Page 2 of The Christmas Blueprint

“You will not find anyone more dedicated to preserving our town history while also thinking of its future.”

“Cue swelling music,” Riley whispered, and Sophia clenched her teeth and smiled so she didn’t laugh. She’d practiced that line with Riley yesterday.

“I know you have good intentions,” Jeffrey said patronizingly, and Sophia drew in a deep breath using her diaphragm not her shoulders to keep her patience, as she was about to be hit with a major mansplain.

“My grandparents and parents still farm here. My brothers have started a vineyard management company and their own wine label. You and I both have a lot of skin in the Bear Creek game,” she said, jumping in front of his cutting ‘no.’

So much for patience.

“I was going to say before I was interrupted—” He glared down at her, and Sophia knew, absolutely knew she should placate him. She wanted to be involved in city planning. She’d wanted to for a while, but it had taken her time to feel she had enough experience and, even then, she’d worried she didn’t have enough. And yet when she’d heard who else was stepping forward—friends of the mayor who hadn’t lived in town since high school, with businesses in Medford and who had used their parents’ addresses for their applications, she knew she needed to act now.

“That I am of course concerned about your mental state.”

“My…mental state?” she echoed in disbelief.

She heard Riley stir behind her and turned her palm outward in a silent plea to stand down. Riley had always been fiercely loyal and a force of nature. Sophia, too, was strong but less overtly, and none of the people in the room she hoped to be working with would respect her if she didn’t fight her own battles. She hadn’t even wanted Riley to come, but Riley was presenting her final plan for her Christmas Light Garden after the three applicants for the planning commission opening interviewed.

“Emotional state, whatever.” He waved his hand. “You recently lost your…um, fiancé, Jorge…and—”

“His name was Enrique Reyes. He lived in Bear Creek. He grew up in Bear Creek. He went to high school with your sisters and was a star tight end on the football team when you were a freshman. He served his country in the army and then returned home to help his parents and to serve our community as a smoke jumper. He died trying to protect our valley and our people from losing everything.”

You know his name.

She hadn’t been aware of moving, but now she stood directly in front of Jeffrey Bane and the city council who sat up on their elevated dais.

If I’m ever on the city council, we’ll burn that thing and not make people look up our noses.

Sophia was tall. Nearly six feet, and she wore chunky heels so she didn’t often have to look up to anyone. Jeffrey shrank back a little, and she could see his pupils enlarge.

“If you were truly concerned with my emotional state, I think you’d be able to remember the name of the man I loved, who died in the Almeda fires two summers ago. He has his name alongside other heroes who died in the line of duty protecting our town on a commemorative plaque in the front of city hall. A place where you work. I was on the committee of citizens who raised money for the plaque, as the city’s budget had ‘no flexibilities for unexpected expenses.’ I’m excellent at keeping within my budget. My store has never been in the red one month since its opening.”

His mouth opened. Closed.

“Or have you never looked at this plaque because you only use the back entrance?”

“Thank you for application,” he practically spat at her, pushing the glossy leather binder off to the side. “There are other applications to review, so my office will be in touch.”

“But the other applicants are not in the room for this meeting.”

“They are busy businessmen, pillars of their community.” Jeffrey half rose out of his seat indignantly.

“In Medford.” Sophia kept herself calm. He should have known she would be prepared and that he couldn’t rattle her. She’d been a star debater in high school who’d regularly outscored him.

“The other applicants don’t live in Bear Creek,” Sophia said to the three city council members who looked like they’d rather be elsewhere. “And all of you know it. A legal, local address is required in the bylaws to serve on the city planning commission, as well as on the city council,” she said. “And the other applicants didn’t even bother to show up for the interview today, which shows all of you how seriously they take planning for Bear Creek’s future.” She included the four city planning commissioners in her pointed stare. “So my question to you, city council members and planning commissioners, is do you love your town? Do you take stewardship of it seriously enough to think independently and appoint the most qualified candidate?”

Her heart thundered so loudly she could barely hear herself speak.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Sophia said. “Thank you all for your time.”

She smiled. Les Brandis and Bruce Wilcox, the two long-time members of the planning commission, stared at her, mouths open for a moment before Les snapped his shut and nudged Bruce to do the same. Steve Brandis, Bruce’s brother who worked with him and whom Sophia rarely saw around town, stared at his brother in a silent plea. Chase Hill, the youngest member of the city planning commission—likely in his early forties—winked at her.

“We meet to review any submitted plans first Monday of the month at city hall, seven p.m.,” Les said. “My wife usually provides us with a pie. Bruce stops off and gets a travel thingy of coffee from the Caffeinated Goat. Chase Hill brings fixings and barbecue from the Last Stampede. You can bring salad or whatever girly thing you’d like. My wife says I need to get more fiber.”

His brother snickered.

“But don’t go pilfering your family’s veggie plot yet,” Les said. “We don’t meet in December. After the first of the year works just fine.”

“Nothing has been decided,” Jeffrey Bane objected. “All the applications need to be reviewed.”

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