend myself but then I would have to explain why I was eavesdropping in the first place.
“True enough. Though I have to say, Joy’s done a wonderful job with this festival. Even if she doesn’t get Cooper, I kind of hope they put her in charge of all the community events.”
The conversation made me want to scream. Even my professional accomplishments were being viewed through the lens of my romantic situation. And to think I had helped Carol put up the banner for her booth.
I waited until their conversation moved on to other topics before carefully extracting myself from behind the table and escaping the booth. My hands were shaking. I felt like everyone in the market could see my humiliation written across my face.
The fact that anyone was even wondering if Lynn was back in the picture was absolutely infuriating. Did they see something I didn’t? Was Cooper still hung up on her?
The questions were like acid in my guts, but I forced myself to breathe deeply and focus on the task at hand.
I couldn’t control whatever was going on between Cooper and Lynn.
I couldn’t control the town gossip or the speculation or the way people were analyzing my personal life like it was a show on TV.
All I could control was the Christmas market opening, so I put my head down and kept working.
If Cooper went back to Lynn, that was out of my control too. I had no claim to the man. I wasn’t going to compete for his affections. Either he wants me or he doesn’t.
He wasn’t my man. And I wanted him to be happy. I didn’t think Lynn could do that for him, but if she did, fine.
Good riddance.
“Joy, the extension cord for the hot chocolate stand isn’t long enough,” someone called from the refreshment area.
“There’s another one in the supply box by the information booth,” I replied, grateful for something concrete to focus on.
I threw myself back into the final preparations with renewed determination.
This festival was going to be perfect. Every detail would be flawless, every vendor would be happy, and every visitor would have a magical experience.
I would prove that I belonged here, that I could build something meaningful and lasting in Calton Hill.
And if Cooper chose his polished ex-fiancée over me, at least I would have my professional success to fall back on.
The thought was cold comfort, but it was all I had right then.
By five-thirty, the market was as ready as it was ever going to be.
The vendor booths were arranged in perfect rows, each one decorated with twinkling lights and festive displays.
The ice tree Cooper had created stood majestically in its corner, a breathtaking showpiece that cast rainbow patterns across the snow in the fading light of the sinking sun.
The choir was doing sound checks on the stage.
Their voices blended in a harmonious warm-up exercise.
The live nativity animals had arrived. The donkey’s stage fright apparently conquered. They were being settled into their designated area by volunteers in costumes.
It looked exactly like the vision I’d had when I’d first started planning this event. Magical, welcoming, the kind of place where families would make memories and couples would hold hands and children would believe in the wonder of Christmas.
I should have felt triumphant. Instead, I felt hollow, like I was looking at my accomplishment through foggy glass.