Page 16 of The Christmas Mittens
Pastor Pete shot a look at us that made me, Chloe, and Jess slide down in our pews in shame.
“Yes, well, as soon as the service is over, can someone from the ladies’ auxiliary meet Miss Franny at the front door with a black coffee, one sugar?” Pete asked, which got a soft chuckle from the congregation. Franny nodded and returned to her knitting. Gilda was barely able to contain her shock and glee. Imagine your dad being bad in church. “Now, as I was saying about being called to service for your community…”
When the sermon was over and we were filing out, my face was still hot with embarrassment. A cluster of people was gathered in the vestibule, chatting with Pastor Pete and Nigel. I was in no hurry to have to apologize for my discourteous behavior, so I hung back to wait for Gilda, who was whispering with a group of girls from school.
Leaning against the back of an old wooden bench, I let my wandering thoughts lead me back to Anders, a place they went far too often when I didn’t rein them in. Was he in trouble?Those two goons were huge and intimidating, and he seemed displeased to see them. Nothing physical had taken place—no roughing up or shaking down—but it was not a happy time. That was obvious. Maybe I should consider broaching the subject with Anders if/when I see him next. Perhaps he would be gone, never to be seen again, now that the Simi Valley drug cartel had tracked him down.
Oh. Oh no, I was not citing soap operas for viable reasons for a duo of enforcers to visit Anders and his pooch.
“Dad, can we go? I want to get home and get knitting. I think Della should have a pink sweater to match her leash. Also, Kimmie just reminded me that BSX2 is dropping a new video this afternoon!”
My goodness, Della must really rate if she was exciting enough to make Gilda forget about BSX2. That’s quite impressive for such a little dog to pull off. I was sure nothing would ever usurp Duri, Jae-Won, Hoon, Ji, and Kija. Yeah, I knew all of their names and could tell you which lad had what color hair. Some things got drummed into your psyche. Repeated exposure to the band and their music had embedded them forever in my memory banks. I feared the boisterous fivesome might have pushed out some other pertinent information like the name of my first-grade teacher to ensure that the lyrics to “Boom! Berry Love!” lingered until I was no more.
“Okay, let’s go say hello to Pastor Pete and Nigel and head home.” She led the way, intent now on zooming home at warp speed. Hoon, he of the blue hair, could not be swooned over soon enough! The crowds had thinned out by the time we were at the front door. Pete met us with warm smiles, the heater overhead blowing his black hair into his brown eyes, as Nigel immediately fell into a discussion over the school play with Gilda. He was the producer, graciously offering his services for free as he always did, and seemed to have thoughts about some technical issue.
“So, what did you think of the sermon?” Pete asked, his eyes twinkling. He knew I’d missed some and had whispered through the majority of what was left.
“I think it was quite a fitting subject given the time of the year,” I replied, shaking his hand for a moment. He chuckled as he grasped my hand with both of his.
“Good reply. I’d like to thank you, or perhaps I should say, I’d like you to pass along our deepest thanks to the gentleman donating so graciously to our coffers.” I’d dropped the latest contribution from Anders—another thousand dollars tucked neatly in a soft blue envelope of fine vellum he’d passed to me after sorting out Della’s yarn and butthole situation. “He’s donated seven thousand dollars. We can do so much with that funding. We might even be able to put some aside for the steeple repairs we so desperately need. When you do speak to him next—”
“I’m not sure I will,” I replied and got a quirked brow from Pete.
“Oh, I was under the assumption that you and our mysterious…well, not quitesomysterious as everyone knows about him, benefactor were close friends. Miss Franny said he comes by your shop daily, lingers, and always leaves with a smile.”
For the love of peanut butter. Gossiping about me and Anders was so far out there that it was in the Milky Way.
“He has stopped by, yes, but only for mittens for his min pin dog. We’ve talked a bit, nothing more than that, I assure you.”
Pete placed a hand comfortingly on my arm. “If there were a spark between you and him, would that be so terrible? I’m sure Katie would not have wished you to live your life alone.”
“No, probably not, but I can assure you there is nothing going on between me and Anders Becken,” I insisted. It was important the pastor knew I was not chasing after someone who could beon the run from the Simi Valley wine cartel. Yes, there had been a moment when something might have taken place but nothing had. “What?”
The good pastor was looking at me oddly. “Why is that name familiar?” He glanced at Nigel, but his other half was involved, so he bit down on his cheek as he mulled. “That name sounds familiar to me, but I can’t imagine why.” He shook his head to clear it. “It will come to me. Just try not to be too hard on yourself for feeling something for a handsome, mysterious, generous man.”
When Nigel and Gilda broke apart, I was gently tugged outside into the cold by my anxious daughter. While we were buckling up, Gilda looked up from her seat belt buckle to me, her hair falling into her face.
“Did Pastor Pete say you were dating Anders?” I gaped. “I mean, it’s totally okay if you and he were to see each other. He’s really nice and crazy polite. Who bows and kisses your hand? He’s like some sort of fae prince or something.”
A fae prince. My gosh, my daughter truly was creative. As if a gorgeous prince from a faraway land was going to show up here, in Grouse Falls, and fall madly in love with me?
“That kind of thing only happens in fairy tales,” I assured her and buckled myself in. “Anders is just an eccentric soul who happens to have impeccable manners and a giving nature.”
“You think he’s cute, though, right?” She prodded, latching onto this insane idea like Della with a mitten.
“I think he is a nice man with a past that might be dangerous.”
“Dad, he has a dog.” She leveled a look at me.
“That proves what exactly?” I adjusted the heater to blow more heat, but it would be a few minutes. “Lots of people who are sketchy have dogs.”
“No, that is untrue. Dogs are sacred souls and only live with those who are unselfish and giving. Everyone who allows a dog into their lives is a chosen soul.”
I glanced from the vent to my daughter. “Where did you hear that?”
“It was in a book I read last year.”
“Was the book a fantasy?” I’d not known her to read any kind of book other than YA romantasy for the past year. There were piles of manga and fantasy romances in her chaotic room.
