Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
The early morning air carried a crisp bite that made Mabel’s cheeks flush pink as she and Vanessa hurried up the path to George’s front door.
The snow on either side of the shoveled drive—a neighbor had handled that yesterday—glittered in the early morning light, and Mabel took it all in for a moment before unlocking the front door to head inside.
Vanessa was carrying everything they needed to make George a good breakfast before they headed into the toy shop that day.
He still wasn’t feeling well, and Mabel felt sure that the best path to getting him in good health again was making sure he ate well.
She didn’t want him to have to forage for himself, knowing he wouldn’t eat as well as he would if she was caring for him.
She’d brought fresh eggs from the local farm, thick-cut bacon, homemade biscuits she’d baked the night before, and a jar of local strawberry preserves that she’d been saving for a special occasion. If nursing George back to health wasn’t special enough, she didn’t know what was.
“Are you sure he won’t mind us barging in this early?” Vanessa asked, adjusting her scarf against the morning chill. Her breath formed small puffs in the cold air, and she stamped her feet lightly on the porch to keep warm.
“He’s probably still asleep,” Mabel said with a laugh. “And besides, you know as well as I do that George Lowery would live on nothing but coffee and stale crackers while he’s sick if left to his own devices.”
The lights on the Christmas tree were off, and Mabel turned them on to give the living room a cozy glow as they headed into the kitchen. “I’ll start cooking,” Vanessa said, “if you want to go check on him. Jackson’s taught me a thing or two.”
“I’ll do that,” Mabel said, fetching the things to make a quick cup of tea before heading up to George’s room.
“George?” she called softly as she rapped on the door, not wanting to startle him if he was still sleeping. “It’s Mabel and Vanessa. We’ve come to make you breakfast.”
A weak cough echoed from the direction of his bedroom, followed by the sound of shuffling feet.
Moments later, George appeared in the doorway, wrapped in his thick robe.
His gray hair was disheveled, and his normally bright eyes were dulled by illness, but he managed a grateful smile when he saw her.
“You two are going to spoil me rotten,” he said, his voice hoarse and scratchy. Another cough shook his shoulders, and Mabel immediately rushed to his side, guiding him to his favorite armchair by the window.
“That’s exactly the plan,” she said firmly, tucking a soft throw blanket around his legs. “Now, you sit right there and don’t even think about moving. Vanessa and I are going to make you the best breakfast you’ve had in weeks. I’ll bring it up to you. And drink your tea.”
George chuckled weakly, which immediately dissolved into another coughing fit. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he managed between coughs, and Mabel felt a warm glow at the endearment, despite the rasping tone it was delivered in.
She came back down to find Vanessa cooking bacon and warming up the biscuits, and Mabel joined her at the stove to start on the eggs. The kitchen was filled in short order with the delicious smell of breakfast, and Vanessa’s stomach rumbled as she flipped the bacon.
“I might steal a piece for myself,” she laughed. “I only had time to grab a muffin on the way out, this morning. Jackson and I were up late going over plans for the lighting display on the house.”
“How is that going?” Mabel looked at her curiously, and Vanessa beamed.
“So much better, since we hired Henry to help. He came up with some amazing ideas. We’re going to do some shopping, and before we know it, our house will rival any of the others on Birch Street.”
“I knew the two of you would figure it out—George!” Mabel tsked as the sound of footsteps could be heard in the doorway, and George appeared in pajamas and his robe, looking tired. “I said we could bring it up to you.”
“I want to eat at my own table,” he grumped, sinking down at the far end. “It smells amazing. You’ve really outdone yourselves. Especially considering this ridiculous flu made me miss our caroling date.”
“I’m sure Mabel was looking forward to hearing your lovely voice,” Vanessa teased. “But there’s plenty of time left in the season to get your Christmas spirit going. You’ve got to get well first, though.”
“Speaking of Christmas spirit—” Mabel pushed the scrambled eggs around the pan, looking between George and Vanessa mischievously. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that, lately. It really has a way of bringing people together, doesn’t it?”
Vanessa narrowed her eyes at her grandmother. “You’re up to something. What is it this time?”
“If it’s resuming our pranks, I don’t think I’m up to it just yet,” George added, sipping his tea. “I’ll need to recover for a while first, I think.”
Mabel tried to look innocent, although she suspected she wasn’t entirely successful. “I’m not plotting anything, you two. I’m just observing the way that Christmas seems to open people’s hearts to possibilities they might not otherwise consider.”
George raised an eyebrow, his expression amused despite his illness. “Mabel Stewart, in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never made an observation that didn’t come with a plan attached to it. So what wheels are turning in your head now?”
Mabel couldn’t help but laugh. After all these years, there was no claiming that George didn’t know her. “Well, if you must know, I’ve been thinking about Lincoln and Imogen.”
“Ah.” Vanessa looked knowingly at her. “And you’re scheming how to get them together. Look, I know there’s something there, anyone could see it, but—”
“Something there?” Mabel repeated, her voice rising with incredulity. “There’s enough electricity between those two to power the entire Christmas light display on Main Street.”
George chuckled, which thankfully didn’t trigger another coughing fit. “I take it you have a solution in mind?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Mabel scooped eggs onto a plate.
“They’re not going to do anything about it on their own, obviously.
Everyone knows they were high school sweethearts, and everyone knows they only broke up because Imogen wanted to stay and Lincoln wanted to go.
And of course it was good that they followed their minds instead of their hearts back then.
They were so young, and precious little Katie wouldn’t be here otherwise.
But they’re not as young any longer, and they have lives here now.
There’s nothing keeping them apart except fear of heartbreak. ”
“And things like the fact that Imogen does have Katie,” Vanessa pointed out. “What if Lincoln doesn’t want to be a stepfather.”
“Pssh.” Mabel waved a hand. “That man adores her. I don’t think he’d balk at that for a second. They’re just afraid of trying a second time and not having it work out again. And of change.”
“Those are valid fears,” George said, shrugging. “Maybe it’s best to leave it be.”
Vanessa added biscuits to the plates Mabel had set out, eyeing her grandmother. “So what are you thinking? Lock them in a closet together until they admit their feelings?”
“Nothing quite so dramatic,” Mabel said, although her tone suggested she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea.
“I was thinking more along the lines of a Secret Santa exchange. Maybe picking out a gift for each other would remind them how well they know each other—or need to get to know each other better all over again to know what to choose—and push them closer together.”
“Mm-hm.” George sipped his tea. “And I suppose you’d make sure they drew each other’s names?”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t leave something that important to chance,” Mabel scoffed. “We could set it up at the toy shop. Make it a community-wide thing, encourage everyone to participate. It would be perfectly natural for both Lincoln and Imogen to stop by and draw names.”
Vanessa set the plates on the dining table and put the jam out, taking a seat across from Mabel. “You know, that’s actually not a terrible idea. And it would be good for business too. People love that sort of thing during the holidays.”
“Exactly!” Mabel clapped her hands together, delighted that her granddaughter was warming to the plan. “We could make it a real event. Maybe serve hot cider and cookies, play some Christmas music. Create a festive atmosphere that puts everyone in the mood for romance.”
George reached for one of the warm biscuits, spreading it with a generous helping of strawberry preserve. He frowned slightly at Mabel, clearly not convinced. “You realize, of course, that if this backfires, you could end up ruining a perfectly good friendship.”
“Like getting together ruined ours?” she shot back. “We know better than anyone how easily years can go by without admitting that there’s something there. Do we want Imogen and Lincoln to be old and gray before they finally see what’s right in front of them?”
“Well, of course not.” George sighed. “But not everyone is us.”
“No, but sometimes people need a little push to find their way back to each other. Just like we did,” Mabel insisted.
“Well, you might be onto something,” George admitted reluctantly. “Just make sure you give them space. Don’t push too much.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mabel huffed, but she saw the way Vanessa chuckled. Everyone was on to her, but it didn’t bother her a bit. If anything, it warmed her heart that her partner and granddaughter knew her so well.
“So we’re really doing this?” Vanessa asked, picking up a piece of bacon. “The Secret Santa scheme?”
“We’re really doing this,” Mabel confirmed. “But we’ll need to be subtle about it. We can’t let on that we’re orchestrating anything, or they’ll both run in opposite directions out of sheer stubbornness.”
“Lincoln’s not stubborn,” George protested mildly. “He’s just… cautious. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart.”
“And Imogen’s been hurt before,” Vanessa added, her voice growing thoughtful. “Katie’s father left when she was just a baby. I think Imogen’s built up some pretty strong walls to protect herself and her daughter.”
“As she should,” Mabel said firmly. “But Lincoln is different. I know this is what they both need, they just need help to see it.”
“Well, there’s definitely no stopping you when you have your mind set on something,” George said with a laugh. “So we’ll just help in whatever way we can.”
“Right this second, the only person I’m worried about helping is you,” Mabel said, reaching up to touch the back of her hand to George’s forehead. “You still feel like you’re running a bit of a temperature.”
George frowned. “This flu has really knocked me flat. I can’t remember the last time I felt this bad.”
“Maybe I should call the doctor,” Mabel said worriedly. “I don’t like that you’re still so sick.”
“It’s just a flu. I’ll be fine in a day or two.” George caught her hand and squeezed it gently. “But I do appreciate having my own personal nurse.”
“Well, your personal nurse insists that you eat every bite of this breakfast and then go straight back to bed,” Mabel said firmly. “And no arguments.”
“Sure. But,” George began, setting down his mug, “there is something I need to ask you. Something I’ve been worrying about.”
The serious tone in his voice immediately caught Mabel’s attention. “What is it?”
George gestured vaguely toward the window.
“The Christmas tree farm. I hate to ask, but with this flu knocking me down, I’m going to need someone to handle things for the next few days.
Maybe longer. It’s our busiest time of the year, and I can’t afford to lose customers because I’m too sick to help them find the perfect tree.
” He chuckled wryly before smothering another cough.
“I guess I suffered from the same thing you did, not really wanting to hire help. But I haven’t really needed it before this. ”
Mabel didn’t hesitate for even a moment. “Of course I’ll help. You don’t even need to ask.”
“I just don’t want you to overwork yourself.” George frowned. “I know you have your hands full with the toy shop, even with Vanessa’s help. I feel bad asking you to take on extra work with the farm.”
“You’re not asking,” Mabel said firmly. “I’m offering.
And it won’t be a burden at all. I love helping parents find the perfect Christmas gift, and this is no different.
Helping people pick out the perfect tree will be fun.
And Vanessa knows her way around the store blindfolded by now.
I’m sure she can handle things at the toy shop a bit more for a while, until you’re back on your feet. ”
“Absolutely,” Vanessa agreed. “I can run the place whenever I need to, so Mabel can look out for the farm. We’ll make sure everything runs smoothly until you’re feeling better.”
George gave them both a rare smile. “Well, I can’t say what I did to deserve so much help, but I really appreciate the two of you. I can give you a rundown of what needs to be done at the farm—” He broke into another bout of coughing, and Mabel shook her head.
“Why don’t you just write it down for me. After you’re settled back in bed.”
“I’ll clean up,” Vanessa offered. “And then I can get to the toy store while Mabel heads over to the farm.”
“Well, that’s settled.” Mabel clapped her hands. “All right. George, let’s get you settled, and you can give me some notes on how to handle things. Vanessa, you’re sure you’ve got all of this?”
“Absolutely,” Vanessa agreed. “I’ll be ready to go when you are.”
George gave Mabel another smile as she helped him up, walking with him to the stairs. “Thank you,” he said gruffly. “For breakfast, for offering to help with the farm, for everything. I love you.”
Mabel felt her heart skip, and she smiled brightly right back at him.
“I love you too,” she said, giving him a quick kiss on the temple.
“More than I ever thought I’d love anyone again.
” Her heart swelled with gratitude for this unexpected chapter in her life as she said it, this second chance at happiness that had come when she’d least expected it.
If she and George could find their way to each other after all these years of stubbornness and missed opportunities, then surely Lincoln and Imogen could do the same, she thought.
She and Vanessa were going to see to it.