Page 4 of Midnight Clear

She sighed and then looked back and forth out of habit before crossing the street. There was no car traffic in this part of Laurel Valley, but she always looked just the same.

Downtown Laurel Valley had been built in the shape of anX, and right at the apex of the X was an ice-skating rink. In the middle of the ice was a huge Christmas tree with all the trimmings. And directly across from the ice rink was The Lampstand.

A hundred and fifty years ago The Lampstand had been a bank, and it still had all the original charm. It was Bavarian in style like so much of the original architecture in Laurel Valley, and there was a beacon of light at the top, almost like a lighthouse. You could always find The Lampstand, no matter where you were.

Normally she’d stop and watch the skaters and carolers and get a cup of cider on her walk home, but she passed them by as she approached the large wooden double doors. The smell of cinnamon and spices enveloped her as she stepped into the warm lobby, and she almost groaned as she came face-to-face with Simone O’Hara. It seemed you could throw a rock and almost always hit an O’Hara in Laurel Valley.

“Sophie,” Simone said, greeting her warmly.

Simone was a stately woman, with a unique mix of Native American and European features that made her quite stunning, even though she had to be in her early sixties. She was an accomplished chef, which had put The Lampstand on the map as far as fine dining, and she and the restaurant had an impeccable reputation.

“Hi, Ms. Simone,” Sophie said. “I thought you were on a trip?”

“Just got back Sunday and couldn’t wait to get back to work,” she said, taking Sophie’s jacket and hat and hanging it on the coatrack.

Sophie subconsciously pulled at the hem of her red Reading Nook shirt, feeling underdressed standing next to Simone in a body-hugging black dress.

“Isn’t it crazy,” she said. “We work to go on vacation and then when we’re there we can’t wait to get back to work.” She chuckled companionably. “I guess it’s what I needed though because I came back with dozens of new recipes to try out, and I’m thinking about renovating and updating the main dining room.”

“Oh, wow,” Sophie said. “That will be a change. I can’t remember a time when it looked any different than it does now.”

“Which is exactly what my husband and children said when I told them,” she said, winking. “The people in Laurel Valley hate change. But the whole town looks completely different than it did ten years ago.” She sighed. “That’s progress for you. The only place to go is forward, and I’m ready to leave my mark on this place before I retire.”

Considering the fact that the O’Haras had been driving the train for all the progress that had been happening in Laurel Valley, Sophie wasn’t really sure how to respond. It was true their little town wasn’t as little as it once was, but she could give the O’Haras credit that they’d at least done a good job of controlling the growth and keeping things at a standard that made it hard for outsiders to come in and take over.

“You’re planning on retiring?” Sophie asked, shocked. “I hadn’t heard.”

“Oh,” she said, waving a hand in dismissal. “I’ve been toying with the idea for years. But I’m not ready quite yet. Come on back. Your family is already seated and cozy by the fireplace. It’s my favorite table in the restaurant.”

The tables in the main dining room were full, and there was a soft murmur of voices and the clink of glasses as people enjoyed their meals. Two sides of the dining room were windows, and it made you feel like you were in an igloo of sorts as fat snowflakes fell. A third side of the room was dominated by a large stone fireplace that was tall and wide enough for a person to step inside. The fire was roaring.

“There they are,” she said, leading Sophie toward the back. “I need to come over to the bookstore before the crowds hit. I’m a last-minute shopper.” She grinned unapologetically, and Sophie couldn’t help but smile back.

“Well, the crowds have already hit,” Sophie said. “But things aren’t too bad if you come as soon as the store opens.”

“I’ll remember that,” she said. “Have a good dinner.”

“Thanks, Ms. Simone,” Sophie said.

Sophie’s mom, aunt, and sister were waiting in the corner booth, already devouring the yeasty rolls that had been placed in front of them. Her mouth twitched as she watched her mom swallow the roll quickly before scooting out of the booth to envelop Sophie in a big hug, as if they hadn’t just seen each other the day before.

Sophie had definitely been cut from the same cloth as her mother. They had the same dark corkscrew curls that somehow managed to look unmanageable and fashionable at the same time, though her mother’s curls had streaks of silver in them. They were petite in size, barely topping a couple of inches over five feet. The only difference in their appearance was their eyes. Maggie had lovely blue eyes, whereas Sophie had brown. Her father’s eyes.

They’d always been a close-knit family, and to Maggie Jacobs, her girls were her everything. But they’d become even closer after Sophie’s father had died.

Sophie knew it couldn’t have been easy for her mother raising two teenage girls, becoming their sole provider, and ignoring the gossip surrounding her husband’s death. But she’d done it with dignity and grace, and for that, Sophie would always respect and defend her mother. She was a survivor, and Sophie didn’t think there was another person on the planet who deserved to enjoy her retirement more.

“You’re getting too thin,” Maggie said, holding Sophie by the shoulders and looking at her with a critical eye. “Working too much and eating too little.”

“’Tis the season,” Sophie said, laughing. “Hey, Aunt Lori. I love the haircut. Very stylish.”

“You think so?” Lori asked, patting the sleek blond bob. She was two years younger than her sister, the same as the age difference between Sophie and Junie. If Sophie was the spitting image of her mother, then Junie was the spitting image of Aunt Lori.

When her mother had decided to retire from the bookstore and hand over the reins to Sophie, Maggie and Lori had moved in together to help save money, and the arrangement had suited them both well.

Lori had never married and had never wanted children and she liked it that way. She was perfectly happy doting on her two nieces and then hiding away in her studio to sculpt and work her clay. Her creations were sold at both of the resorts in Laurel Valley, and the last few years she’d become quite recognized as an artist. She was flighty and forgetful and selfish, except when it came to family, and she was always the life of the party.

“Must have been a rough day,” Junie said, eyeing her sister. “You haven’t even touched a roll yet.”

---