Page 2 of Married to Her Yeti
“Speaking of parties,” Tseten said as he swirled a finger around the room. “You about wrapped up here? We just learned that the neighbor’s kid, the one scheduled to house-sit for the Blackwoods when you’re done, is home early from college and throwinga party here tonight. You should leave before they arrive.”
Nima blinked at Tseten as his news sunk in. A human party? Here? They had better not ruin his work. “I’m close but not completely finished.” Nor did he want to be rushed by human kids.Great.
“I’m not sure if he’s yeti-friendly, but most of the partygoers are not.” Tseten’s tone held a note of warning. No yeti wanted to reveal their entire race to unsuspecting humans. “Helen tried to reach the Blackwoods,” he added.
“They’re off the grid,” Nima confirmed with a sigh. “I knew they’d hired a house-sitter to keep the pipes from freezing after I left. But he wasn’t due until Christmas Eve. It’s only the twenty-second. I thought I had another day.”
“Sorry,” Tseten said. “You’re still more than welcome to crash at my place.”
Nima hadn’t decided whether he’d spend the holiday with Tseten or drive to Denali to visit his mom. Luckily, he didn’t have to decide tonight. “I appreciate that. See you in a few hours?”
Nima said his goodbyes to Tseten and Helen, then drove in the last screw, perhaps with a little more force than was necessary. His time in Wildwood was up. No more excuses. Hehadto reach outto Mari. But was he finally brave enough to go through with it?
Soft notesof holiday instrumentals drifted into the Wildwood Bakery’s temporarily closed dining area. Mari scanned the paperwork before her as she rested her elbows on a worn table. Who knew a sales contract would elicit so much emotion? Nerves, excitement, and anticipation tumbled around her belly like tennis balls in a dryer.
Helen, her friend and attorney, flipped to the signature page of the contract. “You’ll need to sign here, here...” Her finger slid to a blank line at the bottom of the sheet. “And here. Then you’ll be the owner of the best bakery in the state of Alaska.” She handed Mari a pen and grinned.
This is happening!Only three more signatures and Mari would own a bakery. A dream come true.
“Okay,” she said, the muscles in her jaw aching from smiling too much. For years, she’d been saving for a down payment on a house. But what did she need a big house for? Her heart seemed forever broken, thanks to her ex, Nima. She’d resigned herself to permanent singlehood and needed nothingmore than her snug one-bedroom cabin gifted to her from her grandparents. By signing this form, she’d commit to investing her savings in the iconic bakery.
Her stomach shimmied again as she took the biggest—no, strike that—second biggest step in her life. Mari’s secret wedding to Nima, her furry childhood sweetheart, had by far been the biggest event of her thirty-two years. But that undertaking had spectacularly flopped on day one of their marriage when he’d left her in the Nevadan desert during Burning Man. Mari was determined to makethisventure a success. She quickly penned her signature in all the marked locations.
Helen beamed. “Congratulations, you own a bakery!”
No fucking way!
“Oh my god... I can’t hardly believe it.” Mari tried to keep her cool, but her trembling hands betrayed her emotions as she steepled them over her mouth. Her life was back on track—it’d only taken her a decade.Yeesh.
“Thank you for all your help with this contract,” Mari said, trying to dab casually at a tear when her phone buzzed with an incoming video call. She glanced at the screen. “It’s my parents and sister. They’re in Hawaii for Christmas.” A trip Maricouldn’t go on, not with the impending purchase. “Do you mind if I take it?”
Helen shook her head. “Of course not. Do you want me to give you some privacy?”
“No, I’m sure they’d love to say hello.” Mari accepted the call, then waved at her screen. “Hi. Helen’s here with me,” she said, balancing her phone against a flower vase so they were both on camera. Her mom and dad sat on a lanai with dark-green tropical foliage behind them. Everyone said hello as Mari scooped up her contract. “Guess who’s the new owner of Wildwood Bakery?” She held up her signed paperwork.
Cheers went up on the other end of the line, and her sister Kat stepped into view. “Congratulations, Mari. Does this mean the sourdough cinnamon rolls are now free for family?”
“Only if you volunteer to roll dough in my kitchen,” Mari countered with a good-natured smirk.
Her dad chimed in. “A hot cup of coffee and one of those cinnamon rolls is perfection.” He also liked mass-produced, prepackaged doughnuts and pastries—his palate was not so discerning—but she’d take the compliment.
“What are you doing to celebrate tonight, sweetheart?” her mother asked.
Before Mari could answer, the table and chairs shook, and the bright, multi-colored holiday lights rhythmically tapped against the bakery’s frosted windows. “Another minor earthquake,” she announced.
Her mother blew out a breath. “I’m glad to have a break from those. We haven’t felt any in Hawaii.” The Alaska Earthquake Center had warned that the current uptick in seismicity might be foreshocks to an impending larger earthquake. But Mari wasn’t worried. The area had seen sizable quakes before, and she had emergency supplies ready for a handful of potential natural disasters.
Mari circled back to answering her mother’s question. “After this I plan to go home, put on my fleece pajamas, make a giant bowl of popcorn, and finally watchThe Gingerbread Soldier’s Christmas Crush.” Truly, there was nothing she wanted more than relaxing with a feel-good holiday flick.
“Where do they come up with these titles and premises?” Kat asked, clearly not expecting an answer.
Their mother swatted at her playfully. “Don’t pick on your sister’s tastes. It’s a very sweet movie. I’ve watched it twice.” She turned back to the camera. “And when’s the grand reopening?”
Mari planned minor updates to the bakery menu and the building, small touches that would make the shop her own. “No set date yet, but by February first. Several employees are college students, and they won’t return until late January, when classes start.”
Plus, she had the opportunity to hire new staff and wanted to seek yeti-friendly folks. She’d love forallher friends to be welcome in the kitchen. While many people in Wildwood knew about yeti, like her family, most didn’t. Those in on the secret held it close. No one wanted the government showing up to poke and prod their furry neighbors and loved ones.
“We should run,” Mari’s dad said, looking at his watch. “We’ve booked a lu?au tonight.” A pang of longing hit Mari. For a moment she wished she could trade her winter layers for a pair of shorts and join her family. What better day than December twenty-second—winter solstice, the day with the fewest daylight hours in the northern hemisphere—to be in tropical Hawaii? But she had a hot date with the fictitious gingerbread soldier to look forward to.
