Page 300 of Screwged for Christmas

She peeled back the cuff of her sleeve. Eleven o’clock. Christmas tree delivery in an hour then she could deal with calling Gran again and letting her know the change of plans. She couldn’t feel guilty, but a certain weight lodged in her belly at the thought of backing out when she told Gran she would stay through Christmas. Then again, leaving the day after was not breaking her word.

Then there was Aspen. She wouldn’t let a couple of hours spent with the man dictate her emotions.

Ivy cracked her knuckles and rolled her head. “Game time. Food, more lights because she refused to untangle that blob of bulbs sitting on the front porch, stop off for the new curtains Gran had put an order in for, another few cans of paint and then back home for the trees and the call. I got this.” She fixed the review mirror and caught a stray hair that escaped her loose braid.

From the left, a blur of bright red and white caught her eye in the mirror. A smiling face came into focus as Ivy caught the reflection of a slightly older version of Mrs. December waving at her as she shuffled across the partially empty parking lot.

“Oh, Ivy.” Mrs. December held her door open as Ivy slipped from the warmth of the car and into the embrace of an old family friend. Mrs. December preferred to fight against her short stature with smart heels that reminded her of something Samantha from “Bewitched” wore and midnight black hair streaked with silver piled high, held only in place by at least half a pack of bobby pins and a healthy dose of hairspray. Through the opening of her coat, Ivy caught a glimpse of a wide belt cinched around her middle creating soft, feminine pleats along the bottom half of her dress.

Classy and stylish. You would never know she’d never left Dixen for the big city life.

She was the perfect balance between two eras.

Berry red lips peeled into a welcoming smile. “I hoped I would run into you today. Aspen said you would be around getting supplies.”

Ivy knew there was lesschanceand more stalking involved but only smiled. The older woman gave Ivy one final squeeze before pulling back.

Fine lines graced the edges of soft brown eyes and the cold teased a fair pink to color robust cheeks made plump by her affection for cookies and her husband’s bakery, no doubt. This only lent to the happy sparkle in the older woman’s eyes.

See. This town was Hallmark-fucking-perfect.

“Aren’t you a sight to see! It’s been too, too long, Ivy honey. After our talk this morning I hoped I would get to see you sooner rather than later. Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

Ivy smiled widely. “Merry Christmas to you too, Mrs. December.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the warm welcome and enthusiasm. “I trust Mr. December is back at the bakery with fresh ideas on how to beat Mr. Hardt this year?”

Mrs. December’s hands made a muffled thump as she clapped her gloved palms together. “That man hasn’t left the bakery since Thanksgiving. I’m beginning to think I might not ever have sex again. Or at least not until after the New Year the way this year is going.”

Okaaay. “Neck to neck I see. That has to create some excitement. Nothing like a good old-fashioned competition.”

Mrs. December nudged her wire-rimmed glasses a notch up her nose as she rolled her eyes. “Honey, there isn’t one old-fashioned thing about this year but the two old geezers trying to outdo each other. But you won’t hear me complain when all the extra food goes to the orphanage.”

Mrs. December’s passion for as long as Ivy could remember. A minute later Mrs. December looped her arm in Ivy’s as they sought refuge from the cold in the grocery store. “With Mr. December’s bread delivery to the church, what’s the score now?”

Ivy moved to grab a cart, but Mrs. December beat her to it.

“Who can keep up these days? I’m too worried about my cookie delivery for the Dixcemberfest. You know the girls gather at my house every year, but this year we’ll have to work double time with the growing number of people coming to our small town to join our festivities. And this year your gran has added to it.”

“I heard. Will you be using the bakery this year?” They passed a stand filled with wrapping paper and bows. Another with pretty bundles of variously flavored cookies and another with the dreaded fruitcakes. All of them made their way into the cart and Mrs. December continued. “Have you ever tried to fight for a little kitchen space with a master baker? I like being married and I’d hate to take a rolling pin to the man, you know what I mean.”

Ivy fought back a laugh. Instead, she canted her head a little. “Fair and good point.”

She had seven brothers and sisters. Fighting for space growing up came with the territory.

“I know a thing or two about it.”

Mrs. December smiled. “I bet you do, hon. So I’ve talked Mr. December into a quick kitchen makeover. A new stove and while I’m at it a new countertop section to expand my kitchen. You should come out and see it. You would love it! Aspen can bring you. He’s overseeing the installation of the new stove tomorrow. I’d love to get your professional thoughts on the new design of the kitchen too. ”

With a shaky laugh, she asked, “Umm. I’m a little busy at the B&B. I don’t know if I can pull away.”

“Oh, there’s plenty of time. I bet if you ask, Aspen would love to help you at the B&B. With only a few days until Christmas, you’ll need to hurry. Plus, Mrs. Hardt just put in new countertops at her place. I haven’t revealed mine yet and I want to make sure they are perfect. Can you help? I want them to blow the stockings off Mrs. Hardt’s kitchen and have all the girls chatter about it for months?”

Small-town entertainment at its best.

“Well then. That’s pretty hard to turn down. How do we know what Mrs. Hardt’s counters look like anyway? How are you so sure yours will beat hers?”

“Your gran dug up some pictures on Facebook, of course.”

Ivy didn’t know if she wanted to sigh or laugh. Instead, she said the only thing that made sense. “Naturally.”

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