Page 12 of The Blessings of Christmas
In the past Sarah's mother had been terrified of driving in snow. All that seemed to be a thing of the past. Box in hand she disappeared through the front door, the bell giving a final jingle as she pulled the door shut. Ten seconds later her old Chevy rumbled as she backed out, leaving Sarah at the window.
In the summer, tourists often made The Full Cup their first stop. The women in Sarah's book group visited regularly for cheese crowns and ganache brownies. But today? The only movement on the street was the blowing snow.
Everything was quiet. Too quiet for her.
Time to get to work.
Bustling into the back area, she went to her corner desk and grabbed the recipe binder. The Mexican hot chocolate cookies had been a big success last summer, and she’d ordered aChristmas bell stamp to add a festive touch. Just as she finished mixing the ingredients, her mother returned.
“Your cheeks are as red as my strawberry jam,” Sarah said with a laugh. “So what did Mildred think of the thimbles?”
Mom was studying her new hairdo in the mirror next to the bathroom door. Sarah watched with fascination. Lila had never been one to fuss over herself. “Oh, Mildred isn't there.”
“Really? Is she sick?”
“Didn't I tell you?” One more pat of approval for the hair. “She took the month off to visit her daughter for the holidays.”
“So who's running the place?” Sarah couldn’t picture that desk without Mildred’s smiling face.
“A substitute.” Drifting over to the table, Mom picked up the cocoa and began reading the label. “So, what are you making now?”
“Mexican hot chocolate cookies. Remember how they sold last summer?”
But her mother didn’t seem to be paying attention. Hugging the cocoa tin to her chest, she wore a soft smile.
“After I get these going, I thought I'd get things set up for Ryan.”
The name snapped Mom from her haze. “So he’s coming back?”
“Yes.” They’d gone over all this together just last week. “Ryan’s working on bread at night and cookies in the morning.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to have Ryan all day?”
Having Ryan all day. A knot the size of a cheese crown formed in Sarah’s throat.
“I needed someone at night,” she finally choked out. Well, there it was again. That huge pastry. She cleared her throat. “To handle the bread, you know, since I’m busy with the boys. And you were....”Getting older. But she decided not to add that.
“Of course, dear.” Her mother began to leaf through the blue binder. “Spritz, chocolate pecan bark, sand tarts. You two will have a great time. Is Ryan happy helping with the Christmas cookies?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. You should have seen him separating the eggs for the thimbles.” She smiled, remembering.
Her mother stepped over to the radio and turned up the dial. “I’ll be Home for Christmas” was playing. Bing Crosby’s soothing voice filled the room. The bell jingled out front and her mother rushed to wait on a customer. Thank goodness someone had come in despite the snow.
Maybe Sarah would save the hot chocolate cookies for tomorrow. It might be fun to watch Ryan work the stamp. Instead, she busied herself with cinnamon rolls. Inhaling the cloves and cinnamon lifted her spirits. Before long, the snow stopped and the scratchy sound of the snow plows came down the street. Good, the streets would be salted by the time she left to pick up the boys.
The bell continued to jingle. Although she couldn't hear the conversations, she thought she heard the wordthimbles. When she peeked over the swinging door, her mother was talking to a young couple. “You tasted these at the library? Yes, the cookies came from us.”
“The thimbles are my husband’s favorite,” the woman said. “His mother used to make them.”
Maybe that trip to the library was worthwhile after all. Returning to her cinnamon roll dough, Sarah finished them off and then began on pecan buns. To her surprise, the front bell kept ringing. After a customer left, she went out front. “I guess your trip to the library paid off.”
Her mother gave her a mysterious smile. “Oh, I think so. The library’s been busy. Everyone wants to take out a book before the snow starts again.”
By the end of the afternoon, the thimbles were gone. Her mother swung through the door with the empty tray. “Will you just look at this?”
“That's amazing.” Sarah set the tray in the sink. “I should write a thank you note to the woman taking Mildred's place. What's her name?” Picking up a pen, Sarah grabbed a pad of paper.
Her mother had started wiping down the pan in the sink. “Stuart.”
