Page 49 of Christmas Cove

“Poppy, it’s America. I have a—”

“Oh, hi! I thought it might be you. Are you having a fun time on vacation, I mean, assignment?”

“No. I mean, I was. But I need your help.”

Poppy must have heard the urgency in America’s voice, and her tone dropped a whole octave. “Start at the beginning.”

America regaled her friend and coworker with the details of her trip thus far. Poppy was quiet and listened to the whole tale, which America appreciated, though she was unsure whether she was listening out of obligation as her assistant, or as a devoted friend.

“Let me get this straight,” Poppy said. “You fell in love with the mayor and then insulted his very being?”

“Seriously,” America dropped back onto the bed. “That’s what you got from all that?”

“Don’t you think it’s strange that you decided to stay in the first place? I mean, there were no Christmas festivities for you to cover. Don’t you think Mr. Janowitz would have been happy to scrap the story at that point? No one would blame you. So, whydidyou stay?”

America had to think about it. Did she stay so that she could write her first article, or was she hooked when Leo showed up at the cabin with a tree that first morning? The truth was somewhere in the middle. “I stayed to spend more time with Leo. The holiday makeover was just the excuse, I suppose.”

Butterflies swirled in her belly at having admitted it out loud. Was she falling in love with a man she had only just met? How could that be possible? One thing was sure, any feelings that he might have felt for her were gone now that she had been so cruel.

“So, what now?” Poppy asked.

Was she crying? America hadn’t realized but wiped a tear from her cheek. “The people here, Pa and Carol—”

“And the mayor?”

“Yes, Leo too. I want them to have joy again,” America said and eyed the Christmas tree sparkling out in the living area. “You know how much I love Christmas?”

“Everyone knows,” Poppy said with a giggle.

“I can’t bear knowing the namesake place has lost their Christmas spirit. I really thought I could help. But I was wrong. No trees, wreaths, or Christmas cookies alone can bring light back to the town. It was a selfish endeavor to want to make this place like it used to be, and all so I could spend time with that guy and draft the perfect article.”

“Oh, America. It’s not selfish at all,” Poppy said. “All right, a little selfish. But you deserve to be happy in life, too.”

“Janowitz says my draft is great as is and thinks I should come back to the city. Something in my gut is telling me that the story isn’t over yet, but I’m going to come home anyway. I don’t think there’s much I can do here.” With a fissure tearing through her heart, she pulled her suitcase from under the bed. “Can you see if there’s a driver, or I’d even take the train in the morn—”

“Done,” Poppy interrupted.

“What do you mean, done?”

“I have you booked on the 7:23 train out of Elizabethtown. It’ll be longer than the drive, but I will pick you up at the station before lunch, Are you certain you have no further business to take care of?”

America was absolutely in no way certain, but she was unable to see any other way forward. “Sometimes it’s better to retreat and regroup. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

CHAPTER27

America pushedher way outside of the station door where people hailed taxis and others excitedly greeted waiting family and friends. Steam filtered out from storm-grates along the curb, and the city’s distinct briny scent hit her hard after spending so many days in the clean mountain air. Poppy’s bright smile was a sight for America’s weary eyes.

Poppy threw her arms around America’s neck. “How was the trip back in? I talked to your property owner, and she said the apartment should be ready to move back into later today. So, for now, it’s just you and me and whatever you want to do to waste time.”

America could barely wrap her head around the onslaught of information and options. “My apartment? That’s good,” she said. “I hadn’t even thought about it. You really are the best.”

“I know,” Poppy said in the way that America imagined a Barbie would speak if one could. “I’ll get your bag. You get in and relax.”

Poppy flopped into the driver’s seat of the small purple hatchback and pulled out into the heavy midday traffic while honking the horn and gesturing out the window with what looked to be an extended middle finger. “So, where to?”

America bit back a giggle at seeing her assistant so animated. There was only one place America could think of going. Only one place had the resources and minds she felt she needed to put things right again. “The office.”

“Seriously? I thought you’d want to go out for a cup of coffee or those delicious pastries you always bring in to share with the staff. You know, you’re the talk of the tenth floor?”

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