Page 2 of Let it Snow
Max rolled his eyes at his friend, but hugged him back.Louis had and always would be more like a brother to him than anything else.The sudden realization of not seeing him every day made Max’s throat tight, but Louis had his growing family and if Max was ever going to get something similar, he needed to break free from the routine he had found himself in.“I’ll only be gone for a few weeks, Lou.”Max wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure his friend, or himself.Either way, the words felt slightly hollow.Max needed a change, and even though it meant possibly leaving his best friend behind, he knew that even an entire ocean between them couldn’t break the kind of lasting friendship they had.And knowing that brought him as much comfort as the hug he was currently encased in.
When Louis pulled back from the hug, he gave Max a pointed look.“If you say so, mon ami.”He pointed down to the entremets and smiled.“Now finish those off with mirror glaze and then we can start working on the beignets, oui?”
Max nodded and did as he was told, smiling at their easy camaraderie.He would be lucky to find a job as carefree as this one, but even if he didn’t, the promise of something outside of work was what kept him going.That was the goal, but first, he had to book a flight to England.
CHAPTER TWO
Lucy
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The smell of sugarand spices filled the air of the kitchen as Lucy opened the oven and pulled out a tray of gingerbread biscuits.As she carefully transferred each cut shape to a cooling rack, she sent up a silent prayer to her mom that unlike the last five batches, this one would turn out properly.Gingerbread biscuits were something of a staple at The Blackthorn Inn, especially at Christmastime.The bed and breakfast that had been in Lucy’s family for three generations was aptly named for the blackthorn bushes that grew above the short portico and along the bottom of the house, but it was gingerbread that the place she called home was known for.
The small population of Upper Middlewood, a small blink and you’ll miss it town in Northeastern England, lovingly referred to The Blackthorn Inn as the Gingerbread Cottage.It didn’t matter that the house was much larger than a cottage and was named something else.Since the mid-century, each year at Christmas, the Inn hosted a day-long gingerbread biscuit decorating party.Annually, the people of the town and any tourists who were interested were invited to wander through the main floor of the Inn, grab a biscuit, and decorate it to their hearts content while enjoying a cup of hot tea and good company.
It was a tradition that dated back to the Second World War when Lucy’s grandmother would gather all the women in town in her home and they would make biscuits together.It was a spot of cheer during a time when most of the men of the town were off serving their country while the women and children stayed behind and kept the home fires burning.When her grandfather returned from Germany, he and Grammy had turned their home into a business so people who had no one to return home to could stay and get a sense of family, even if only for a day or two.Even though the war was over, The Blackthorn Inn kept up the gingerbread tradition as a way to bring the town together, and from the stories she had been told as a child, it was a tradition that helped a lot of people through such a tough time and still did with the townspeople cherishing it as much now as they did then.
A little over ten years after the Blackthorn Inn became a destination for people traveling in Northern England, Lucy’s mother was born.She was raised at the Inn and shown all the ins and outs of the business, and once she was old enough, she took over the management position and kept the gingerbread tradition going as well.Now the Inn belonged to Lucy, and it was up to her to welcome the town into her home and show them a sense of family.This year, however, it would be very difficult for her to do that when she no longer had a sense of it herself.With her grandparents and her mother no longer with her, Lucy wasn’t sure she would survive the gingerbread party without breaking down into tears let alone welcoming an entire town with open arms and a friendly smile.
Lucy had made peace with the fact that her grandparents were gone.They had passed within a year of each other when she was in middle school, and while it had been a loss she hadn’t wanted to deal with at the time, she was eventually able to focus on the happy memories she had with them and not the fact that they were no longer there with her.Besides, she had her mother, and that had always been more than enough.Anise Shaw was the best mother anyone could ask for.She was kind, loving, and taught Lucy to see the good in the world.Lucy’s mother always believed there was something wonderful just around the corner.
Even when she was diagnosed with an aggressive form of ovarian cancer the previous year and knew she wasn’t going to live to see another Christmas, she told Lucy her next adventure was waiting for her, and she couldn’t wait to see what it was all about.She passed in the middle of January, and Lucy had been alone ever since.The grief of losing her mother, her best friend in the whole world, might have been less impactful if she had had someone to help shoulder her grief, someone to share the burden of life without the person who loved you most in this world, but she didn’t.The Inn was a lonely place with just her as the only permanent resident, but at least she still had the people of Upper Middlewood to count on.
Growing up in a tiny town had many advantages.Lucy knew just about everyone by name, and her family business had been around for so long and was so loved by everyone that it practically ran itself.Word of mouth spread to all corners of England, and she was hardly ever at a loss for guests at the Inn.One large disadvantage of living in a small hamlet was that dating options were few and far between.She’d had her fair share of boyfriends in high school, but most had wanted to leave their small town and explore the wider world and did so immediately upon graduating.Lucy had been on enough vacations to other parts of the country and even over to Europe for her to know that the small corner of England and the Blackthorn Inn would always be home to her.Though, it would be nice if there was someone special to share that home with.
For her mom, someone special had come in the form of an overnight guest who was backpacking his way across England.Lucy didn’t know much about her father beyond his name, John, and the fact that he was an American.Lucy’s mother had told her how he’d come to the Inn one evening, looking dashing and charming her instantly with his tales of life in the states.They swapped stories into the wee hours of the morning, her mother describing their time together as magical.They spent one beautiful night with one another before he was on his way.Previously, her mother had been told she couldn’t have children due to fertility issues, so when she discovered she was pregnant weeks after her American fling had left, she was so grateful that there was no way she wasn’t keeping the baby.Nine months later, Lucy was born and had become the apple of her mother’s eye.
Some might hear the story of her conception and pity her mother for having to raise a child alone with only her aging parents for help, but Lucy had always loved listening to her mother tell her all about the handsome American man who gave her the one thing she never thought she would have—a child.It was romantic, and while Lucy had always secretly hoped for a similarly romantic tale for herself, it hadn’t happened yet.There had been opportunities for her to hook-up with guests before, but it had never felt right, never felt like they shared that sort of instant connection people yearn for.Ideally, Lucy would find someone who wanted to settle down at the Inn with her and start a family, but she wasn’t so naive as to think that would happen anytime soon.At only twenty-five years old, she had plenty of time, even if she wanted it to be her reality sooner rather than later.
Shaking herself from her thoughts of romance, Lucy stared down at the tray of cooling biscuits, wondering if they would taste as bland and lifeless as the ones before them.No matter how many times she tried to make the biscuits, following the recipe to a T and doing everything exactly the way her mother had taught her, Lucy couldn’t seem to get them to taste right.“Well, here goes nothing,” she said to the empty kitchen then selected a biscuit in the shape of a snowman.She broke it in half, smiling as the snapping sound rang through the air.At least she had gotten the texture right this time.Raising one broken half to her mouth, Lucy inhaled the scent of warm spices and took a bite, letting the buttery biscuit crumble and melt on her tongue.A smile started to form on her face as she tasted the sweet ginger flavor, but it faltered as the biscuit turned to ash in her mouth.
Groaning, Lucy grabbed her water glass off the counter and washed down the offending treat.“Still not right.Damned ginger biscuits,” she spat out, glaring at the tray of treats as if it was their fault they didn’t taste as they should.Frustrated, Lucy ran her fingers through her long, strawberry locks, pulling on the ends as she stared down at another unsuccessful attempt to do her mother proud.“What am I going to do?”she whispered to herself.
She certainly couldn’t let the tradition her family had kept up for years die along with her mother, but she couldn’t bring herself to serve anything less than what they had been in years past, either.She felt hopeless, but before she could spiral down that path any further, a knock came from the back door.
When she opened it up, she smiled at the young man she had known for more years than she could remember.Brent Sherwood had been her playmate in grammar school, date to just about every school dance, and her very first kiss.He had also been the first boy to touch one of her boobs, then promptly announced he was gay.Luckily, he was the only boy to have done that or she might have developed a complex.With dark hair and round glasses, he was the epitome of the word adorkable and would make a lovely husband one day to his fiancé Mark.
