Page 122 of The Blessings of Christmas
But she’d had a great morning.
Washing dishes. Go figure.
And flirting with Dr. Darling, aka, Just Derek.
Ho–ho–ho.
CHAPTER 8
Victoria’s high spirits lasted until she reached Sweetwater Creek. Pulling in behind the building, she took a breath. She cracked open the door and got out. Every muscle in her body ached––her neck, her back and even her legs felt sore from bending over that sink. She felt like the Tin Man who needed more oil. Whoever heard of a kitchen without a dishwasher?
But as she stood there under the liveoaks with dry leaves rustling overhead and a cool breeze wafting up from the bay, she felt good. Satisfied. She liked Phyllis a lot. Big Mac had come in to check on her a couple of times. Friskie even checked on her, sniffing around like he was searching for more green beans.
When she pushed open the back door of her shop, the sound of Christmas music carried from the front. Her achy muscles eased. Hanging her black leather jacket up in her office, she went out front. The sweet smell of pine tickled the back of her throat. Maisy stood chatting with Miss Charlotte and her friends. The other tables were filled as well.
“Where have you been?” Maisy gave her a curious glance.
Self conscious, she ran a hand over her slacks. She must looked a mess. “Just helping out at the clinic in Amblebury.”
Maisy’s curiosity turned to disbelief, as if Victoria had just announced she’d become a snake charmer in the carnival. “What did you do over there?”
“Whatever needs doing.” Oh, wasn’t that brave? The truth was, she’d felt totally out of her comfort zone. And Dr. Darling knew that so of course she couldn’t fail. She would not let him get that satisfaction. “You know, doing dishes in the back.”
“You washed dishes?” Maisy’s jaw dropped. “But not by hand, right?”
“Of course, by hand. The place is old. No budget to speak of so they don't have a dishwasher. Some places don’t, you know.”
“Of course I know that. But I didn’t realize you did.”
Victoria felt proud of herself. To avoid Maisy’s scrutiny she took quick inventory of the cookies and trotted to the back for some refills, with Maisy trailing behind.
This morning had been a revelation. When she thought about her kitchen here at the pantry or in her apartment above, she almost laughed. She owned every gleaming gadget a kitchen could have. Knowing how to work them was another thing entirely. “The Open Hearth Clinic operates on a shoestring budget.” Her notes came back to her.
“You amaze me sometimes, Victoria.” That was all Maisy could say?
“I hope that’s a good thing.” The comment brought a grin from her employee. “Did you find the cookies I baked?”
“You mean the ones with all the powdered sugar? You made those?”
“Yes, I did and don’t sound so surprised.” She was enjoying this.
“Darla and I thought Santa had left them.” Maisy nodded to some boxes piled on the counter. “A shipment came in with some of your Christmas items.”
“Thank goodness. Next year I'll have to order all that stuff way in advance. Can you put that on your Christmas list?”Delegate, delegate.
“Sure thing. I’m ready to label them if you give me the pricing.” Maisy grinned.
“Done. I’ll get the sheet to you.”
The longer they worked together, the more admiration Victoria had for Maisy. Seeing the group at the Open Hearth Clinic and how they joked together and got along had inspired her. Her time at the sink gave her greater appreciation for the worker bees of the world.
She checked the few cookie sheets left in the racks. Their stock was selling fast. “Would you double the order for gingerbread men, the Santas and maybe some extra spritz cookies? Whatever people like the most. If I have time, I’ll probably be baking more. I enjoyed it.” Her voice lifted with surprise.
Maisy grabbed a pad of paper. But as she wrote, Victoria didn't miss the astonishment on her face. “Are you thinking sales will double as we get closer to Christmas?”
“These are for the clinic.” Maybe she was turning into a do-gooder after all.
“The clinic, huh?” Surprise sparked in Maisy’s eyes.
