Page 27 of Holiday Cheese and Capers
“That’s only because you didn’t see Exandra’s face.” Zephyr shook his head. “Merlin’s beard, Bayard! Even the way she coddles Fred.”
“She loves Fred?—”
“She lovesyou, you daft old fool.” Zephyr gripped his shoulder. “And after hearing that story, it all makes sense. I have a feeling she’s just as convinced as you are that she doesn’t deserve happiness. You’re both so busy punishing yourselves that you can’t see what everyone else sees.”
Bayard stared at him, wanting desperately to believe it. “You really think...?”
“I think you should talk to her. Tell her what you just told me.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Then why invite me and her on this cruise, Bay? Why’d you include us on this trip if not to find the courage to talk about the past and say the things that need to be said? You can’t start this new chapter until you close out the past one.”
“She’s only here because of the Culture Vulture,” Bayard argued. He looked away, staring out at the swirling snow.
There were icicles forming on Bayard’s eyebrows. Zephyr’s lips were turning blue.
“We should get back inside before we freeze solid,” Bayard said. “Fred will be wondering where I am.”
Zephyr looked like he wanted to say more, but he just nodded. “Think about what I said?”
“I will.” Bayard turned to go, then paused. “Zeph? Thank you. For listening. For... everything.”
“That’s what friends are for, old man.”
As Bayard opened the door back into the warmth, Zephyr called after him: “She has feelings for you, Bay. I’d stake my life on it.”
Bayard didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The hope was almost too painful to hang onto.
A GOUDA STORY
The ship’s library was tucked away on the upper deck, a cozy sanctuary of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, plush reading chairs, and soft lamplight. A crackling fireplace dominated one wall, and frost-covered windows offered glimpses of the snow falling outside.
Wren stepped inside with Fred still in her arms, grateful for the quiet after the bustle of the atrium market. A small table near the door held the book exchange. The setup was simple. On one side of the table was a roll of brown paper, scissors, tape, assorted ribbons and trim, and markers in every color of the rainbow. On the other side of the table, a large basket was stacked with the books that had already been wrapped. Some of them were a complete mystery. Others had clues in the form of a note written on the package by the gift giver. These included hints about the genre, the types of characters found in the book, or who might enjoy reading it.
A small placard explained the simple rules for the “Blind Date with a Book.”
Leave behind a wrapped book, and choose a new book of your own. We hope you will enjoy the simple magic reading.
Wren browsed the offerings, and after careful consideration, selected a slim package that seemed promising. She’d already wrapped her own contribution earlier. She was trading in a beloved travel memoir she’d read three times and was happy to pass along.
As she straightened, she nearly collided with Exandra, who’d just entered from the opposite door.
“Oh! Sorry,” Wren said, juggling Fred.
“My fault entirely,” Exandra replied. She held a wrapped package of her own and was eyeing the exchange table with what looked like suspicion. “I’ve never done this sort of thing before. Is there a strategy?”
“Just pick the one that calls to you,” Wren said. “That’s the fun of it. You never know exactly what you’ll get.”
Exandra selected a thick, square package and held it up. “Probably something terribly boring. Advanced magical theory or property law.”
“And I’ve probably picked a bodice-ripper romance.” Wren laughed. She looked at Exandra’s package, then her own slim one. “Want to trade?”
Exandra blinked, surprised. “Really?”
“Why not? Yours looks more interesting.”
They exchanged packages, and something about the simple, spontaneous trade made them both smile.
