Page 21 of The Christmas Cottage
She hesitated. She’d been Mrs. Claus every year for a long time, to the point where it just felt like it was hers. She didn’t want to give it up, even for a year. But she didn’t see herself being able to play the part as well as she always had, greeting the children, handing out cookies, taking letters for Santa. Not with her wrist needing so much rest and plaguing her whenever she overtaxed it even slightly.
She turned to Vanessa, who was nibbling at a cookie. “As much as I want to be Mrs. Claus this year, like I usually do… I don’t think I can do it,” Mabel admitted. Even she could hear the disappointment in her own voice. “I think it’s just going to be too much. Look at today. Just getting out decorations and things for the party made me need to sit down and take a break.”
“You need to be careful,” Vanessa agreed. She glanced at Mabel’s wrist brace, frowning slightly. “Have you had a follow-up checkup at the clinic?”
“I will in a couple of days.” Mabel wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. She felt sure that Dr. Ellis would be able to tell that she’d been doing the opposite of resting. He’d probably already been told anyway.
“How did you hurt it again?” Vanessa pursed her lips, looking confused, and Mabel hesitated. She didn’t like fibbing to her granddaughter, but she also wasn’t about to ‘fess up to the actual reason it was hurt. She’d never live it down.
“It’s silly.” She waved her good hand, shaking her head. “I just twisted it picking up a box that was too heavy, that’s all. I should have been more careful. And now look at me. Stuck on the sidelines this year while someone else plays Mrs. Claus for the big event.”
Vanessa frowned. “I thought you told George you were reaching for something and it twisted when the box slipped?”
Mabel tried to hide her wince. “Y-yes. I was getting a box down. It was when I picked it up off the shelf that my wrist was actually hurt. The whole thing was just a mess. I should have asked for help. But you know me, it’s so hard for me to admit when I need it?—”
She trailed off, searching for a way to change the subject. Vanessa was looking at her quizzically, and she could tell that her story hadn’t been quite as convincing as she’d hoped it would be.
“I’m going to have to tell George we need to find another Mrs. Claus,” she said, quickly veering back to the topic of the party. Vanessa nodded.
“Surely there are plenty of people who would have fun with it,” she said and Mabel nodded too, letting out a small sigh.
“Of course,” she said, and she was sure Vanessa was right. But she couldn’t help feeling sad that she was going to have to bow out.
She’d never admit it to anyone, but she’d been looking forward to getting to spend more time with George.
CHAPTER TWELVE
For the first time that she could remember, Vanessa had a slow, lazy Sunday morning.
It was startling, really. Her Sunday mornings back home in San Francisco usually consisted of getting breakfast out, then going to the coffee shop she’d mentioned to Jackson for coffee and to work.
She’d always work through as much as she could, hit the gym, and then head back home… sometimes just to eat and get back on her laptop to work through more tasks before bed. It had been that way since she’d started her job, and she’d gotten into such a routine with it, so comfortable in the way it kept her busy and focused, out of her own head, that it had stayed that way.
Even in college, before the accident, she’d rarely slowed down. Weekends were for studying, homework, applying for internships. She couldn’t recall ever having done what she did that morning—which was sleep in until the shocking hour ofninein the morning there in Fir Tree Grove, which was six back home.
A full hour’s extra sleep, and then she’d gone downstairs, telling Christopher that she was going to head to the diner for breakfast instead. He’d told her to enjoy, with an odd twinkle inhis eye and a grin, which had confused Vanessa. But everyone in the town seemed to have a sort of secret mischief about them, a constant cheer that she was unused to, so she chalked it up to that.
She’dalmosttalked herself into the pumpkin French toast at the diner, but had opted for a vegetarian omelet instead, with local Cheddar cheese and a side of salsa. Jackson had made her the coffee with eggnog creamer again, before having to dash off to help customers during the breakfast rush, and she’d found herself wishing that he’d been able to hang around and chat for longer.
Which was ridiculous. Shelikedpeace and quiet in the mornings. The chatter and noise and constant Christmas music in the diner alone should have been grating to her, like that kind of thing always was. She relied on her noise-canceling earbuds and a stream of white noise from her music app wherever she went, and whenever she worked away from her office or home. But the sounds of the diner didn’t grate on her at all, and neither did the music.
It felt cheerful. Homey.
And although it was ridiculous too, she couldn’t help but watch Jackson as she sipped her coffee and nibbled at the incredibly delicious omelet, enjoying the sight of the rugged diner owner taking down breakfast orders and making kitchen runs. It didn’t hurt to look, she told herself, and he was definitely easy on the eyes.
When her leisurely breakfast was over, she got another cup of coffee to-go and decided to go for a walk through town. She needed to pick up a few more things, now that she had decided to stay in town longer, and despite the cold it was a beautiful, sunny day outside. The toy shop was closed for the day—the only day of the week it closed—and Vanessa had nothing waiting for her other than the things she needed to look over for Russell.
Normally, she would have gone straight back to clear it all out. Normally, she wouldn’t even have done anything else with her day until those tasks were finished, eating at her desk and burning through them all as efficiently as possible. But for the first time, she found that she was hesitant to spend a beautiful Sunday afternoon chained to her laptop.
Instead, she shrugged her coat back on at the door of the diner, tugged on her gloves, and headed back out into the cold to take the long way to the Holly and Ivy Market.
Her boots clicked against the snowy cobblestones as she walked past the stores, every one of them festive and full of holiday cheer. Imogen’s shop had the door propped open despite the cold, and Vanessa caught a glimpse of Katie sitting on a stool near the sample table, a mug of what was probably hot cocoa clasped between two small hands. The general store was hung with wreaths on every window, a large chalkboard sign hanging next to the door that had the day’s sales written on it in red and green curling script, Christmas-y designs of gingerbread men and holiday pies and Christmas trees drawn alongside.
Instead of walking as quickly as possible to her destination, like she usually would, Vanessa found herself slowing down, taking in the displays. It was all still an overwhelming amount of Christmas spirit, she told herself, but taken individually, the decorations were really quite beautiful. Jackson’s decorations at the diner were the most over-the-top, of course, but the more she talked to him, the more that didn’t surprise her at all.
She paused at Cheerful Chapters, looking at the holiday-themed book displays in the windows, nestled in tufts of ‘snow’ made out of white fluff with red velvet backdrops. One of the books’ covers caught her eye, and she decided to go in and browse for a moment. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d really read and enjoyed a book. She had a novel sitting next to her bedside at home,but she barely remembered what it was about. She usually read a page or two when she slipped into bed, and then almost immediately fell asleep.
Since she was trying new things, she thought, a book to enjoy by the fireplace in her bedroom at the bed and breakfast might be nice. She went over to the display, picking it up and scanning the blurb on the back cover.
