Chapter 30
The bellman greeted Lauren and Pumpkin the next morning with a friendly wave. “Did your luggage arrive last night? It hadn’t by the time my shift ended.”
Lauren shook her head. “I spent half an hour on hold with the airline this morning. They finally located my suitcase … in Dallas.” She gave a rueful smile. “They’re rerouting it today and hoping it will reach me tomorrow. Or the next day.”
“Oh dear,” he said sympathetically. “Christmas Eve and Christmas? I wouldn’t rely on that.”
“I won’t,” Lauren replied. “Pumpkin and I are going to buy makeup and clothes to tide me over.”
Pumpkin wagged as if she approved of this plan.
The bellman reached for the heavy brass door handle but paused. “You explored near the wharf yesterday, didn’t you?”
“We did. There are plenty of T-shirt shops and a few clothing stores.”
“If you turn the other way when you exit, toward Spring Street instead of Thames, you’ll find more local boutiques. Newport residents shop on Spring rather than along Thames.”
“We’ll head there.” Lauren reached out and squeezed his elbow. “You’ve been a lifesaver.”
He opened the door, and they stepped into bright winter sunlight.
The sky was clear, but the air carried a sharp bite.
Within minutes, Lauren and Pumpkin were strolling along Spring Street.
Unlike the tourist-heavy wharf, this stretch felt intimate and lived-in.
Window boxes overflowed with pine boughs and red berries.
Fresh wreaths hung from black iron brackets.
Handwritten chalkboards outside shops read:
Hot Cocoa Inside
Holiday Sale — Today Only
Annual Spring Street Carolers Tonight
At the third boutique they passed, Lauren stopped short.
The window display was a collage of Fair Isle cardigans and pullovers in vibrant jewel tones and sophisticated neutrals, hung from nearly invisible fishing line, floating like winter constellations, or draped across mannequins posed beside wooden sleds.
“I’ve always wanted a Fair Isle sweater,” she murmured to Pumpkin.
Pumpkin tugged toward the door as if to say, Obviously.
A bell chimed as they entered. A woman with silver-streaked hair sat behind the register, knitting. “Good morning,” she said warmly.
Lauren selected a pair of dark-wash jeans and tailored, black dress slacks from nearby racks before approaching the counter.
“I’ll start a fitting room for you,” the woman said. “If you need different sizes, I’ll bring them.”
“You have a beautiful shop,” Lauren replied.
“Are you local?”
“Visiting from California,” Lauren said. “The storm delayed my flight, and my suitcase decided to vacation in Texas instead of Rhode Island.”
The woman laughed. “Not ideal.”
“I don’t want to wear this sweater and jeans the entire trip.” She gestured toward the window. “Are the Fair Isle sweaters still available?”
“Only the ones in the display. Would you like to try any of them?”
“Yes, please.”
“You’re a small?”
Lauren nodded.
“Then you’re in luck.” The woman rose and retrieved three sweaters: one in teal and coral, one cream with navy accents, and one in deep forest green tones. “We also have long-sleeve tees that layer beautifully underneath,” she added.
Lauren was the only customer in the shop.
“Would your little friend like to stay up front with me?” the proprietor asked. “My schnauzer usually comes to work, but I left her home today. There’s a dog bed behind the counter.”
Lauren crouched. “What do you think, Pumpkin? Want to supervise?”
Pumpkin trotted behind the counter without hesitation and curled into the waiting bed as if she owned it. “Traitor,” Lauren whispered affectionately.
By the time Lauren finished browsing, the dressing room held an impressive array: two pairs of pants, three Fair Isle sweaters, six layering tees, and four soft crewneck sweaters.
Pumpkin followed Lauren into the dressing room and settled against the wall, observing critically.
“Everything fits,” Lauren called through the door. “And it all looks amazing.”
“Sounds like your luggage misfortune turned into shopping karma,” the woman replied.
Lauren turned in front of the mirror, admiring the teal and coral sweater.
“I can’t decide which one I like best.”
“This year’s Fair Isle selection is the prettiest we’ve ever carried,” the proprietor said.
Lauren stepped out to show her.
“That one,” the woman declared immediately. “It lights up your eyes.”
Lauren studied herself again. “I’m going to buy all three,” she said finally. “Actually … I’m going to buy everything I tried on.” She laughed. “I don’t even know how I’ll get it all home.”
“There’s a luggage shop a block down,” the woman said smoothly.
“Thank goodness.”
As the proprietor rang up the items, Lauren’s eye caught a rack tucked into a corner. “Wait. What are those?”
“Velvet cocktail dresses. Seasonal stock. They’re thirty percent off.”
Lauren hesitated. “I never go anywhere fancy. I have no use for a cocktail dress.”
“That’s the thing about party dresses,” the woman said. “You never know when you’ll need one.”
Lauren walked to the rack and returned with two dresses—a sapphire blue and a classic black. “I don’t know why I’m even trying these on.”
“If you buy one,” the woman replied knowingly, “the reason will appear.”
Moments later, Lauren stepped out wearing the sapphire velvet. The fabric caught the light like midnight water. The empire waist and flowing skirt gracefully draped across her slim form.
The proprietor led her to the three-way mirror. “It looks made for you.”
Lauren swallowed. “It is beautiful. But when would I wear it?”
The woman snapped her fingers. “Tonight.”
Lauren blinked.
“The Spring Street merchants are doing our annual Christmas caroling. We meet across the street at 5:45 and walk the residential streets singing. Some houses serve hot cider. Others pass out cookies. It’s straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting.”
Lauren smiled slowly. “That sounds magical.”
“It is. Though we’re short on voices this year.” She studied Lauren. “Are you by any chance a singer?”
“I’m a soprano. I sang in my college choir for four years.”
“I’m Helen, by the way,” the woman said. “Would you join us?”
Lauren glanced down at Pumpkin.
“Is she welcome?”
“Absolutely. I’m bringing my dog.”
Lauren drew in a breath. Reading in her hotel room could wait another night. “Yes. I’m Lauren, and this is Pumpkin. We’d love to join you.”
The woman clapped her hands with delight. “Wonderful! That blue dress will be perfect.”
Lauren changed back into her clothes and returned to the register. “Add the dress,” she said firmly.
The proprietor folded it carefully in tissue paper and sealed it with a gold-embossed boutique sticker.
“The dress is on the house,” she said. “To thank you for joining our merry band on short notice.”
Lauren’s eyes widened. “I can’t possibly—”
“I insist.”
Pumpkin thumped her tail approvingly. “You Newport people are dangerously kind,” Lauren said.
Helen smiled. “See you at 5:45, dear. You’re going to turn heads.”