Page 7 of Christmas in Watch Hill
“Outside of Dayton. Most of my family is still there. I’m the only one who moved away.”
“That’s not far. Probably good to have them around since . . . well, since . . .”Since your wife died.I faltered, catching myself before I said it. Talking about his wife was probably the last thing that he wanted to do. “Since this time of year can be tough on a lot of people.”
“Yes.” Scott downed the last of his beer and placed the empty glass on the modular bar. “What about you? I’m guessing by your comment the store keeps you busy.”
“It does, and things like this do, too,” I replied, and it sounded like the right thing to say. A moment later, the spectators broke out into applause, signaling the end of the fashion show, and my shoulders relaxed. “I hate to end this conversation, but I need to pack up and get out of here. Tara, my lone employee, is monitoring the store for me, and I want to get back before I have to pay her for another hour.”
“I’ll let you go, then.” He flashed me another grin, one that sent an almost unfamiliar mix of delicious anticipation racing through my veins. The more I was around Scott, the more I found myself liking him. Still, I had no time for this. No time at all. Not with the store, the rent I still had to find a way to generate, and the hectic headiness of the holidays themselves . . .
“Bye,” I added, then slipped away right after he said goodbye, too.
But twenty minutes later, with my car loaded up and the store in my sights, my cheeks were still flushed.
FIVE
NORA
“How was the fashionshow?” Tara asked when I walked through the front door of The Pink Box. She stood next to the cash register, folding red and navy cashmere sweaters.
“It was good.” I hung my coat and scarf on the hook just to the side of the checkout area. “Tiring, but good. Hopefully, some of the people who attended will stop by the store, since their gift bags included those fifty-percent-off-one-item coupons they have to use before January first.”
“I hope so, too.” Tara folded the last item and gave the stack a satisfied survey. She had an eye for detail and precision. I admired those qualities about her, marveling as well that she’d bothered to work part-time at The Pink Box since I was twelve. My mother often said she couldn’t make it in business without Tara. “These are all ready for that front table.”
“Thanks, I’ll set them out in a little bit. Did anyone come in while I was gone?”
“Only one person, and they bought a clutch.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I even put the welcome sign out on the sidewalk, hoping that would get more people to come in as they did their last minute holiday shopping. This weekend is usually so busy for shoppers.”
“Hard to believe that Christmas is almost here.”
“Yep.” My helper picked up a few of the fluffy sweaters. They reminded me of cotton candy, and I remembered how much I’d liked their soft knit on my New York City buying trip earlier that year.Maybe people will decide they want these in January. Maybe.“It always seems like this part of December moves so fast.”
I followed Tara’s lead, then walked over to the empty center table. As we fanned the sweaters out around the small Christmas trees, I trained my gaze on the classic painting of water lilies Mom had placed on the wall when I was sixteen.I miss you, Mom. I wouldn’t ever change the look of the store completely—not when she’d spent so long perfecting it. But I did switch up minor details every now and then to keep things feeling fresh.
Tara and I had already talked about how I wanted this area of the store to look, and it didn’t take long before the sweaters looked like the spokes of a wheel, fanning out from a small, artificial Christmas tree I’d set in the center of the table.
“This looks fantastic,” Tara said. “I like it a lot.”
