Page 14 of The Christmas Cottage
She took the box of chocolates, turning to head back out of the shop. Just as she was about to step out onto the sidewalk, she very nearly ran smack into a blue-and-black plaid shirt, one that smelled distractingly of coffee and pumpkin spice.
“Jackson!” She gasped, taking a step back before they collided with one another on the steps of the shop. “Hi there.”
His cheeks instantly colored, and he cleared his throat, his expression a bit flustered. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Vanessa narrowed her eyes slightly. He clearly was trying to play it off as if he hadn’t expected to see her, but she wasn’t entirely buying it. It wasn’t very convincing, and she had a feeling that he had, in fact, been trying to bump into her.
“I was just stopping by for a little treat. And to get something for my grandmother.” She held up the box of chocolates. “The maple fudge is amazing.”
“So I’ve heard.” Jackson’s cheeks were still red, and Vanessa started to dart around him.
“Anyway, I should be getting back to the shop. Have a nice day!”
“Actually—” Jackson’s hurried tone stopped her before she could start down the sidewalk. “I saw you came into the diner earlier for coffee. But I thought maybe you could use another pick-me-up,” he added, rushing on as he held out a travel mug toward her. It didn’t look like the other diner cups. It was insulated metal, with a buffalo plaid motif.
Vanessa looked at it, confused. “Isn’t that yours?”
“Haven’t touched it,” he assured her. “Coffee with three pumpkin spice creamers, just like you got this morning. Just come return the mug when you’re done.”
Vanessa fought back a smile. It was a sweet gesture, if a little… odd. She couldn’t help feeling like it was a ploy to see her again.
Jackson thrust it toward her. “I’m sure you’ll have enough time to return it before you leave town, yeah?”
“I’m planning on leaving Friday morning. My flight goes out early—a red eye.” She took the travel mug from his hands, feeling the heat from it sink through her gloves. “But I’ll return the mug before then. Thank you.”
She saw the disappointment flash across his face the moment she said she was leaving Friday morning. Her heart tripped a little in her chest as she caught it, because she couldn’t recall anyone ever looking at her like that before. Like they really, really wanted her to stick around, and were sad that she wasn’t going to.
Even Russell just looked annoyed when she said she was going somewhere. She’d started eating lunch at her desk years ago, just to avoid that look.
She glanced back into the shop, and saw Imogen straightening the table of samples, her gaze flicking between them. There was a knowing expression on Imogen’s face, and Vanessa felt herself blush.
“Thanks,” she repeated, holding up the coffee mug. “I’ll see you around.”
And then, before Jackson could say anything else, she took off as fast as her high-heeled boots would carry her, back toward the toy store.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A knock at the door startled Mabel as she was setting the table for dinner, and she straightened, quickly heading to the front of the house. A young woman was standing outside with a paper bag in her hand, holding it out with a smile on her face.
“Delivery from Maplewood Tavern?”
“Yes, thank you!” Mabel took the bag, exchanging it for a ten-dollar bill that she pressed into the woman’s palm for a tip. She closed the door quickly before too much of the cold could get in, carrying the bag back to the kitchen to finish setting up for dinner. Vanessa would be over soon, and she wanted to have everything just right.
She wished she could make a home-cooked meal for her. There were plenty of favorites she’d mastered over the years that she would have whipped up if she could. A roast chicken with lemon and onions maybe, and mashed potatoes for a side with green beans canned from the garden in the summer and crusty bread. Or a ham, sage, and winter squash casserole. Her lamb stew was always a hit with anyone who came over for wintry dinners too.
But with her wrist the way it was, there was no way she was going to be able to make a full dinner. She’d mostly been relyingon takeout for herself since she’d sprained it, or easy things to make like sandwiches, or soup, or mac & cheese. But she wanted to serve something better than that for her granddaughter.
So she’d ordered the meatloaf special from the tavern for the evening, complete with sides of garlic mashed potatoes and baked squash. She had a nice bottle of pinot noir too, and she uncorked it, pouring a glass for each of them as she put out the china plates hand painted with sunflowers that Vanessa had always loved as a child. As she set the table, she wondered if Vanessa would remember them.
She didn’t seem to remember much about her life in Fir Tree Grove. Mabel wasn’t even sure if she wanted to. But she was determined to try to remind Vanessa, in the short amount of time she had, the things about the place that she’d once loved as a child. Maybe then, Vanessa would come back more than once every twenty years or so to visit.
There was another knock at the door, lighter this time, and Mabel was fairly sure it was her granddaughter.
“Come in!” she called out, putting the takeout in the center of the table and trying to arrange it in a way that looked nice.
She poked her head out of the kitchen just in time to see Vanessa standing in the entryway, taking off her high-heeled boots and that coat that didn’t look like it could actually keep anyone warm.
“It smells wonderful,” Vanessa said as she walked in. She was wearing a soft-looking dove-gray sweater and a pair of dark jeans, her auburn hair tossed up in a messy bun on top of her head. “Is that meatloaf?”
