Chapter Fourteen
“I have to go,” Larkin said, returning her phone to her pocket.
For a moment Carson’s expression softened. “Is your grandmother okay?”
“This is work.” She turned on her heel, not happy with how she was leaving things, but also too upset to trust herself to continue this conversation.
She was very aware of how much she owed Carson for doing this work for her grandmother.
But at the same time, she would not let him sit in judgment of her.
Of course she could always defend herself.
But he shouldn’t be putting her in the position of needing to.
Even though she was on foot, it only took ten minutes for Larkin to reach the Courier’s office on Front Avenue.
One of the benefits of a small town, she could walk pretty much anywhere in ten minutes or less.
As she pulled open the main door, she spotted Marly at the coffee station at the back of the office. There was no one else around.
“Good timing,” Marly said. “I just boiled the water to make some coffee. Would you like a cup?”
“Yes, thanks.” Already she could feel her blood pressure lowering.
There was something about this office she really liked.
It felt authentic and steeped in history.
She liked that the furniture was old, and the desk surfaces were scarred.
The framed photos on the wall might be yellowed, but they told the story of a proud small-town paper that had survived through all kinds of world upheaval.
“This has been quite a week.” Marly passed her a mug of coffee and pointed out the cream and sugar.
“Doctor it up how you like and let’s go to the layout table.
I’m going to be relieved to put this issue to bed.
I still have a lot of Christmas present wrapping to do.
How about you? Are you ready for Christmas? ”
“It’s easy for me. Gran and I will have a video call with my parents and sister’s family in the morning. Then we’re going to the Graff for Christmas dinner.” She’d made the reservation a month ago, knowing that the hotel would likely be fully booked for the holiday.
“We can’t compete with the Graff, but if you’d be happy to settle for a home-cooked turkey you’re welcome to come to our house. Mom is flying in from Chicago, but otherwise it will be just Drake, me, and our kiddo.”
“That’s very kind. But we wouldn’t want to impose.”
“You wouldn’t be. My mom would enjoy seeing your grandmother again. They were good friends back in the day.”
“I’ll ask Gran,” Larkin finally agreed.
“Now, about your article.”
As Marly splayed her hands on the table and leaned in, Larkin prepared herself for the criticism. As a journalist you had to have a thick skin, but it was never easy when an editor suggested changes, or, worse still, rejected a piece outright.
“I loved it,” Marly said. “This is just the kind of feature on Bramble House I was looking for. And I also liked your suggestion for the follow-ups.”
“You did?”
“Absolutely. I know I’ve asked before, but I have to ask again. I’d love to offer you the position of chief editor for the Courier.” She slid a piece of paper across the table. “Here’s the deal. It’s probably not what you’re used to, but the cost of living in Marietta is a lot less than Denver.”
“Marly, I’m really flattered. I have a lot of respect for local journalism. I think it’s important for our country and I’d love to be a part of what your family has built here at the Courier. But I have to be honest. Much as I love my grandmother, I just can’t see myself moving to Marietta.”
“This is a pretty vibrant community. We have more to offer than you might think. Plus, we seem to generate a lot of great eligible men. If you’re into that.”
“Men are great as a concept. Individually I haven’t done so well with them.”
Marly laughed. “I could have said the same thing before I reconnected with Drake. Will you do me a favor and think it over at least? And either way, my offer for Christmas dinner stands.”
*
Christmas was such a busy time at the bed and breakfast, Amy rarely had time to enjoy all the activities she recommended to her guests. Today all that had changed, and as she and Chet stood in line with Robin to visit Santa, she was full of gratitude.
Gratitude for the snow and the beautiful Montana mountains.
It had been magical snowshoeing with Chet this morning.
He was more at home on the back of a horse than on snowshoes, but he’d been such a good sport.
And Robin had loved riding in the carrier on his daddy’s back.
He’d been thrilled when Amy used a peanut to lure a Clark’s nutcracker down from his perch on a pine tree.
They’d had an early lunch at the Main Street Diner and then Robin had taken his daily nap in the carrier, dozing while she and Chet took their time shopping along Main Street.
Amy couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone into a store just to look around and not because she needed something specific.
Once Robin had woken up, they’d headed to the Graff Hotel and joined the queue to visit Santa.
There were lots of parents and grandparents in line with little ones. Lots of babies too. It did seem that most of the children two years and younger cried or looked unhappy for their photo on Santa’s knee.
But Kris kept his cool and his smile. He made such an excellent Santa, with his pristine outfit and one-hundred-percent genuine snowy-white beard.
When it came to Robin’s turn, her son surprised everyone by holding out his arms and going willingly to Santa. “He must recognize Kris from Bramble House,” Amy whispered to her husband.
“Smart boy,” Chet said. “A fancy red suit doesn’t fool him.”
They got a marvelous photo of Robin pulling at Kris’s beard and then moved aside for the next in line.
“Time for hot chocolate,” Amy announced.
Robin clapped his hands. “Num Num!”
“I wonder what Christmas gift Robin asked Santa for?” Chet said as they left the hotel and headed toward to the chocolate shop.
“I hope it was a train set,” Amy said. “Since that’s what we got him.”
“Should I get two hot chocolates and one tepid chocolate drink?” Chet asked her as they entered the chocolate-and-caramel-scented shop. Everywhere she looked, Amy saw tempting displays and beautifully wrapped gift boxes.
“Yes, please. I’ve got a cheese stick and some carrots in the pack for Robin. I’ll start him on those while you’re in line.”
She went to the back of the shop to grab a table, but they were all full. Suddenly she heard someone call her name.
“Hey, Amy!” It was Gemma, at a table for four with Oliver, and Oliver’s sister Trish and nephew Sawyer. “If you’re looking for a place to sit, we were just about to leave.”
“Thank you so much. It’s crazy in here.”
“Just two shopping days left before Christmas,” Trish said, standing and slipping on her coat. “Don’t forget your mittens, Sawyer.”
Spotting them on the table, Amy handed them to the young boy who would be around eight now. “Have you gone to visit Santa yet this year?”
“We’re going now,” Oliver said.
“I’m going to ask for downhill skis,” Sawyer said. “Uncle Oliver’s going to teach me.”
“You bet I am.” Oliver ruffled his nephew’s hair. “Merry Christmas, Amy.”
“Yes, Merry Christmas,” Gemma added, pulling a hat over her long, wavy hair. She looked at Amy as if she wanted to tell her something.
“What’s up?” Amy asked.
Gemma moved closer and lowered her voice. “We came here to celebrate. I passed the three-month mark today.”
Three months. Amy checked out her friend’s beaming face. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant?”
Gemma nodded. “I wanted to tell you at the Christmas tea, but I never found the right moment.”
“I’m so happy for you.” Amy gave her friend a hug. She wished they had more time to talk, but the rest of Gemma’s family was waiting for her. No doubt Sawyer was anxious to see Santa.
“Let’s go for a coffee after Christmas,” Amy said.
“Definitely. But we’ll make mine a decaf,” Gemma said.
Amy thought about how tired she’d been feeling. Her up and down moods. When had she had her last period? She’d been so busy, she’d completely lost track.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Chet set a tray with their drinks on the table.
“I was just talking to Gemma. Guess what? She’s three months pregnant.”
“Wow, that’s big news. I didn’t know they were planning to start a family yet.”
“These things aren’t always planned.”
“That’s true. We sure weren’t expecting Robin, were we?”
Amy took a sip of her hot chocolate. She and Chet had been experimenting with contraception methods back then. None had seemed the perfect choice. It was a dilemma they still struggled with. “Do you ever think about when we should have our second?”
“Not for a while,” Chet said. “Robin’s still a baby, right?”
“Officially he’s a toddler.”
“Yeah, but still. There’s no rush. We’ve got lots of time to make Robbie a big brother.”
Amy took another drink of her hot chocolate and wondered if that was true.
*
After her meeting with Marly, Larkin returned to Bramble House and took her grandmother out for lunch. She passed Shelley on the front porch stairs. The young woman seemed to be in a hurry.
“Leaving already?” Larkin asked. Usually Shelley worked until well after lunchtime.
“I’ve got a hair appointment,” Shelley said. “My boyfriend and I are having a special date tonight to mark our one-year anniversary.”
“Have fun.” Larkin continued up the stairs and into the house. Her gran was in the library, just finishing the last page of her book. She waited patiently for her to finish.
“What a great twist at the end. Stephen King always delivers.” Her grandmother closed the book and handed it to Larkin. “Would you put this back on the shelf for me?”
Larkin returned it to the fiction section. “Ready for lunch?” she asked. “Where would you like to go?”
“Main Street Diner. And I’d like to try walking. It’s only a few blocks.”
Since the sidewalks had all been cleared of snow, Larkin figured that was probably a good idea. Her grandmother did remarkably well and seemed very pleased with herself when they settled at a table and placed orders for beef and barley soup.
Christmas carols were playing over the sound system, and everyone in the diner seemed to have at least one shopping bag tucked under their table.
The mood in the diner was happy and joyous.
Larkin wished some of the magic would rub off on her.
Though she was pleased Marly had seemed so happy with her story, her earlier argument with Carson weighed heavily on her mind.
“Gran, do you remember Angela Akers?”
“Of course I do. For almost twenty years I wrote a gardening column for the Courier. Angela told me I had a flair for the written word.” Gran’s eyes took on a new gleam. “Maybe you inherited your talent for writing from me.”
“I bet I did,” Larkin said. She told her grandmother about the invitation to have Christmas dinner with Angela, Marly, and Drake. “I could cancel our reservation at the Graff if you’d like to accept?”
“Oh, yes, I’d love to see Angela again. The Graff’s restaurant is so special and fancy, but Christmas is for family and friends, don’t you think?”
Larkin nodded. “I’ll phone Marly later and accept the invitation.”
The soup was served with a thick slice of focaccia bread, and neither Larkin nor her grandmother felt any inclination for dessert or even a cup of tea after.
“I’d like to do my exercises and then have a nap,” Gran said, folding her napkin on the table.
“Good plan.”
An hour later, Larkin was at loose ends, not sure what to do with herself while her grandmother napped.
She went up to her room and made the call to Marly, who sounded pleased that they were accepting her invitation.
Then she canceled her reservation at the Graff, with apologies, but they assured her they had a waitlist of patrons who would be happy to take their table.
Larkin found herself thinking about Carson. What would he be doing for Christmas dinner? Probably he’d be going back to Whispering Pines to share a turkey dinner with his parents and brothers.
Not that it was any of her concern. She had to stop thinking about him.
What she needed was a good book to read.
Maybe she’d also grab a mug of hot apple cider.
She was on her way out of the room when she noticed the printed copy of her article, which she’d left on her dresser.
The pages were askew. Had she left them that way?
She tidied the papers, then went down to the library.