Page 9 of The Christmas Blueprint

“You don’t believe in decaf.”

“I’m willing to be open-minded.”

“Oh.” Sophia pretended to paw through her collection. “Looks like I’m out.”

Raoul watched their interplay with his usual expression of “women are weird” bafflement. Not totally surprising, as the five brothers had grown up with their father after their mother passed young in a traffic accident.

“Mija,” her mother said.

Sophia rolled her eyes. Her mother only pulled out the Spanish when she was revving up the drama.

“Who better than me to be on the planning commission?” Sophia spun around, hands on her hips.

“No one,” her mother said proudly. “But there are so many other ways to be involved in the community, helping people, that aren’t so public and potentially contentious. Tension with the mayor could reflect poorly on your store or…” she paused “…our farm. And,mija, you are still deep in your grieving process.”

Sophia tensed. It’s not that she hadn’t thought about blowback, but she and Riley often discussed that people had to stop being afraid of what the Banes would do. Riley had made her stand with her Christmas light display, and now Sophia was making hers by joining the planning commission. She wanted to be a part of Bear Creek’s future, and worming her way into the plans for the old Applegate Mill was an excellent start.

“Yes.” She chose her words with care. She’d loved Enrique. Had imagined spending her life with him. But he was dead. She was alive and alone. “I am,” she admitted. “But I—” How to put this? “Need more.”

“More?” Her mom parroted while Growl’s usually dark, shuttered expression looked alarmed.

Oh. My. Goodness. They didn’t think she meant more as in a man, did they? She’d deal with those urges when they arrived later, and solo. That was not up for public discussion.

“Raoul, your brother served his country and his community. We had that in common.” She dragged Enrique into the conversation even though she was trying to make a life for herself, not forever shackled to his memory. She needed to rebuild her own identity and life. “I want to be a positive force in the community just like he was.”

“You have your store,” Growl said, pointing out the obvious.

“You joined the chamber your first year in business,” her mother added. “And you are on the committee for the Christmas Market. Surely, that is enough. You need to care for yourself, Sophia.”

“And you moved out of your parents’ home. That’s a big stressor,” Raoul said raising his gaze. He and his brother Mateo had been the ones to move her new queen mattress up the narrow stairs to the second-floor apartment over her store.

“I only intended to move back home for a few months after Enrique passed,” she said, but her mom had coddled her so much that a handful of months had stretched out. “Everyone grieves differently.” Sophia had learned that in the grief support group her mother had insisted she join and had attended with her for ten weeks after the first awful months had passed.

Then she’d thrown herself into opening her store—Riley by her side, hammer or paintbrush or needle-nose pliers in hand.

“I like to be busy. I like to be of use.”

“Sweetie, you are.” Her mother hugged her fiercely. “But you can’t do everything. You need to give yourself time to feel, to grieve, to process.”

“And you don’t need to be making waves with Bane. He’s an idiot,” the chief of police said with rare candor and succinct delivery. “But a spiteful one.”

“But everyone lets him run the town like a fiefdom—just because of his family. Someone needs to stand up to him.”

“Not you,” her mother said.

“Not directly,” Raoul modified. He sipped his coffee.

“Bear Creek has so much potential,” she argued. “I hate how so many other small towns in Southern Oregon have thrived and built strong economic bases and are year-round tourist draws, and we are still struggling economically. We have so much natural beauty and talent, but we aren’t getting the investment because the city is not investor-friendly. I feel like the Bane family wants to keep the town down so they can keep buying up land cheaper than what should be market value.”

“He’s not getting ours,” her mother said.

“Or my family’s.” Raoul checked his watch.

“Not everyone is so well situated to keep what is theirs,” Sophia said. “I just feel that people need to be involved and stand up to the Banes.”

“But not you, not now,” her mother repeated the theme, her eyes full of worry that stabbed at Sophia’s heart. “Wait until you are stronger.”

“Go easy on yourself, Sophia. Don’t take on more than you can handle,” Raoul added.

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