Page 1 of Christmas in Watch Hill
ALL I WANT
A WATCH HILL HOLIDAY NOVELLA
ONE
NORA SHAW
The notice came fivedays before Christmas. It sat in my email inbox for a few hours before I noticed the alert on my phone while ringing up a smocked dress and matching black shoes for Allison Peters. When I glanced at the subject line on the locked phone screen, my stomach sank.Oh, God. What now?
“Would you like this gift-wrapped?” I managed, focusing on my customer once again. She was one of my most loyal customers at The Pink Box. I needed this sale to go well. “I have a few beautiful boxes in the stockroom.”
“No, don’t worry about that. I’m going to put these with a few other things for Hannah’s stocking.”
“She will love that.” I placed Allison’s purchases in a bag with the bold, scripty logo across the front.
Allison smiled at me under a set of thick tortoiseshell glasses as she took the purchases from me. “Can’t wait to see the look on her face when she opens them Christmas morning.”
“I saw Hannah the other day at the library.” I smiled too, but my mind whirred.Come on, Allison. It’s time to go.I had to read that email. “She’s getting so big.”
“Four years old already.” Allison pulled her puffy jacket closer to her body. “Can’t believe she will be going to school soon.”
“They grow fast.”
“Just wait until you have kids. You really won’t believe it until then.”
“I’m sure I won’t.” I pushed away the slight sting of the comment. No, I didn’t have kids yet, even though I wanted them. No, I didn’t have a husband either, despite wanting that, too. And yes, the clock for all of that ticked louder with each passing month. “I hope you have a Merry Christmas.”
We said goodbye, and Allison sauntered out of the store. Barely another breath passed before I opened my email. If I read it quickly and soberly, maybe the contents wouldn’t be so bad.Maybe . . .
Four small paragraphs awaited my eyes.
They took maybe a half minute to read. Still, I read them again. Then again. And finally, one more time.Of course. Perfect timing.It wasn’t enough for the whole year to have been a wash. Now, my landlord wanted an additional two hundred bucks a month to renew my lease.
Two hundred bucks I don’t have.
Frustrated, I walked away from the cash register and paced the store. Women’s and children’s designer clothing taunted me from every corner. Here it was, already the end of December, and I still had too much merchandise in the store. Come January, I would have to put most of it on sale and hope people would somehow find their way to my business.
But if the past years were prologues, they likely wouldn’t.
Managing the store these last few years had been disastrous. Nuclear, even. One failure after another, and a quick glance at the receipts proved that. I didn’t have a head for business. I knew that without a doubt, no matter how many smiles I gave customers and how many sales I ran. I wasn’t good at this at all—
Not nearly as good as my mother.
I braced myself against a nearby metal rack. It still hurt to think about my parents, still hurt to dwell even for a moment on the sadness that had marked the start of this journey. If the car accident that killed them hadn’t happened, they’d still be running the store, and I’d still work as a photographer in New York City. If the car accident hadn’t happened, we’d make plans for Christmas dinner. And if the car accident hadn’t happened, we’d all be happy together.
“I hate the holidays,” I muttered, pushing the quiver from my voice. “Hate them.”
I looked at my watch. It was just before three. Already Perked would still be open, and I could think of nothing more comforting than one of their warm, extra-large, dark chocolate mocha drinks. That would at least help me feel better in the short term while I figured out what to do next. I had decisions to make, but they would come easier once I held a fancy drink in my hand.
I rushed back to the checkout counter, grabbed my coat from the hook on the wall, took my purse from the cubby underneath, and shoved my fingerless knit gloves onto my hands. I could easily leave the store locked up for a few minutes, even during this holiday season. Who was I kidding?It’s not like I have a lot of customers anyway.Already Perked Coffee and Café was just across the shopping center from The Pink Box, and I breezed through the entrance a few seconds before one of the baristas turned the open sign to closed.
“Whew, just made it,” I said to Jessica as I approached the cash register, my cheeks stinging from the short run in the mid-December weather. “Busy day?”
“Decent.” Jessica tossed me a knowing grin. “Shall I get you the usual?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said on a hard breath. “I am really looking forward to one of your mocha creations. Exactly what I need right now.”
“I can imagine.” Jessica set about fixing my drink behind the espresso machine. It only took her a few moments, and soon, she handed it over. “It’s on the house, okay?”
