Chapter 4
It was a bit of a walk to the bakery. Nora stayed silent at first, but Everett apparently felt the need to make conversation.
“Have you lived in Toronto long?” he asked.
“Yeah, a long time,” she replied.
“Did you grow up here?”
“Burlington.” It wasn’t all that far away. Well, it could be if traffic was shit, which it usually was. But she had no reason to go to Burlington anymore, so it didn’t matter. “You?”
“The Bay Area,” he said, “then Victoria.”
“The winter here must have been quite a shock to you after that.”
She wondered what it would be like to live in a place like San Francisco, which didn’t have seasons in the same way as Toronto. Even though she hated winter, would she miss it?
Maybe she would.
It occurred to Nora that it had been a long time since she’d had a getting-to-know-you conversation.
It might have happened more often if she did things like date, but she didn’t.
Her small family and Aimee were the important people in her life, and she rarely spoke to anyone else.
Normally, she told herself that was fine and she didn’t miss socializing, but this was kind of nice.
“What do you do?” she asked. “For work, I mean.”
“IT support.”
That sounded like a nightmare. Mind you, an awful lot of jobs sounded nightmarish to her.
But the idea of dealing with people who did ass-backward things to their machines—or couldn’t perform basic troubleshooting—sounded horrific.
Though to be fair, she probably didn’t have an accurate idea of what his typical day was like.
They arrived at the small bakery, and Nora could see why Everett liked it. Anyone who liked the Christmas season would appreciate a place that was festooned with a variety of garlands and painted gingerbread men, each wearing a Santa hat.
And the ice cream? They’d gone all out with the Christmas flavors.
There was eggnog (gross), candy cane (slightly more palatable), roasted chestnut, and gingerbread house.
Not gingerbread, but gingerbread house: swirled in with the ice cream were broken pieces of assorted candy.
Could you put a whole gingerbread house into an ice cream maker? That’s what appeared to have happened.
Nora selected her plain hot chocolate—she avoided any of their special seasonal offerings—and Everett got a cup of gingerbread house ice cream. In silent agreement, they headed to a table at the very back. That way, she wouldn’t be chilled by cold air whenever someone opened the door.
Everett took off his jacket and scarf, but not his toque. He was wearing a wool sweater that looked particularly cozy. As he started eating his ice cream, she found herself thinking that there was something incongruous about that tiny spoon in his large hand.
“Good?” she asked.
“Very.” He crunched a mint.
She’d take his word for it.
“You wouldn’t order this for yourself?” he said.
“Well…”
“Ah, I know.” He held up a finger as he had another small bite of ice cream. “Not enough gumdrops.” His voice was solemn.
A giggle escaped her lips. An actual giggle.
Everett’s serious expression turned into a smile.
“Yes,” she said, “not enough black gumdrops.”
“You like the licorice ones? Gross.”
“Have you ever made a gingerbread house?” She was pretty sure of the answer, but she asked anyway.
“I have, but only from a kit.”
She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been gently teased by a man. Her brother-in-law was the only man she saw on a semi-regular basis, and he wasn’t the teasing sort. Back in university, she’d briefly dated a guy whose teasing was downright mean.
She couldn’t imagine Everett being mean, but she reminded herself that she still didn’t know him very well, and even people you thought you knew could surprise you. Besides, she’d proven herself to be a rather poor judge of character.
“Is something wrong?” Everett asked.
“Just thinking about all the stuff I have to do tonight,” she lied.
He nodded and returned his attention to his treat. A droplet of melted ice cream clung to his beard, and she itched to wipe it away.
In an attempt to rid herself of that urge, she dove into her hot chocolate. Some hot chocolate was more sugary than chocolatey, but this stuff didn’t have that problem. No, it was very, very good. Rich and luxurious.
“Does it meet your approval?” he asked.
“It does, and you know I have very fine tastes. Your palate just isn’t sophisticated enough for black gumdrops.”
Though privately, she agreed with him: licorice-flavored gumdrops were disgusting. But the purpose of her comment had been to make him smile, and it worked. Though why she cared about that, she wasn’t sure.
She had another sip of her drink. The hot chocolate warmed her from the inside. She had a good winter jacket, but she still got cold when she spent an hour or more outside in the winter.
Yes, this hit the spot.
“I know it’s not your favorite time of year,” Everett said, “but do you have any plans for Christmas?”
She shook her head. “Not on the twenty-fifth—or anytime around then. I’m celebrating on Saturday with my sister and her family.”
“What does that entail?”
“Going to her house in Mississauga, opening gifts with my niece and nephew, and eating ham.”
Their mother had always preferred doing a ham over a turkey. Easier, she said. It was a tradition they’d continued without her.
“They’re going away later in the month,” she explained, “so I can’t see them then. What about you?”
“I usually visit my family out west,” he said, “but I’m not going this year.”
“Yeah, that’s a long way, and it must be a pain to fly during the holidays.”
Flying wasn’t her idea of a good time in general, but in December, when there was a chance that a snowstorm could derail your plans?
That definitely didn’t sound fun. If she had to spend twenty-four hours in an airport at Christmas, she’d probably end up stabbing someone with an icicle decoration, or hitting them over the head with an overpriced sandwich.
She’d nearly done something similar at her retail job last December—she’d needed to work two holiday seasons to earn back the money she’d given to Samuel.
Although she tried not to worry too much about the security of her full-time job, she did her best to maintain a healthy savings account.
“But I’m sorry you can’t see your family,” she added.
Or maybe Everett wasn’t going to see his family because they had a strained relationship. She shouldn’t assume that he’d want to see them.
“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m going for Lunar New Year instead.”
In the silence that followed, Nora was very aware.
Aware that they were both single—or, at least, unmarried—people who were not seeing their families for the holidays.
It was a ridiculous thought, but she felt like she should offer to celebrate with him, just in case he didn’t have any plans for December 25.
She was also very aware that this was quite a small table. She shifted in her chair, her knee bumping against his. A little hot chocolate spilled over the rim of her cup, and she nearly wept. It seemed a crime to waste any of it. She wiped the table with a napkin.
Once she finished her drink, she stood up, and Everett followed her. They disposed of their garbage and headed back into the cold.
After saying goodbye to Everett and stepping into her apartment, Nora changed into some more comfortable clothes.
She made herself a cup of tea as she texted pictures of the snow sculptures to her sister.
There was a pleasant warmth in her chest, a warmth that didn’t come from drinking hot beverages on cold days but something different.
She wouldn’t examine that too closely.
But hanging out with Everett had been easy. More comfortable than it should have been. Not once had she gotten the sense that he wanted anything out of her. It didn’t seem like he was trying to con her or charm her or sleep with her.
That shouldn’t feel like a novelty, but it was, and it had been just what she needed after the possible scam attempt earlier. If she hadn’t run into him, she might have spent more time obsessing over it.
She didn’t mention Everett in her texts to her sister. Brianna would have taken it the wrong way—assumed it had been a date—so it was better not to say anything at all. Her sister didn’t reply right away, but that was okay. She was probably trying to wrangle two small children into bed.
Too lazy to move from the couch, Nora scrolled through social media as she drank her tea.
She came across two headlines that she assumed were satire but turned out to be real, someone recommending fresh air to cure depression and cancer, and a bunch of men absolutely losing it on a woman who said she wouldn’t marry anyone who refused to eat leftovers.
Then she saw some disturbingly incorrect information about vaccines.
Hm. Maybe she shouldn’t spend her free time online.
She also came across a recipe for gumdrop cake, which she wanted to send to Everett, except she didn’t know his number.
Ah well.
She heated up leftovers for dinner (she was definitely #teamleftovers), did a few chores, and watched a show. Nothing unusual, although she was eating a bit later than usual thanks to her earlier excursion.
When she climbed into bed, she couldn’t help wishing there was somebody next to her under the covers, and that somebody looked like…
No one in particular.
Nope, she certainly didn’t have anyone on her mind.
Her thoughts turned to the snow sculptures. Hopefully, the weather would remain cold enough so the snow didn’t melt, and hopefully, there would be a third one soon.