Chapter 1 #2
“Thank you for all your help with this contract,” Mari said, trying to dab casually at a tear when her phone buzzed with an incoming video call.
She glanced at the screen. “It’s my parents and sister.
They’re in Hawaii for Christmas.” A trip Mari couldn’t go on, not with the impending purchase. “Do you mind if I take it?”
Helen shook her head. “Of course not. Do you want me to give you some privacy?”
“No, I’m sure they’d love to say hello.” Mari accepted the call, then waved at her screen.
“Hi. Helen’s here with me,” she said, balancing her phone against a flower vase so they were both on camera.
Her mom and dad sat on a lanai with dark-green tropical foliage behind them.
Everyone said hello as Mari scooped up her contract.
“Guess who’s the new owner of Wildwood Bakery? ” She held up her signed paperwork.
Cheers went up on the other end of the line, and her sister Kat stepped into view. “Congratulations, Mari. Does this mean the sourdough cinnamon rolls are now free for family?”
“Only if you volunteer to roll dough in my kitchen,” Mari countered with a good-natured smirk.
Her dad chimed in. “A hot cup of coffee and one of those cinnamon rolls is perfection.” He also liked mass-produced, prepackaged doughnuts and pastries—his palate was not so discerning—but she’d take the compliment.
“What are you doing to celebrate tonight, sweetheart?” her mother asked.
Before Mari could answer, the table and chairs shook, and the bright, multi-colored holiday lights rhythmically tapped against the bakery’s frosted windows. “Another minor earthquake,” she announced.
Her mother blew out a breath. “I’m glad to have a break from those.
We haven’t felt any in Hawaii.” The Alaska Earthquake Center had warned that the current uptick in seismicity might be foreshocks to an impending larger earthquake.
But Mari wasn’t worried. The area had seen sizable quakes before, and she had emergency supplies ready for a handful of potential natural disasters.
Mari circled back to answering her mother’s question. “After this I plan to go home, put on my fleece pajamas, make a giant bowl of popcorn, and finally watch The Gingerbread Soldier’s Christmas Crush.” Truly, there was nothing she wanted more than relaxing with a feel-good holiday flick.
“Where do they come up with these titles and premises?” Kat asked, clearly not expecting an answer.
Their mother swatted at her playfully. “Don’t pick on your sister’s tastes. It’s a very sweet movie. I’ve watched it twice.” She turned back to the camera. “And when’s the grand reopening?”
Mari planned minor updates to the bakery menu and the building, small touches that would make the shop her own. “No set date yet, but by February first. Several employees are college students, and they won’t return until late January, when classes start.”
Plus, she had the opportunity to hire new staff and wanted to seek yeti-friendly folks.
She’d love for all her friends to be welcome in the kitchen.
While many people in Wildwood knew about yeti, like her family, most didn’t.
Those in on the secret held it close. No one wanted the government showing up to poke and prod their furry neighbors and loved ones.
“We should run,” Mari’s dad said, looking at his watch.
“We’ve booked a lū?au tonight.” A pang of longing hit Mari.
For a moment she wished she could trade her winter layers for a pair of shorts and join her family.
What better day than December twenty-second—winter solstice, the day with the fewest daylight hours in the northern hemisphere—to be in tropical Hawaii?
But she had a hot date with the fictitious gingerbread soldier to look forward to.
“Enjoy,” Mari said as she waved goodbye.
As soon as she disconnected, her smile fell, and she turned to Helen for part two of her legal business and the secret she’d carried for ten long years.
As if reading Mari’s mind, Helen pulled an envelope from her satchel. “On a more somber note, I drew up your divorce paperwork.”
Mari immediately sobered, her hand going to the chain around her neck.
Her and Nima’s wedding rings lay hidden under her sweater, nestled next to her infinity tattoo, the one that matched the same ink on his chest. She’d worn the rings in secret for a decade because .
. . Because even though Nima had regretted marrying her, she’d never stopped loving him.
But it was time to let go. She struggled to mask the conflicting sadness and determination playing tug-o-war in her chest. She bit her lip. “And you didn’t tell anyone?”
Helen placed a reassuring hand on Mari’s forearm. “Not a soul. This is your business, and all our dealings are protected by the attorney client-privilege. Of course, as your friend, I can’t freaking believe you’re legally married to your childhood sweetheart, a yeti, and no one knows.”
“Well, Nima knows, naturally. He also said, ‘I do’ while we were at Burning Man.” Mari heaved a sad and weary sigh. “Then he left and returned to Alaska without me, and I stayed in the Lower Forty-Eight, working in Portland for several years.”
“And you haven’t seen or spoken to Nima since your wedding night . . . over ten years ago?” Helen asked. “He hasn’t reached out to you since he’s been in Wildwood?”
A lead weight settled in Mari’s stomach as she shook her head.
Some part of her wished he would, because she’d tried and couldn’t.
Her own sense of self-preservation didn’t allow her to risk his rejection again.
“It’s been so long. I didn’t expect to hear from him.
” She gestured to the envelope. “Purchasing this bakery is a new chapter in my life. I need to close the book on the old one.”
Helen flashed her a sympathetic grimace. “Girl, my fiancé left me at the altar. I completely understand.” She nodded at the envelope. “I’ve flagged where you and Nima both need to sign. Our office can take care of delivering the papers to Nima.”
Mari had no intention of hunting down her ex. “Great, I’ll read this over and return signed copies tomorrow.”
“Sounds good, but no rush,” Helen said. “Dale is flying me back to Toklat Lodge tonight. I’ll be back online after Christmas.” She zipped her bag and stood. “I had lunch with Tseten today, so of course, I’m caught up on all the news.”
Tseten, the most gregarious yeti around, was a friend to all who knew about yeti. If someone wanted the latest gossip, they called Tseten.
“Okay . . .” Mari responded with some trepidation. This was usually how her friends discussed anything to do with Nima, and her chest tightened a fraction, as if bracing for impact.
“We went to the Blackwoods’ house to visit with Nima and see his tile work. The mosaic is stunning, Mari.”
All Mari could do was nod. Helen wasn’t the first person to tell her this.
Did Mari want to see what her ex was capable of?
A part of her did, sure. But that part wasn’t so large that she’d speak to Nima and show interest in his work after his abandonment and ten years of radio silence between them.
Helen slid her arms into her parka. “Nima is rushing to finish up today because the Blackwoods’ house-sitter is apparently throwing a party at their house tonight.
” She pursed her lips as if considering.
“I won’t mince words. If you want to see Nima’s work with no one else knowing, go to the party and check out the upstairs bathroom. ”
As Mari blinked in response at Helen’s unexpected suggestion, her friend lifted her hood, her cheerful face now framed with her parka’s Arctic fox ruff.
“We’ll catch up after the holiday and complete your divorce before New Year’s.
Have a wonderful Christmas,” she called as she stepped out into the cold, dark night.
“Y-you too, and thanks,” Mari said, finally finding her voice.
She locked the door behind Helen and then leaned back against the frosty glass as soft music floated in from the kitchen.
Mari clutched the rings beneath her sweater and released a deep, gusty breath.
She could see Nima’s work without him—or any of her friends—knowing?
It seemed too easy. But how could she resist?