Page 15 of Mistletoe Misses
“Happy Saturday, Maddox,” the barista says the second the door closes. “I heard you were back in town.”
Already? News travels—Wait. Is she … “Addie Harding? Is that you?”
She smiles in response, reminding me of the little girl I remember from Aaron’s birthday parties and games. She seemed to be a good friend to him and balanced his ever-present energy. They liked a lot of the same things, including baseball, and played on the same Little League team until she switched to softball in middle school.
“I haven’t seen you since you were eight or nine years old. You’re all grown up.”
She tightens the loose ponytail on top of her head, her rich chocolate eye showing her amusement before her lips. “That’s what happens when you skip town for a while,” she teases. “How long are you here for?”
“Not sure.”
“You’re living in Boston, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“Cool. The girls and I are thinking about taking a trip there for my twenty-first birthday in a few months. I hope you’ll stay for the Spectacular,” she says, switching topics too fast and almost giving me whiplash.
Stay. The vein in my neck throbs like my system is gearing up to do the opposite. That motor hasn’t taken a break since I arrived in Ember Falls.
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” I say to keep my feet from taking me away without warning.
“Maybe I can convince you to stay longer with some yummy coffee and treats. I guarantee it will be better than anything you’ve had in Boston,” she challenges.
“I live on coffee most shifts, so I—”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a cop.”
She leans on the top of the register, eager to re-energize our conversation. “Is that what you’ve been doing since you left?”
“No. I also served in the Army.”
“That’s amazing. The Spectacular holds an appreciation dinner for active military and veterans on Christmas Eve. You should go.”
I doubt I’ll be here then. “I’m not that big on socializing.”
“You’re socializing with me. See? It’s not so bad.” She giggles before resuming barista mode. “What can I get ya?”
“Just two black coffees and two blueberry muffins.”
She doesn’t move to enter my order and stares at me like I spoke an unknown language. “That’s so … generic,” she accuses, her brow scrunching in the middle in disapproval. “How can I convince you to stay if you don’t try one of our specialties? How about a peppermint latte and a slice of wild berry pie instead?”
“Taking my Nana, Ember Falls’ reigning pie-baking champion, a slice from the competitor will get my head chopped off and baked into a pie. Maybe next time when she’s not looking,” I promise, and her smile returns.
“Okay. So long as there’s a next time. Don’t go running off again without saying goodbye.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, nor can I promise I won’t, and I’m grateful for the save my vibrating phone provides. After handing her my debit card, I step away to check the text.
Aaron:Dude! I can’t believe you’re in town. You’re going to stay until I get there, right?
Me:Of course. When do your classes end?
Aaron:Next week. I’ll be back in time for the Spectacular.
Me:Kendall riding with you?
Aaron:Yeah. If she can pull herself out of the library. She’s crushin on some guy working there. [Eye roll emoji] Dude’s not even in the ballpark good enough for her, and he’s old.
