Snow flurries were coming
in from the west, falling in a thick cascade of angel dust, sprinkling on those
dreamers who wished for a White Christmas, the ones who wore rose-coloured
glasses and believed that Saint Nick really did exist still.
One of those daydream believers was Kate
Shannon. Despite the naysayers around
her, the jaded adults who believed Christmas was solely for kids and kids
alone, she scoffed at them and tossed her flaming hair over her shoulder and
hurried away. Till the day she died, she
vowed she would remain a kid at heart, filled with the anticipation of the fat
man in the red suit sliding down her chimney. Kate did not believe in letting
the world maim her enthusiasm for the holiday joy; she was going to raise a
toast by a roaring fire and enjoy every comfort of the season. It was a contradictory
admission, because Kate was having the worst year of her life. She had lost the
man she loved, her boss at work had demoted her to assistant editor, and
nothing seemed to be going right, despite the positive vibes she tried sending
to the universe. Even those self-help books her cousin lent her were not
“manifesting the dream life” she had been promised.
Looking skyward, she watched the heavy flakes
flutter down to her nose, her face and eyelashes, and she giggled like a child,
locking her car and hurrying into the quaint bakery with the white
board-and-batten siding, and the all-encompassing garland around the huge
picture window and the twinkling gold lights and huge red bow.
Her cousin Miranda, 33, owned the Hope Valley
Bake Shoppe, and always served up her favourite piping hot dinner rolls and
sumptuous desserts, like lemon tarts and pumpkin pie. There was cherry
cheesecake and chocolate drizzled croissants, too. Kate wondered why she didn’t
weigh as much as an elephant, with her thrice weekly visit to the bakery for a
treat or two. But it was her morning 5km run and boot camp classes twice a week
that kept her in check. When she hit thirty this past spring, she had got on
the scale and gained an extra 15 lbs., and that was definitely not cool. Kate,
who was svelte and active her entire life, had never had a weight issue, but
she heard the curse of turning 30 was prone to hitting a plateau, and she got
right into that class as fast as her agile legs could take her.
“Kate! You’ve got to try these fresh blueberry
scones!” Miranda announced from behind the counter.
Kate shivered from the
chill she’d caught outside, and wrapped her purple scarf tighter to her dark
tweed peacoat.
“Sure, I’d love to.” She
flashed her that famous pearly grin, and her hazel eyes lit up with expectancy.
Miranda popped them in
the microwave for 40 seconds, grabbing a white porcelain plate, some butter and
a knife. She poured her famous gourmet candy cane hot chocolate and topped it
with whipped cream and crushed candy cane bits.
“Here you go.” She handed
the plate and coffee to Kate. “I’ll join you. I’m closing early tonight.”
Miranda whipped off the
red apron that said in huge white letters SANTA’S PET, and grabbed her own
plate of scones and coffee. Placing them on the little table with the two
chairs in the front lobby of the tiny bake shop, Miranda locked the front door
so customers would not come in to bother them. It was just a week before
Christmas, and the public had her working round the clock for cakes, pies and
other delicacies for the holiday office parties, and quite frankly, Miranda was
exhausted from the slave-driving mentality of her patrons. If Christmas was supposed to be a joyous time of year with good cheer
and glad tidings, then why did it seem the nasty, demanding people came out
full force? Geesh.
She sat in the chair across from Kate,
massaging her feet, and exhaled. “There, that’s better. My feet are killing
me.”
With her brown hair pulled back in a
pony-tail, she looked at Kate with tired blue eyes. Miranda was almost the
spitting image of Mona Lisa, with a distinctive nose and striking good looks.
People told her all the time, and she would laugh it off in true Miranda
fashion, “Oh, come on, we both know I’m way
better looking than that broad stuck in a painting.”
She mused over it now, and other humorous antics
of the day from assorted customers, with her feet up on a nearby chair.
“You have no idea how
insane this place is right now. I wish I had you here with me for extra help.
My regular girl just quit, so I’m all alone. It sucks.”
Kate sipped her coffee. “If I wasn’t so busy
at the newspaper, I’d lend a hand, trust me.”
“Oh, I know you would.”
Miranda smiled. “I just wish…you know…my favourite cousin and all.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kate shot
her a sly grin. “What are you after this
time?”
“Nothing.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She wasn’t
buying it.
“I swear,” Miranda vowed,
holding up the peace sign.
“You know you’re tired when…you give me the peace sign rather
than the Girl Scouts gesture.”
“Huh?”
Kate burst into laughter,
enjoying her hot drink and the rest of her scone, which was done in seconds.
Miranda eyed her cousin’s
empty plate with wide eyes. “Umm…care for seconds?”
“Hell yeah, woman.” Kate
offered up her empty plate.
“I’m on it.” Miranda
scurried behind the glass case and grabbed four more scones. After the busy day
she’d had, all she wanted was to eat, go home, and soak her aching feet in a
hot bubble bath. Her claw foot tub in the sprawling century home where she
lived with her five cats, was where she spent a third of her life, she swore.
The house had been occupied with several roommates for a number of years, but
they had all moved on with their lives for various reasons, and Miranda quite
honestly was happy to have that big ole space all to herself now. She was an introvert
by nature, an artist and baker, and her “alone” time was well utilized.
Kate looked out the big picture window,
noting her car was covered in snow by now. It was packing snow, no doubt. She
felt the kid in her glow with anticipation. Packing snow meant making a snowman
and perhaps a snowball fight with her cousin or any willing opponent. A sly
grin decorated her lips, and she finished her hot drink.
The sun had gone down, it
was well past five p.m., and Miranda heard a loud rapping on the door. “Geezus,” she said, jolting out of her seat.
“Who could be bothering us at this hour? The blasted store is closed.”
“Let me get it,” Kate piped up. “You’ve been
standing all day.”
“No, no, just ignore it.
Let’s have our coffee and say ‘to hell with the straggler who is knocking.”
Again, the knock came; hammering
this time, as if the world was going to end if it went unanswered.
“Bloody customers.” Kate
got up, finally opening the door with a scowl. “Were you trying to wake the
dead?”
Two gorgeous blue eyes
stared back at her, with half- startled shock and a glimmer of amusement at her
indignant tone.
“Is that any way to talk
to the Fed Ex man? Through sun, snow and sleet….” He quoted the famous company
slogan, frowning. The six-foot-tall hunk let himself in, breezing past Kate and
approaching Miranda at the little café table. He looked dashing in a
three-quarter length black coat, and wore a royal blue dress shirt, a tie and
black pants.
Kate shook her head,
following him. She’d decided he looked nothing like a delivery man.
“Oh my gosh, Grant….”
Miranda blushed. “You’re here for the gingerbread latte.” She got out of her
chair, hurrying behind the counter, grabbing a large paper cup, pouring
espresso, flavoured syrup and steamed milk. On the top, she added a generous
helping of whipped cream and cinnamon sprinkles.
“Here you go, it’s on me
today.”
Grant took the hot drink,
puzzled. “Huh?”
Miranda waved at him.
“Silly man, you’re addicted to those things. It’s on the house.”
“Are you sure?”
“Serious as a heart
attack.”
Grant smiled. “Thanks,
Miranda. Just for that, I’ll take three of the cherry cheese Danish.”
Miranda grabbed a small
brown bag, reaching for the pastries in the display case, and caught the
quizzical expression of her cousin. “Oh, Kate…this is Grant Michaels, the
regional manager of Fed Ex. He’s our most loyal customer.”
Turning red, Kate held out a hand to shake,
but she instead tripped on the long red rug that was in front of the cash,
knocking Grant’s latte out of his hand and spilling the scalding liquid on them
both.
Kate shrieked, feeling
the hot coffee burn like fiery coals on her wrist.
“Geezus, woman, what the
hell is your problem?” Frantically, Grant tried wiping the leakage with his
leather gloves, but there was a lot of it, and it was soaking through his
winter coat.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!
Let me grab a towel from the back.” Scurrying away, Miranda went to get towels,
but she stifled a grin as she ran to the room in the back, where she had
inventory, a fridge and freezer, powder room and linen closet. Her ever-klutzy
cousin Kate was making a smashing first impression indeed. She’d secretly
wanted these two to meet for the past while, but obviously Kate was making a
“smashing” entrance.
Miranda returned, with an ice pack for Kate’s
arm and two towels to clean them both up.
“Thank you, Miranda.”
Grant received the towel, doing his best to soak up the latte that had dripped
everywhere, including on his pants. He was quite pissed, and Kate’s rude tone
had put him in a bad mood.
“I’ll pour you a fresh
latte.” Miranda went to get it.
Sulking at the table in
the corner, Kate scowled, holding the ice pack on her wrist. Stupid men and their cocky ways, she murmured under her breath. The man could
have been a little more understanding, considering she tripped on that goddamn
slippery rug and could have easily broken her neck, or worse.
She eyed him from where she sat, sizing him
up. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had strong hands and a solid body. His
hair was peppered with grey, but he only looked about early-forties, and his
face was round and Scottish-looking, a rather fine-looking man despite the mean
vibe he’d sent Kate.
But I’m
not going to admire his looks or bow down to him, she reasoned. Men just don’t thrill me anymore, and the
last one did a number on my heart.
She sipped her drink,
fuming over men and other mishaps. It had been a long year, and she was glad it
was coming to a close. Kate worked for the Hope Valley Express, the local
newspaper in town, where she was the assistant editor/ reporter and had her own
weekly opinion column. To make ends meet, she also did a spot on the radio
every Saturday night, covering an oldies show called the Beach Party, which had
phone-in requests and prizes.
Miranda
apologized for the spilled latte, and Grant smiled. "Not your fault,
Miranda. Have a good evening." He raised the cup as if toasting her.
"I'll see you later."
He tossed a serious glance at Kate, who was
basically in the corner, wanting to crawl into a hole and die. Oh, the
mortification of scalding a stranger. At least he got the
"good" end of the mishap; she was the one with the burn mark, ice
pack and damaged pride.
Please,
God, don't let this mistake jinx me for the worse; I have Christmas parcels
arriving soon from FED EX, and I don't need this bad karma to ruin my holiday.
When Grant was gone
out the door, Miranda locked it behind him. Heaving a sigh, she joined her
cousin at the table with two refills of candy cane hot chocolate.
A
long pause between them...and then...
"Well, you could
have at least apologized to him."
Staring back at her,
shocked, Kate bit her lip. "Are you kidding me right now? That man was
rude and condescending to me. I tried to say I was sorry..."
"He's our best
customer, Kate, so try to be a little nicer to him next time." Raising the
cup to her lips, Miranda savoured the warm liquid. That hot bath was looking good right
now....ever so good.
"I'll try."
Kate finished her drink and got up.
"Where are you
going?"
"Home. There's
dinner to put on and the mail is probably piling up in the box."
"How is your
arm? Did it burn badly?"
"I
think it's my pride that's damaged more." Kate put on her sparkly
grey newsboy and matching gloves.
"Come to my
place tonight. We'll crank the Christmas carols, make some vegetarian stew, and
wallow in our singleness."
Kate
thought that sounded perfect.
"Okay,
let me go collect my mail, take a shower, and I will be over within 40
minutes."
"Yay!
I'm excited." Miranda cleaned up the table with cloth and warm soapy
water.
"See
you in little while."
"Take
the ice pack if you need it."
"How
bout I duct tape it on?" Rolling her eyes, and feeling the blistering
burn, Kate headed for the door.
"Are
you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital? I've heard of burns being quite
bad."
"I'll
be fine, cousin. I know my first aid. Thank God for that class I took in the
summer."
"Okay,
fine. See you at the house."
"Bye."
Stepping
into the silent, snowy night, Kate felt the snowflakes land on her lashes, and
she breathed in the cool, crisp air. Nothing like clean winter air to cleanse
the senses and ward off the stress of the day. It had been a hectic day at the
newspaper, covering Christmas-related stories and the deadlines before
Christmas was fully upon her.
Getting
in her car, she turned on the heater, and tried to drive off. But suddenly the
car skidded and she pulled to the side of the road. Something was not right.
Her car was lagging, not accelerating like it should be.
Kate
examined the body of the car and all four tires; thank God she'd been a tomboy
growing up and had three brothers who showed her how to change a tire or two,
and how to fix a blown radiator. The right front tire was flatter than a
pancake.
"Dammit,"
she yelled, and her voice echoed in the silence of main street Hope Valley.
Once five p.m hit, the place was like a ghost town.
Looking
up to the heavens, she wondered if there was a Big Guy In The Sky to hear her
plea.
"Seriously,
God? Can you not cut me some slack for once?"
It
had been a lousy past few months, with the man she loved betraying her and
running off with the town floozy, and everything else that could possibly
represent Murphy's Law had haunted her like a banshee.
Kate kicked the flat
tire, cursing to the heavens. She'd have to ride with Miranda and just forget
the hot shower. By the time a tow truck came to haul her car off to the closed
auto shop, her night would be finished.
Grabbing her shoulder
bag and locking her car, she headed back to the bake shoppe.
"You're
back!" Miranda thought she'd seen a ghost.
"Yes,
you look thrilled."
"What's wrong, hun?'
"Flat
tire." Kate's lip trembled, and she looked like she was going to have a
meltdown.
Normally,
she was tough as a rock, but it was a week before Christmas, and she just
wanted some relief from this bad luck. She swore some evil force was swallowing
her whole.
"Cousin,
do you think I could be cursed?"
Miranda
shut off the lights and only left the flood lights on to the front of the store
for security purposes. She let out a robust laugh.
"No,
cousin, you are not cursed. You have just had a bad year, that's all."
"I'm
convinced someone put a hex on me."
Miranda
patted her shoulder. "Come, let's hit the road. I need to soak these feet
and have a refreshing cocktail. We're trying a new one tonight called Jack
Frost."
"Sounds
good." Kate forced a smile.
"Hell
yah....Frosty the Snowman will be rolling in the fields with envy over this
one. The mother of all cocktails."
Kate laughed at her
cousin's loud Leo humour, and they greeted the snowy night with a fierce abandon.
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