Chapter 3
Chapter Three
ASHLEY
Iexit The North Star Market and smile at the abundance of Christmas decorations up and down the town’s streets as I always do.
Dusk is approaching, so the lights glow and glisten in the crisp night air.
If it were snowing, I’d feel as if I’m in the middle of a snow globe, just as I did the first snowfall after I moved to Mistletoe Falls.
I love all holidays, but Christmas especially. It’s my favorite time of the year, which was a plus when I decided to move here. Our town might be small, but there’s a reason we’re such a big attraction in Vermont at Christmas time. We know how to do it right.
The sidewalk is bustling, since it’s the middle of Santa Fest. No complaints from me, since I’m sold out from not only the Santas arriving in town, but the tourists who flock here to cheer them on.
I bump into an attractive man who’s maybe a couple of years younger than me. We both mumble apologies and try to step around each other, but we turn in the same direction and our shoulders bump into one another again.
“Sorry.” My cheeks heat in embarrassment.
He looks at me and smiles, then he stills, his head tilting and his finger pointing as if he knows me. I know what he’s going to ask before the words leave his mouth. “Aren’t you that girl from the Shelter Bay show?”
I smile at the man, though I’m sure it’s more of a cringe.
Being an identical twin, this certainly isn’t the first time I’ve been mistaken for my sister.
But now that my sister is a rising star on the television show Shelter Bay, this exchange happens more and more often.
She plays the role of Iris, the small-town shop owner and plucky best friend to one of the main characters, but she’s told me in confidence that next season, she’ll be a main character herself.
They’re setting up her character to be the love interest of her best friend’s older brother.
Meaning these little conversations will start happening all the time.
I don’t mind them necessarily, and I’m so happy for my sister’s success.
But when you’re a twin, especially an identical twin, it isn’t easy to carve out a place for yourself and have the world see you as two separate people with different personalities.
It seems the universe wants to press on that wound a little more now.
“No, that’s not me.” I grip the grocery bag tighter.
“It’s you, I know it’s you. My girlfriend watches that show every week.”
I give him a wan smile. “It’s my twin sister, not me.”
He frowns. “You don’t have to lie to me. I wasn’t going to ask for a picture or anything.” He pushes past me, his shoulder purposefully knocking into me this time. “It’s not even that good of a show,” he mumbles.
I inhale a big breath and continue to my truck, reminding myself that while I love the holidays, many people find them a stressful, difficult time. Perhaps that jerk is one of them. I hope my sister doesn’t get attacked by cyber bullies from any of these exchanges.
I start my truck and turn up the volume on the radio as I pull out of my spot and head home.
I only play the holiday station during this time of year, and one of my favorite songs, “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree,” is playing.
I push that guy from my head and sing along in my off-tune voice until I pull past the sign at the end of the driveway that reads, “Silver Bells B&B.”
My pride and joy. I bought the business almost three years ago as a thirtieth birthday gift to myself.
I went to school for hospitality and, after a decade of working for other people, I decided to work for myself.
I’d always imagined running my own bed-and-breakfast, and when I stumbled upon the listing for this place because the owner was retiring, it felt like kismet.
It took me a while to rehab it and decorate it the way I wanted. Now it’s complete, and I’m living my dream job. So I can’t explain why I feel something is lacking. Maybe because all of those side jobs, that to-do list, is all crossed off, and I’m overthinking my life.
If only I couldn’t hear my sister’s voice telling me that a man is what’s missing in my life.
The thought of my sister makes me frown.
She was supposed to arrive a couple of hours ago but never showed up.
I tried calling her and her fiancé, Doug, but neither of them picked up.
I never asked for her flight information, something I’m kicking myself for now.
I’m sure her flight was delayed, but it’s not like her to not let me know—at least with a text.
I grab my bag from the back seat of the truck and head to the house, kicking the snow off my boots before stepping inside. I don’t bother removing my coat or hat on my way to the back of the house, where the kitchen is.
I’m not surprised to find Santa Claus sitting at the kitchen table.
“You’re a little early for dinner, Nick.”
It’s not his real name. But it didn’t take me long that first year of Santa Fest to figure out that the participants prefer to be called by whatever moniker they adopt.
Presently, I have Nick, Nicholas, Kris, Mr. Kringle, and Mr. Claus staying with me. At least they’re all different this year. Last year, I had three Nicks. When one of them would ask for something to be passed down at the dinner table, no one knew which Nick was asking.
He chuckles. An honest full-bellied Santa chuckle. Which spurs my laughter.
“I’m hiding from Mr. Kringle. He’s such a blowhard. He keeps going on and on about how he’s got the reindeer race in the bag.” Nick shakes his head.
“Has he ever won previously?” I ask, setting my bag on the other end of the table and taking out the baking supplies for the pie contest, as well as some items for tonight’s dinner.
“Not once. He usually comes in last.”
A small laugh escapes me. I can’t take sides when they’re both my guests, so I change the subject. “Well, I’m making us a hearty stew for dinner, and I made some fresh bread earlier today. If you want, I can bring your dinner up to your room rather than you eating in the dining room with him.”
He waves me off. “I’ll be fine by dinner. I just needed a minute to myself.” He pushes the chair back and stands. “Anything I can help you with?” Nick inspects the groceries splayed over the table.
“I appreciate it every time you ask, Nick, but you’re my guest, remember?” I chuckle and bring the carrots over to the sink to wash and peel them.
“It’s gotta be a lot of work to take care of everyone. I don’t mind helping.”
I glance over my shoulder and smile. Nick has grandpa energy, and he’s stayed with me every year since I took over Silver Bells, so I have a bit of a soft spot for him.
“It’s what I love doing though, so it doesn’t feel so much like work. You relax, and don’t let Mr. Kringle get under your skin. Just show him who’s boss at that race.” I wink.
Nick sets his hands on his protruding belly and laughs. “Fair enough. Think maybe I should work on my Christmas spirit?”
“You have more than enough. We all reach our limit sometimes.”
Giving him advice makes Carter Russell’s face float into my head.
Ugh. My sister’s best friend is arriving today, according to the last time I talked with her.
His presence shouldn’t matter to me. We’re not sworn enemies or anything, but our last interaction couldn’t have ended worse, and truth be told, I’m a little embarrassed by my reaction.
It might have been a little over the top, but my emotions got the best of me.
Ever since my sister told me she wanted her wedding to be held at Silver Bells and Carter would be standing up in it, I’ve vowed to keep my tongue-lashing toward him in check for the sake of my sister. I won’t ruin my sister’s wedding, and hopefully, Carter will agree.
“If you change your mind and need help with anything, let me know,” Nick says, leaving.
I swing the door of the fridge open and grab the stewing roast. “Shoot.” It seems like I have more immediate problems than Carter.