Chapter 30
THIRTY
LIAM
On Thursday night, Liam met Zach and Tyler at the Kettle for a round of darts and a couple of beers. Jackson didn’t want to come of course. He thought about inviting Cassidy, but Tyler was single and Zach hadn’t said anything about bringing Madison. It felt like a guys-only night.
That might be the case now, but earlier, his phone was blowing up with the group chat.
Madison: Okay, okay I need to know… how did I miss the Team Cassidy vs. Team Liam sweaters?
Kit: You were literally in the room when the crafting club talked about it!
Madison: Yeah but I thought they were joking?? Now they’ve already been made somehow and it’s all over Elsie’s social feed!! I just saw two middle schoolers arguing over which team to join.
Cassidy: It’s so cute, OMG.
Emily: I give up! Anyway, I won last year.
Zach: I’m Team Whoever Brings Me Food. I can be bought.
Zoe: All jokes aside, I don’t care if I win. I’ve got a whole fundraiser planned for my eco project with the greenhouse kids and Mrs. C.’s Sunday Club. We’re good.
Emily: Same. Honestly, the more the town hypes this rivalry, the more people turn out. That means more sales for everyone. Win-win.
Madison: I love this town so much. Also I want both sweaters.
Liam hearted the last message and shoved his phone back into his pocket.
The Kettle was packed, as usual. The tavern had gone all-in for Christmas.
Silver tinsel was draped along the walls and around every beam, catching the glow of red and green twinkle lights strung from the ceiling.
The mirror-backed bar reflected the lights, making the uneven cobblestone floor seem brighter than usual.
Framed pictures on the walls—snapshots of locals, vintage beer ads, and old concert posters—had been wrapped in festive holiday paper and rehung like presents on the walls.
The scent of wood-fired pizza and fried everything filled the air.
They’d demolished a plate of chicken wings, devoured a deep-dish pizza, and played more than a few rounds of darts.
Thankfully, Cassidy’s name hadn’t come up once yet.
If Liam glanced at the door more than once or twice, hoping she might walk in, Zach didn’t say anything.
Liam remembered a time not long ago when Zach had done the same thing.
Liam had left his friend alone then—and Zach was returning the favor.
It wasn’t until an hour or so later, on his way home, down the streetlight-lit street with the snow crunching under his boots, that he spotted her.
She was still outside, working on the Cocoa Corner’s window display. From a block away, he could see her shivering despite her red puffer coat and a white beanie hat dusted in glitter.
Liam picked up his pace.
“Not again,” she muttered to herself.
“You’re not locked out again, are you?” Liam tried to joke.
Cassidy startled, jerking at the sound of his voice. The cup in her hand flung upward, splattering him right in the face. A white, chalky substance splashed into his beard and dripped down his coat.
“Oh my God, you scared me!” Cassidy cried, reaching out with the end of her scarf to dab at his face.
Liam cautiously tasted the corner of his lip. “That’s not chocolate.”
“No, it’s paint. I was trying to touch up the window, but everything keeps freezing.” She sneezed and sniffled again.
That’s when he really looked at her. She had dark circles under her eyes, her hands were red from the cold, and she couldn’t stop coughing. She was clearly getting sick.
He caught her hands gently, stopping her attempts to clean him up. “Have you been out here all day?”
“Pretty much, whenever I had a customer break,” she admitted. “There’s just so much work left and not enough time. I don’t know how you’re managing it all.”
“Leave the window. Come inside,” he said firmly.
“But if I don’t finish—”
“You’ll finish it tomorrow,” Liam cut in.
There was no room for argument.
“You’re doing too much,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
Cassidy gave a weak smile.
He guided her firmly through her shop, toward the back, and up the staircase.
Muff greeted them with a bark and a tail wag when she opened the door.
“Hey, girl, you need to go out?” he asked the pup.
“You don’t have to. I can go back down—” Cassidy started to say.
“It’s alright. Just let me wash this paint off my face, and I’ll take care of her,” he insisted.
“The bathroom is the first door on your right,” she said, clearly not having the energy to argue, for once.
Cassidy’s apartment was a small, one-bedroom, one-bath flat. A galley kitchen and living room took up the main living space, with a bathroom and bedroom down a short hall.
Liam made quick work of washing up. Cassidy’s bathroom was like the rest of her apartment. It wasn’t designer chic; it was more homestead Christmas.
Her bathroom had little green Christmas tree soaps in a white porcelain soap dish, hand-painted with festive green holly. He didn’t want to use her good soap or dry his face on her good holiday towels, but that was all she had.
Out in the living room, she had a four-foot pink tinsel tree in the corner.
Liam knew that if she’d had the room, the tree would have been ten feet tall.
As it was, the tree was filled with mismatched, homemade ornaments.
He didn’t linger; he only had a moment while Cassidy fetched Muff’s leash, but in that brief minute, he saw crocheted cocoa mugs, a painted gingerbread man, and cinnamon dough stars.
The couch was draped in a bright blue knit blanket with palm-sized white snowflakes added to the squares and white faux fur throw pillows. A felt Advent calendar hung on the wall. It was the kind with a wooden Christmas tree that you moved daily from pocket to pocket.
Cassidy’s voice croaked as she reappeared, leash in hand, a box of tissues tucked under her arm.
“I might’ve gone a little overboard with the decorations this year.
It was the first time I’d been able to unbox them for a few years,” she apologized before punctuating the sentence with a sneeze so sharp it startled Muff, who gave a tiny bark in response.
He wanted to say something about how unfair that was, how she should’ve been able to decorate her Parisian apartment however she wanted, but he didn’t because Muff was jumping up and down, prancing around the living room like she needed to go out, now!
So, he clipped on the pup’s leash and promised Cassidy they’d be back in a few minutes.
Liam dialed Zach’s mom, Anita, who lived nearby, on his way down the stairs.
“Liam, what’s up?” she asked when their lines connected.
“Cassidy’s sick. I was hoping you still had some of that chicken noodle soup of yours?”
“I have plenty. Some fresh bread too. I’ll meet you at the front door in fifteen minutes.”
Oak Way was quiet, the kind of quiet that only came after closing time, when the shops had gone still but their windows still glowed with twinkle lights set to timers.
Even from down the road, Liam could see the Cinnamon Spice Inn.
The lights must’ve been set to stay on until at least midnight.
Madison had strung lights on every tree and bush, and along the roofline, making the inn appear warm and inviting even in the freezing cold.
Liam hadn’t noticed that before. But he noticed it now.
Just like how he noticed the fresh snow that covered the sidewalk, clean except for a trail of Muff’s pawprints as she walked around, nose to the ground, taking her time.
He gave Muff a few minutes, watching tiny flecks of snow drift through the air, catching in the light like silver glitter.
The gaslit fireplace on the street corner was still going, firelight flickering behind the screen, even if no one sat in the Adirondack chairs tonight.
The street was silent. Not another soul in sight.
It was peaceful in a way that only Maple Falls could be.
Liam thought Cassidy would’ve called the moment magical. He didn’t disagree.
Anita opened the café door right on time and handed over a brown paper bag. “There’s enough for two,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “Take care of her.”
He nodded. “Don’t worry. I will.”
Anita didn’t let go of the bag right away. Her hand lingered for a second, her gaze soft but steady. “You’re a good boy.”
Liam grinned, not allowing the moment to get too heavy. “Keep it down, will you? I don’t want my reputation ruined.” He thought for a beat before adding, “And don’t tell my mother.”
Anita smiled, letting go of the bag. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
He knew that to be true. Zach’s mom heard plenty of small-town gossip at her café, but she tended to listen to it rather than spread it. He appreciated that about her.
“Thanks, you’re the best.” Liam gave a tip of his imaginary hat and headed back down Oak Way, making one more quick stop along the way.
Back at Cassidy’s, he knocked and opened the door, announcing himself as he did.
“It’s just us,” he said, unclipping Muff and following her through the kitchen into the living room.
Muff wasted no time climbing up on the couch and tucking in next to Cassidy, who was curled up in the corner, shivering under the knit snowflake blanket.
“I got you some soup,” Liam added, taking the bag to the kitchen and getting down a bowl. He’d save the rest for her for later.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said. “I could’ve made some ramen or something.”
“I doubt you want to do much of anything,” Liam replied. She was looking worse by the minute.
“I think I’m getting a fever,” she admitted.
“I picked up some cold medicine too—pick your poison,” he said, taking out some nighttime cold medicine along with Tylenol and some flu and cold capsules. “Wasn’t sure what your go-to was, but I generally like to knock myself out when I’m dealing with the crud.”
“You didn’t have to do all this,” Cassidy said softly when he returned with the warmed-up soup, and set up cold medicine, a fresh bottle of water, and a mug of tea beside her.
“I know. I wanted to,” he said.
Cassidy shivered.
“You need a pillow. Do you mind?” He motioned back down the hall to her bedroom.
“No, a pillow would be great,” she replied, eyes closed.
He moved quietly down the hall, his boots softened by the rug. Her bedroom door was slightly ajar.
This was the first time he’d let himself step inside. Before, the idea of being alone in her space, the place where she slept, dreamed, and rested, had felt too intimate. Too tempting. But she needed him. He was here for her, not himself, and somehow knowing that made it even harder to breathe.
The room was small but warm, with a red-and-white holiday quilt tucked over the bed. A few Christmas throw pillows were arranged neatly, and soft white twinkle lights were draped around the window frame. It smelled of vanilla and peppermint.
Liam stopped when he spotted the full-length mirror in the corner. He couldn’t stop the flash of images, of the things he wanted to do with Cassidy in front of that mirror.
Swallowing his desire down, he grabbed the pillow from the bed and turned to go, but not before letting himself glance around once more.
Someday soon…