Page 10 of Jam and Jingle Bells
It was my turn to laugh with abandon. “She’s wonderful under all of that bluster and authority. She’s sweet and loving, and probably the biggest supporter of the community events but she definitely wants to know everything about everyone. Today, she actually asked me if Heather and I were a couple.” I started giggle-snorting again and a smile grew on his face at the sound.
“Like, as in …”
“Yeah, as in a couple-couple.” I nodded, wiggling my brows.
He held up his hands. “Nothing wrong with that.”
I grinned and shook my head. “Nope, not a thing. I’m laughing because Audrey is always coming up with creative ways to ask me about my personal life without actually asking about my personal life. She’s known me for years and is well aware of who I’ve dated.”
“Why does she keep asking then?” he asked curiously.
“Probably because I don’t have a personal life, but she’s convinced I should.”
His eyes clouded over for a moment. “I’m sorry, but if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have one either.”
I gave him a fist bump. “Solidarity in solitary, right? I’ll see you at Stan’s in a few?” I raised a brow and took a step back toward my car.
“I’ll see you there,” he promised, walking me to the car and opening my door for me. I’d never spent time with a guy who opened your door for you like a gentleman. I could get used to it.
Friends, Addie, I reminded myself.
“Thanks.” I grinned, lowering myself to the driver’s seat and grabbing the door handle.
“See you,” he said, holding up his hand, his fleece-lined denim coat sleeve dwarfing his thin wrist.
I closed the door and started the car while he walked back to his truck. As I pulled away, I couldn’t help but wish we could be more than friends.
Dinner was winding down and we were ready to eat pie for the second time today. Instead of pumpkin, it was apple, but pie is pie in my opinion. Stan always cooks a less than traditional meal for Thanksgiving. His wife, Mason’s mom, left them on Thanksgiving while he was cooking the turkey many years ago. While she wasn’t in her right mind from cancer, he still can’t stand the sight of a Thanksgiving turkey. Instead, he makes a mean pot roast with all the trimmings. He taught Mason everything he knew about cooking, and that spurred Mason’s desire to be a chef. Mason could be an executive chef at any five-star restaurant he wanted, but he didn’t want to work in the city. He loved Bells Pass and while he knew he was good, he never felt the need to prove it. He offered the townspeople healthy, homemade food with fresh ingredients as any top-notch chef would, but in a setting that made him, and us, happy.
I took a bite of my mom’s caramel apple pie, but my heart wasn’t in it. I sat alone since my invited guest didn’t show like he promised he would. I made an excuse halfway through dinner, and thankfully, no one thought much of it nor asked too many questions.
What did you expect was going to happen, Addie?I asked myself, rolling my eyes internally.You invited him to a dinner where he doesn’t know anyone but you. Not to mention your mom is here, for heaven’s sake.
“Son, have you set a date yet?” Stan asked Mason who had his arm around Melissa.
Mason and Melissa looked at each other and Holly giggled. “You always ask that, Grandpa Stan.” She shook her head. “You’re silly.”
He shook his fork at the little girl. “I keep asking in case someday they decide to answer.”
“They haven’t even been engaged a year,” I said in exasperation.
Mason pointed his fork at me. “She’s right, it hasn’t even been a year.”
“Maybe not, but you were friends for years before you got engaged,” Stan reminded him. “Like four whole years.” He shook his head as if his son was an absolute idiot for waiting so long.
Melissa started to giggle and held up her hand. “Okay, okay, we’ve set a date.”
My mom dropped her fork and leaned forward over her pie. “You have? When? June?”
Melissa and Mason eyed each other and shook their heads. “No, not June.”
“December ninth,” Holly whispered, her hands clasped in front of her.
Everyone sat in silence until I finally spoke. “December ninth? That’s only two weeks away.”
Melissa nodded and glanced at Mason who cleared his throat. “We know, but we don’t want a big wedding. It’s going to be at the courthouse. We actually planned to tell everyone after dinner.”
“The courthouse?” Stan asked, a bit of disapproval in his tone. “You could give the girl a real wedding, son.”
