Page 119 of The Blessings of Christmas
Adrenaline surged through her. She began rearranging trays and scooping salads with the big metal serving spoons. Victoria could imagine her dear uncle opening a tiny box where a ginormous diamond sat on dark velvet, only to be rejected. He’dbe crushed. Victoria gripped the edge of the counter. She should speak up. Go through her uncle’s many good qualities.
After all, at their house her own mother didn't lift a hand. Maribelle did most of the cooking and had a cleaning crew come in every week. Victoria had taken all that for granted. Miss Charlotte was making Victoria see wifely duties in a different light.
Although Melinda Sue and Genevieve went back to their shrimp salad and flaky biscuits, the mood had changed. And to top it off, Elvis came on over the sound system, crooning “I’ll Have a Blue Christmas without You.” The song always brought a tear or two. And she thought of Uncle Vinny.
“I do hope that poor man isn’t getting you a ring this Christmas, Charlotte.” Melinda Sue shook her head. “He’ll be heart broken.”
“Oh I’d feel terrible.” Miss Charlotte had turned thoughtful. “Do you think I should bring this up before Christmas? Maybe break up with him now?”
“No.” The entire place responded.
Mercy me. Turning so the ladies could not see her face, Victoria began rearranging napkins and signs that did not need her attention. Somehow she had to save Uncle Vinny from this embarrassment.
The bubble lights on the tree went into one of their blinking cycles. Victoria rubbed her forehead. The ladies paid Darla and left. Gradually, the place emptied out.
“What do you think of that conversation about your uncle?” Maisy cast her a doleful glance.
“I think I’d better do something.”
But right now she had other things on her mind. She looked over the delicacies in her case, from the potato bacon salad to the orzo. The meals were certainly different from the food Dr.Darling’s people were serving. Anything that brought her mind back to the clinic made her smile.
She couldn’t decide what to wear for her volunteer work the following morning. Nervous energy sent her into the kitchen. Emily had given her some cookie recipes. Opening the top drawer, Victoria snapped them up. How hard could this be? She was about to find out.
When she camethrough the door of the Open Hearth Clinic the following morning, every eye in the place turned to watch. She’d gone to great lengths to fit in. Okay, her jeans were from a well known designer and so were her smoking hot black boots and a white, long-sleeved t-shirt. The day was cool so she’d grabbed a Michael Kors black leather jacket on the way out.
But no one cared about her clothes. The huge bakery box was the center of attention. Well, for most of them. Dr. D. stood in the office door, his eyes focusing on her jeans.
“Lookie here, Dr. D.,” one gentleman called over, sniffing as she passed. “This nice lady’s brought us a present.”
“Sure smells good.” Big Mac drew closer, with Friskie dancing at his heels.
“Think you can give this to Phyllis?” She held out the box. “I don’t see her.”
“She’s in the kitchen.” Giving her one of his smiles, Big Mac said, “I sure will give this to her.”
Aw.That man melted her heart. Looking everywhere but at Dr. D., she surrendered the cookies to Big Mac. The samples she’d brought were her own baking efforts. Last night she’d eaten a couple and didn’t get sick. The sand tarts and chocolatethinsies must be okay. Phyllis bustled in from the kitchen. “So you came back. Nice to see you again, Miss Victoria.”
“I’m here to volunteer. You know, for the article I’m writing.” Victoria felt so darn nervous. Good thing Big Mac had taken the cookies or she would have dropped the box.
Eyes twinkling, Phyllis nodded. “Follow me. Let's get you an apron.”
Happy to escape the main room, she followed Phyllis into the kitchen. Snagging an apron from one of the hooks on the wall, she handed it to Victoria. This old thing wasn’t at all like the pretty green aprons she wore at her shop. Maybe they needed some branding. Something color-coordinated. But glancing around, she couldn’t tell what the color scheme was here.
Slipping off her leather jacket, Victoria hung it on the hook. Then she pulled the apron over her head, being careful not to destroy her hairdo. After all she wanted to look her best. She’d taken time with a French braid in back so she could sweep it into her hair net.
“What’s going on?” Dr. Darling poked his head in the door. Looking cuter than ever, he was wearing a blue oxford cloth shirt rolled up on strong forearms. That white lab coat had been hiding way too much. There was something about the way he wore those jeans that told her he might be athletic. But maybe she was just crazed.
Was she imagining that quick but thorough sweep of his eyes? Did he give her jeans a second look? This simple outfit probably looked like something she’d thrown on, but it had taken her hours to decide and she’d changed twice.
“Miss Victoria brought us some cookies. Isn't that nice?” Phyllis got busy arranging the cookies on a plate.
Coming closer, Dr. Darling peeked at the cookies. “Did you make these?”
“Of course. They’re from my shop in Sweetwater Creek. Victoria’s Pantry.”
The curious way he tilted his head kept her babbling. “Leftovers. I mean, they might be a little stale.” She’d better hedge her bets in case he didn’t like them.
Whisking one from the tray, he bit down. The sand tart broke easily. Smiling, he chewed and swallowed. “Doesn't taste stale to me.” Powdered sugar had caught in the corners of his lips. Her fingertips tingled to brush it away, but his tongue made short work of it. Victoria steadied herself against the counter.
