Chapter 3
THREE
Fifteen days. Fifteen more days and Christmas would be here. And Pete would be gone. Again.
Hailey glanced over at the tree lot as she secured her wreath to the front door of the café. The wind was strong today, and the ring of evergreen had been flapping against the glass all morning, making her jump each time and threatening to give her a headache if it continued much longer.
The snow was coming down hard, coating the branches of the trees that lined Armitage in a heavy white blanket and making it difficult to identify the faces of the people from this distance. Yesterday she hadn’t dared to look across the street. She’d deliberately avoided another run-in with Pete by taking the back alley door into and out of the café, and she’d done the same this morning, even if it was half a block out of her way, and even if that wind was unforgiving, whipping right through her wool coat .
Pete must be cold, she thought, letting her gaze linger as she finished securing the wreath. A sense of calm rolled through her shoulders as she continued to stare. See. This wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t like he would ever know she was watching him. And it wasn’t like she was even looking for him. Not really. No, she was just looking at the snow. Enjoying the view.
And wondering if she’d made the biggest mistake of her life eight years ago.
Had he ever thought of her? In all these years, he’d never written, emailed, or called. Not that she had either—even though she’d wanted to, badly, especially at first. But what was there to say then? Or now? They’d made their choices. And she hadn’t been his.
Still, when they’d first broken up, she’d foolishly thought that Pete would help his father with the holiday rush and come to his senses by January. Instead, he’d disappeared.
He hadn’t even sent a Christmas card.
He’d probably moved on. Found someone else. For all she knew he was engaged—or married! She pinched her lips tight. No sense in getting worked up about that, but she would be checking his hand for a ring the next time she saw him. If she saw him again.
It would be sad to think of him packing up that tree lot without saying goodbye.
But maybe there was nothing left to say. And maybe, he had moved on, even if she hadn’t. She ran the risk of another girl moving in on him the day she turned down his offer to move to Timber Valley.
And the other offer that accompanied it.
Her gaze drifted to her left hand, which remained bare after all these years. She’d stopped thinking of how his grandmother’s ring would have looked on her finger. Now, she wondered if another woman was wearing it.
Shivering in just her sweater and apron, she went inside and refreshed the coffee filter for its next brew, but her heart still stung like it did every time she thought of that day, which wasn’t very often. Moving to Chicago, opening this café, and surrounding herself with the big and exciting city life she’d craved had been a good distraction. Until now.
The swing door to the kitchen opened and Mandy appeared, brushing a strand of dark brown hair from her forehead. “I just made a batch of sugar cookies. People like sugar cookies around the holidays, don’t they?”
Hailey didn’t have the heart to tell Mandy that she shouldn’t have bothered any more than she could bring herself to let her assistant go. She’d already cut Mandy’s shifts, which fortunately worked out well with Mandy’s rigorous grad school responsibilities, but if things didn’t turn around soon, Hailey wouldn’t have the funds to pay her at all. As it was, she’d nearly cleared out her personal savings account.
“People do like sugar cookies around the holidays,” Hailey agreed. Though whether or not they would bother to buy any from Corner Beanery was another conversation entirely.
“Did I miss anything while I was out sick?” Mandy asked as she arranged the cookies in the display case .
Did you ever , Hailey thought. Instead, she shook her head. “Another day. Not a busy one, unfortunately.”
“The snow doesn’t help,” Mandy said, stopping to briefly look out the window.
Hailey could only nod. There was no arguing with that. If she had her way, she’d have stayed in her flannel pajamas all day—or maybe until Christmas Day, when Pete would be long gone.
The bell above the door chimed and Hailey jumped. Beside her, Mandy gave her a strange look. “You okay there?”
Hailey’s shoulders sank with relief when she saw the customer was a woman and not Pete. “It’s those darn bells. Remind me again why I put them up?”
“Because it’s Christmas,” Mandy replied dutifully. “And you didn’t want to be the only shop on the block without any decorations. And because people like lights and tinsel. And you need people to come to the café.”
“All good points,” Hailey said, agreeing with her more sensible self, the one who wasn’t thinking about an ex-boyfriend every waking moment.
She turned her attention to the customer who was dusting the snow from the shoulders of her coat. The woman’s eyes gleamed as she walked over to the counter, still shivering from the cold. She pointed at the basket of assorted muffins.
“I’ll take one of your chocolate muffins if you have any left,” she said, and Hailey managed to keep a sarcastic comeback to herself. Any left ? This would be her first sale of the day.
“You’re in luck,” she said, as she grabbed a plate from the stack and used tongs to push aside the blueberry muffins. “Here, I found you the best one!”
It might be the only one that was eaten today…by someone other than her, that was.
The woman’s hands were red with cold as she handed over the crisp bills. “It’s mean out there. Wind chill in the single digits, they say.”
Hailey frowned and glanced out the window, doing her best to avert her eyes from her main competitor, whose windows boasted crowds of people clutching oversized label-stamped mugs. Sure enough, the wind was stronger now, stirring up sweeping gusts of snow from the pavement. She watched in dismay as the wreath came loose again from the door and began rapping stubbornly against the glass.
“How about a hot chocolate to go with that?” she asked, turning her attention back to her sole customer. “On the house.”
The woman smiled as Hailey filled her a paper cup and snapped the lid. She took a taste, looking up at Hailey in surprise. “I’ve never had anything like that!” She took another sip, more eagerly. “This is delicious. What’s in it?”
“Secret recipe.” Hailey smiled, pleased. It was only a secret here in Chicago, but back home in St. Louis, her grandmother’s hot chocolate was legendary, especially on days like this. She and Gran would roughly chop the chocolate from a block and then melt it with cream on the stove, slowly letting the house be filled with the sweet smell. A dash of vanilla extract and a small pinch of cinnamon only added to the experience, not that she’d be telling anyone.
“She won’t even tell me,” Mandy cut in with a rueful grin as she grabbed a rag to wipe down the tables, even though they hadn’t been occupied yet today.
“Well, keep doing what you’re doing,” the woman said, dropping a generous tip in the jar.
For some reason, the simple statement made Hailey’s eyes prickle, and she managed to shakily murmur her gratitude before the woman—or Mandy—could see how deeply she was affected.
The wind tore through the café as the woman opened the door again, and Hailey shivered in her sweater. The room was warm, the carols were crooning on the radio, and there was a distinct smell of chocolate and peppermint in the air. But for the life of her, she still couldn’t summon that Christmas spirit.
Was this karma? Fate’s way of telling her she’d made the wrong choice all those years ago? That she should have moved to Wisconsin and married Pete, compromised on the dream she’d had for as long as she could remember—on the promise she’d made to her grandmother? Instead, she’d moved to Chicago, as planned, poured everything into this café, and now she was dangerously close to losing it. And then what would she have left?
She wasn’t a fool when it came to business. Quite the opposite. She’d studied hard in school, focusing her concentration in marketing. She’d come up with a business plan for herself and followed it through, albeit with a few tweaks. And for a while things were fine.
Now she wagered she had about three months to turn things around. Less if she was still paying Mandy. She just needed to think of a way to revive the place. She bit off a corner of a triple chocolate brownie—another one of her grandmother’s recipes and Pete’s favorite, she now recalled, as she chewed with less enthusiasm—and her mind turned blank.
Fresh air. She’d take a walk. That always cleared her head. When she first moved to Chicago, she loved nothing more than walking for hours, exploring every corner of this city until it became her own. She’d gotten lost in Chicago’s Loop that first year, going around in circles, unable to find the ‘L’ stop she needed to get back up to Lincoln Park. Now such a thing seemed impossible, laughable really. But back then, everything had been new. She’d soaked in the lakefront, the shops on the famed Michigan Avenue, and eventually discovered little gems only the locals knew about—like this café.
Eventually, she fell in love with the city, and her life in it, and she’d even convinced herself that she’d chosen correctly, that she was living the life she intended, and wanted. She’d followed her dream instead of her heart. And the thought of it all being for nothing in the end…was unbearable.
Before she could wallow any longer, she made a to-go cup of hot chocolate and topped it off with fresh marshmallows and whipped cream, and then, after a hesitation, a sprinkle of crushed candy canes. Maybe she’d take some hot chocolate to Pete to warm him up. Seeing as it was Christmastime and all.
Pete was midway through a speech about the pros and cons of a pine tree versus spruce when he saw Hailey cross the street, her cherry red scarf blowing in the wind, her matching hat slightly askew. He turned from his customers—a young family, all too happy to let their five-year-old son make this year’s selection—and cursed under his breath.
He should have known he couldn’t avoid her. That eventually one of them would break down, get curious, or just start feeling bad about how they’d left things off in the café. Heck, he’d had half a mind to march across the street more than once yesterday afternoon, but every time, he’d stopped himself, told himself no good would come from it. That she’d made her choice eight years ago.
Hailey hovered around the edges of the lot, pretending to feign interest in a ten-foot Douglas fir, until he had finalized the sale and called out to Mike to help the family and their excited son tie the tree to the roof of their car.
He pulled in a breath, noticing even from a distance the way the sunlight brought out the highlights in her hair poking out from under her hat, the way her cheeks were flushed with pink the way they used to be when she would laugh, the way her smile was slow as he approached .
The snow crunched under his boots. Other than that, the only sound he could make out was the pounding of his heart.
“Looking for a tree?” He smiled. He couldn’t help it. He could never stay mad at Hailey for long. Even when they argued. Even when she’d broken his heart.
Hailey shook her head. “Oh, no. My apartment’s pretty cramped.”
Her apartment. Singular. He tried not to get too excited about that.
But then Pete considered what else she’d said and frowned. “You mean to tell me you don’t plan to put up a Christmas tree?”
“That’s right,” Hailey said. She skirted her gaze to the left, then turned them boldly on him.
Peering at her for a second, Pete held up a finger, indicating for her to wait, and then walked purposefully to the end of the row, where they kept their smaller trees. He selected the most symmetric one, recalling how Hailey got caught up in this type of thing, back when they used to select a tree together, even for their small dorm rooms, and brought it back to where she stood.
“Problem solved.” He grinned as he gave the waist-high tree a little shake, expecting her to show some delight, but all he got in return was a watery smile.
“I just came to bring you this.” She stepped forward, thrusting a paper cup at him.
He cocked an eyebrow, all conversation of the tree now dropped. “A peace offering?”
“I was taking a walk and saw you standing out here and, well, it’s cold.” She broke his stare and shoved her hands into her coat pockets.
Yep. A peace offering then. It was the least she could do. Even if she was about eight years too late.
“So,” he said. “Do you always take walks in the freezing cold?”
“Yes.” She jutted her chin, and he knew when to stop.
He also knew when she wasn’t telling the truth.
Fighting a smile, he tapped the lid of the cup. “This isn’t what I think it is, is it?” Before she could reply, he lifted the drink to his nose, inhaling the sweet aroma of peppermint and chocolate and vanilla and a hint of something else—something secret she’d never told him in all the years they were together.
Memories of a happier time flooded the air as sweetly as the smell. Holidays with her parents in Missouri, and summers with his in Wisconsin. The year that they both got part-time jobs together at the pool near their college. The long drives they’d take on warm nights, just to park somewhere remote and spread out a blanket, to curl up in each other’s arms and look up at the stars. The world felt so big back then. And life felt so infinite.
He quickly took a sip before nostalgia got the better of him. It was easy to dwell on the good times, to forget about the bad. But then, it had always been that way with Hailey. She brought out the good in him, and today, he wished that she didn’t.
The warm liquid coated his throat, and despite himself, he felt his mouth curve into a smile. “Sweet Hailey,” he said, giving her a long look.
She blinked rapidly at the pet name he used to call her because she always smelled like sugar. If he closed his eyes, he was still back in that college bed, curled up on the cotton sheets, her arm around his waist, his head in her hair…
“Well, it’s just hot chocolate,” she said a little gruffly.
Now here was where he disagreed. “This is no ordinary hot chocolate.” He took another sip, savoring it. “I haven’t tasted anything like this since—”
He stopped himself. Their eyes met and her cheeks flushed despite the chill in the air.
He hadn’t thought of that day in years. Hadn’t allowed himself to. He’d left her that day, standing in the park, the snow coming down all around them, dusting their shoulders with the white powder, the ring heavy in his pocket. More than once, he’d told himself to stop being stubborn, to turn around, go back, put her first, and stick to their plans. But then what? His family depended on him. The farm needed him.
His father needed him.
He had no choice but to go back. But she had a choice to join him.
“For what it’s worth, I’m happy for you, Hailey.” His throat felt tight as her gaze softened to one of surprise. He motioned to the café across the street. “You did it. Everything you set out to do.”
Almost. Back when they were together, she’d talked about a bakery, one that focused on chocolate, her Gran’s favorite ingredient.
She dropped her head to look at the ground, tracing a pattern in the snow with the tip of her boot. He let his gaze trail down those long legs, remembering how they felt intertwined with his.
He cleared his throat and snapped his eyes back up, grinning a little at the oversized pom-pom on her hat. She’d always liked funny hats like that. It kept things interesting, she would say.
“And you?” Her eyes searched his. “Are you happy?”
The question hit him as hard as a punch in the gut. It was a question he hadn’t dared to ask himself, one he couldn’t entertain. If he did…He gritted his teeth. It wasn’t about happiness. And he’d been content enough. He’d found a way, over time, to adjust to his new life, to forget about the one he’d lost—or the one he might have had.
“Happy enough,” he managed.
“Dating?” The question was posed casually enough, but by the way her eyes struggled to meet his, he could tell she was just as reluctant to discuss this topic as he was.
“Not especially,” he replied. His gaze roamed her face. He didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know. “You?”
To his relief, she shook her head. “I’m too busy for that. The café is my top priority.”
He rolled back on his heels, the hurt of the past stinging sharp. “Of course.”
She must have caught the bitterness in his tone because her eyes flashed on his. “It’s not like that, Pete. I kept up my end of the bargain.”
“I know.” He nodded, because it was true, and there was nothing more he could say. “I know.”
They’d had a plan, one that they dreamed up together one of those summer nights, staring up at the sky. They’d move to Chicago. He’d go to med school—he’d already been accepted. She’d open a little bakery with the nest egg her grandmother had left her. They’d get a small apartment in a brownstone, close enough for her to walk to work. They’d get a dog. They’d get married.
They’d be happy.
She frowned deeply and looked around the lot. “You’re really happy then?”
Happy. That was a big word that stirred up too many regrets and wishes for things that could never be.
“I’d be happier if I had some of this hot chocolate every day.” He tipped his head as a thought occurred to him, and Hailey’s eyes rounded in fear.
“What? What is it?”
He laughed at her reaction, at the irony of their situation. They could still read each other’s expressions. It had been a long time since he’d experienced this kind of familiarity.
He had an idea. And she was worried she might not like it.
And maybe she wouldn’t, but he was desperate, even if he wasn’t about to admit it.
“I was just thinking that with your café right there, maybe you could sell some of this hot chocolate at the lot?”
He looked around at the rows of trees as the possibility became clear. It might be just the thing they needed to drive a little traffic to the holiday shop. Not that one lot’s success was going to turn around the farm, he reminded himself. He had cousins managing a few others in Milwaukee and some of the bigger Chicago suburbs. They’d all need to sell out to stand a chance of keeping the farm.
What they really needed was a miracle. Or an opportunity. And right now, Hailey might just be it.
“Oh.” She seemed to take a step back, hardly as enthusiastic about the idea as he was.
Of course. What was he thinking? Proposing more time together when what he should be doing was keeping his distance? But when did he ever want the path he should take?
“You’re probably busy at the café,” he said quickly. “Must be a busy time and all.”
She nodded, but there was doubt in her gaze. “It can be busy…”
“Forget I said anything. It was just one of those random thoughts.” He tipped his head back to the trailer, knowing the bank’s email couldn’t wait forever. “I should probably let you get back to your day. I have some work to do myself.”
“Yeah…I should go. Customers and all that.” Her smile was sheepish as she started to turn.
“Hailey.” His voice seemed to cut through the winter air, and when she turned and looked at him one more time, it was like the breath was taken from him for a beat. He swallowed. “Thanks for the hot chocolate.”
She dipped her chin. “Sure.”
He watched her go until she disappeared through the row of trees and soon after into her café. Despite the heaviness in his heart, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride for all that she’d accomplished.
At least one of them was living their dream. Maybe all that heartache had been worth it then.
Or would be. In the end.