Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
The warm, spicy aroma of gingerbread filled every corner of Vanessa’s kitchen as she pulled a tray of muffins from the oven.
She’d never been much of a cook or baker—that was definitely Jackson’s domain—but she’d been trying to learn how to make some holiday treats herself.
She’d been experimenting with this recipe for a while now, and as she tapped the domed top of the muffin and watched it spring back into place, she thought she might finally have perfected it.
The house smelled like molasses and cinnamon and ginger, and she beamed as she set the muffin tin on the cooling rack before dusting a light sprinkle of coarse sugar over the tops.
She felt very proud of her accomplishment, especially considering that a little over a year ago, she’d barely ever touched her kitchen in her San Francisco apartment. She was still learning her way around, but she felt a lot more confident than she had before.
Through the kitchen window, she could see Jackson balanced on a ladder against the front of their house, carefully stringing lights along the roofline.
He’d been out there for the better part of two hours, working on putting up the decorations she’d managed to talk him into.
He still wasn’t convinced that they needed a display to rival everyone else on the street, and she got the impression that, despite his love of Christmas, he thought the neighborhood competition was a little over the top.
But he was trying to make her happy, and she loved that about him, even if it had taken some time to win him over to her way of thinking.
She couldn’t wait to see how it looked. She’d loved their house from the moment it had first gone on the market, before it was even theirs, and she’d known it would be perfect for them.
Would she still have bought it if she’d known that there would be so much holiday pressure to come up with the perfect decorations?
Probably, she told herself. And anyway, she thought it was fun.
Jackson had been the one to encourage her to open herself up to the over-the-top kitschiness of Fir Tree Grove’s Christmas traditions, so she thought it was only fair that he support her desire to fit in with the neighborhood tradition.
She wanted to feel like they belonged, and even though Jackson had suggested that, since they were new, it might not be that big of a deal to participate this year, she thought that made it an even bigger deal.
When she’d first come to visit, it had felt like a lot of residents had thought that she felt as though she was too good for them.
She didn’t want her new neighbors to feel like that too.
Jackson had capitulated with good-natured resignation this past weekend, and they’d gone to the Holly and Ivy Market to pick out some lights and decorations.
He’d warned her that while he always had fun with the Snowdrift Diner display, he wasn’t exactly Clark Griswold when it came to home decorations for Christmas, but Vanessa was excited all the same.
She was sure he’d pull off some kind of magic, and she watched him as he moved the ladder to the next spot, wondering what it would all look like when he’d finished plotting it out and hanging the decorations.
The houses on either side of them had already finished going all out—besides the synchronized lighting display across the street, their neighbors to the left had decorated every tree in their yard, their fence, and the entire exterior of their house in lights, complete with an animatronic sleigh and reindeer in the front yard.
On the other side, there was a life-sized nativity scene and a small barn with lit-up animals, along with a family of snowmen and more colorful lights everywhere.
Vanessa tested one of the muffins with a toothpick, then set it on a little China plate decorated with holly around the edge, and poured a glass of cold milk to go with it. Jackson had been out there for two hours now, the least she could do was bring him a Christmassy snack, she thought.
The afternoon was bright and cold and crisp, and she drew a deep lungful of the fresh, pine-scented air.
Everything out here always smelled fresh and clean, and she smiled as she looked around the snowy yard.
She couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.
Their house looked lovely in the afternoon light, the sage green exterior and cream-colored trim blending with the oak trees flanking the house.
It was nothing like Vanessa had ever imagined herself owning, and it was better than anything she could have ever dreamed of.
Jackson was about halfway along the roofline, stringing a second line of warm white lights. At the market, Vanessa had thought it would look crisp and elegant, but now, looking at it again, she felt her heart sink as she realized that it was going to ultimately look underwhelming.
There were already the same lights around the windows, the porch, and threaded through the trees, but it looked… plain. She bit her lip, wondering how exactly she was going to pretend that she was happy with it.
“Jackson,” she called up to him, trying to keep her voice cheerful. “I brought you a snack.”
He looked down from his perch on the ladder, his face lighting up when he saw the muffin and milk.
“Perfect timing. I was just thinking about taking a break.” He climbed down carefully, accepting the plate and glass with a grin on his face.
“These smell incredible. You’ve really mastered the gingerbread thing. ”
“Thanks,” Vanessa said absently, but her attention was already drifting back to the house. She took several steps backward, trying to get a better perspective on Jackson’s decorating efforts.
The lights were beautiful, warm and welcoming, but as Vanessa surveyed the overall effect, she knew she wasn’t doing a great job of concealing her disappointment.
Compared to what she’d been envisioning, and especially compared to what their neighbors were clearly planning, their house looked almost bare.
“It’s very nice,” she said carefully, trying to inject enthusiasm into her voice. “Very… tasteful.”
Jackson paused in the middle of taking a bite of muffin, studying her expression as he raised an eyebrow. “But?”
“There’s no but,” Vanessa said quickly. “I appreciate all the work you’re putting into this. Really, I do.”
“Vanessa.” Jackson set down the plate and moved closer to her, his thumb touching the center of her chin gently. “You’re disappointed. I can see it written all over your face.”
She sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to hide her feelings from him.
“I’m not disappointed in you,” she said quickly.
“You did a great job with what we picked. It’s just not…
” She trailed off, trying to think of how to phrase it, and she saw Jackson following her gaze to the houses on either side of them.
“Ah, I think I see the problem,” Jackson said ruefully.
“I like to deck out the diner with a bunch of decorations every Christmas, but putting together a fancy, organized display isn’t quite my forte.
I’m more of a ‘throw a bunch of things up and hope it looks good’ kind of guy. Not a professional decorator.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened as a sudden inspiration struck her. “That’s it!” she exclaimed, spinning around to face Jackson with sudden excitement. “That’s the answer!”
“What’s the answer?” Jackson asked, looking slightly alarmed by her sudden burst of energy. “You want me to put up a bunch more random lights like I do at the diner?”
“Well… no.” She chuckled, then grinned at him.
“But you made a good point: you’re not a professional decorator.
I think we need someone who knows what they’re doing and has all the right equipment.
” Giving him a quick kiss, she turned and headed toward her car, her mind racing with possibilities.
“I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t go anywhere!
And make sure to leave a muffin for me!”
“Vanessa, wait—” Jackson called after her, but she was already climbing into her car and starting the engine.
As she pulled out of the driveway, Vanessa could see Jackson in her rearview mirror, standing in their front yard with the half-eaten muffin still in his hand, looking equal parts amused and concerned.
She drove all the way to Henry’s house, where she had a feeling he’d be in his shop working on a project. He worked regular hours and then was on-call the rest of the time, and at this time in the evening, she knew she’d probably catch him rewiring an antique lamp or something like that.
Sure enough, as she pulled up in the driveway, she saw him in the garage with the door open despite the chill, working at his table. She killed the engine and stepped out, waving as she walked up the drive, too excited to worry about the fact that he was definitely off the clock.
She had no idea if he had the time to take on her project.
But she knew he loved this time of year and working on the town Christmas displays, and it would be a huge coup if she could get him to work on her house.
She wondered if anyone else on Birch Street had managed to snag him first, and if it would be a conflict of interest.
Henry looked up as he heard her footsteps, his eyebrows rising.
He was in his early fifties, with graying brown hair and that kind of workman’s rugged complexion that was lightly lined for his age.
He waved to Vanessa, setting down his tools as she approached, looking slightly puzzled as to why she was there.
“Everything all right?” he called out, pulling off his gloves and walking toward her. “Is there some kind of electrical emergency at home? Or the diner?”