“Oh, that’s perfect for William. He’s going to love it.” Joy had spoken to Sophia’s fiancé a lot over the last year—several times when Sophia wasn’t around—so she could ascertain whether he truly had her friend’s best interests at heart.
Every time, he’d passed her tests with flying colors.
“Absolutely.” He snapped the box closed and placed it in a bag for Joy. “My mate sure does love his books and writing.”
“How long have you been friends?”
“I grew up here in Port Willis before my parents moved us to London when I was in year eleven. William is five years younger and was friends with my brother Ben. But then he and I ended up at uni together when I was a postgrad student and stayed in touch even when he moved back here and I stayed put.” Oliver handed the bag to Joy.
She did the math in her head as well as she could. William was thirty-six or thirty-seven, so that would make Oliver in his early forties. Just like her.
Move along, Joy. “That’s wonderful. Friendships are everything.” She took the bag from him, and her fingers brushed his.
Nat King Cole serenaded her from somewhere up high.
Oliver’s eyes locked with hers. “Yes, they are.”
A moment passed before she could eke another word past the lump in her throat. “So I guess I’ll be seeing you around?”
“I hope so.”
“Me too. I’m sure we will, with the wedding activities and such.”
And as she turned to leave, one thought worked hard to poke through the romantic wall she’d built around her heart—friendships were important, indeed.
But sometimes, they weren’t quite enough.
And other times, they simply had to be.
Chapter 4
“And this is the main street.” Joy flipped the camera on her iPhone so her parents could see her surroundings. It was only 7:00 p.m. on a Thursday, but the streets were deserted, nearly everyone having gone home or into a pub for dinner.
Every storefront glimmered with an assortment of twinkle lights hung round their doors and framing their picture windows. Wreaths with red bows had been pinned to most of the streetlamps—the historical wrought-iron kind, with a hanging inverted cone of glass. The only thing missing was a blanket of snow, and Joy would have sworn she’d stepped into a town from one of those cheesy Christmas movies she secretly couldn’t stop watching.
She maneuvered the phone to face the ocean then toward a prominent hill overlooking the village. “Just up that way is the local lighthouse. It doesn’t work anymore, but apparently it’s open for the public to explore.”
“Where did she go?” Her mom’s voice drifted from the phone. “Why can’t I see her anymore?”
Joy hit the reverse button on the screen and switched back to selfie mode. “I’m here, Mom.”
“Oh, hon, I was just telling your dad that you’d disappeared.” Her mother sat up in the hospital bed, her eyes clear. A good day after several bad ones, according to her dad’s daily report.
And Joy was missing it.
She continued walking down High Street toward Sophia’s cottage, located just behind the bookstore. Thanks to finishing up yet another item on her friend’s to-do list, Joy had already been running late for dinner before calling her parents. But she couldn’t stand going another minute without connecting with them.
“Sorry, Mom. I was just trying to show you the town. I’ll take lots of pictures and send them to you. It’s kind of dark now.” The Cornish sunset was obscenely early in December—it began around four fifteen, with nightfall complete by five thirty or so. But tonight a heaven full of stars glittered above her, a thousand diamonds rejoicing in anticipation of Sophia’s nuptials approaching in nine short days.
“That’d be nice, dear.” Mom’s voice started to drift, her eyes to dim.
No, stay with me. “I miss you guys. I’m so sorry I’m not there.”
Dad poked his head into the frame. “We miss you, but it sounds like you are having a wonderful time.”
“Wonderful time? Where is she? Joy? Honey? Why aren’t you here?” Mom’s wail projected from the phone and flooded the nearly empty streets—and Joy’s heart.
“Mom . . .”
“We’re going to go, all right, JoJo? Talk to you soon.” And with that, Dad hung up the phone, leaving Joy in the silence.
Her lips trembled and she shut her eyes for a moment, breathing in, out, deep, strong. There wasn’t anything she could do for Mom from here but pray Dad could get her calmed down.
Joy pocketed her phone and increased her speed, feet aching as she walked downhill. Maybe her yellow T-strap heels hadn’t been the most practical choice for a day of running errands in a town nearly as hilly as San Francisco, but they went so well with her black A-line pocket dress dotted with pictures of tiny cacti and tied at the waist with a large yellow belt. Accented by black leggings, a red cardigan, and dangling cactus earrings, the outfit was one of her favorites.
Too bad she’d had to slightly diminish its effect by throwing her puffy parka on top, but Joy was smart enough to forego fashion for warmth when necessary, especially since they’d already experienced a dip in the temperature since she’d arrived two days ago. In fact, according to Sophia, temps would continue to decrease during Joy’s visit. Meteorologists were even calling for snow around Christmas, which hadn’t happened in fifteen or so years.
A door closed and a bell jangled somewhere nearby as she hurried toward her destination.
“Joy. Hey! Hold on.”
She stopped so abruptly at the sound of Oliver’s voice that a small smattering of loose gravel caught her unaware. Joy twisted on her heel and fell onto her rump. In moments, a wet tongue licked her face.
“Thanks, Rascal.” She nuzzled the dog and looked up into Oliver’s face—the one she hadn’t been able to get out of her mind since she’d first seen it yesterday.
“Are you all right?” He offered his hand to her.
She took it, and he hoisted her upright. “Other than a little wounded pride, yeah. I’m good.” Joy inspected her leggings and found a small hole near the ankle. She pointed to it. “I take it back. My day is ruined. I will never recover.”
Oliver’s lips twisted in humor. “You must allow me to buy you another pair.”
Joy laughed. “That’s sweet, but these can’t be replaced, unfortunately.”
“They’re that expensive?” His question wasn’t one of concern, just curiosity—not surprising, considering his blue sport coat looked as if it cost a pretty penny.
“No, they were probably two dollars at Goodwill. But it’s the memories surrounding them that can’t be replaced.” Like when she and Sophia bought them and tried to have a Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants moment . . . and they’d been more like long shorts on her friend. Oh, how they’d laughed.
Or the time when she’d spilled salsa on the leggings during a recent movie night with Mom. Joy had chosen You’ve Got Mail, one of Mom’s favorites, and they’d curled close together on the couch until her mother had fallen asleep.
Yes, that was a memory she’d be going back to over and over in the coming months, something to hold onto when the grief and trials seemed fiercest.
Hands in his pockets, Oliver leaned against a lamppost. “Your smile turned quite serious just then.”
“I was just thinking about my mom.”
His silence in response urged her to continue.
Huh. That was usually her tactic to keep clients talking. Funny thing was, she wanted to share her heart with this almost-stranger.
He was throwing her off balance in more ways than one.
It really was getting cold out here. She folded her arms across her chest to try to get warm. “I’m sorry. I’d love to chat, but I need to get going. I’m late.”
“Are you heading to Sophia’s by chance? Because so am I.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He eased off the lamp and started walking, whistling for Rascal
to follow. “So if you don’t mind the company . . .”
“No, not at all.” I’d enjoy it quite a bit, actually.
Oh, brother.
Rascal flew past them. The dog navigated the steep hill just fine despite his missing limb, somehow managing much better than Joy in her heels. Her toes squished at the front of her shoes and burned.
“Can I assist you down the hill?”
How was it he’d noticed her difficulty but hadn’t made her feel bad about her silly choice in footwear? This guy was racking up the points.
Points that meant absolutely nothing, because, well, she was leaving in ten or so days. And despite that it had already literally happened, she would not allow herself metaphorically to fall head over heels for the first time in forever—not with someone who was un-keepable.
But still. She appreciated his thoughtfulness.
“Considering I don’t want to end up with a scraped face or broken limb just before I have to stand in front of a hundred people at my best friend’s wedding . . . sure. Thanks.” Joy took his arm and allowed him to support her down the hill. Her head only came to his shoulder, but their arms rubbed against each other as they maneuvered toward their destination.
Maybe she should pat herself on the back for selecting these shoes after all.
He’s just being nice, Joy.
Right. Back to reality. Again. “So, you said you were in town to help your aunt. How is she?”
“She’s doing a little better. Thanks for asking.”
“Are you caring for her alone?”
“My parents are coming down after Christmas and staying for a few weeks, but for right now, I’m all she has. Which isn’t much, I’m afraid. I don’t know quite what to do other than ask her what she needs and fetch it for her.”
“And help keep her business running.” They passed a fudge shop and Joy inhaled. The smell of the chocolate wafted outside despite the Closed sign on the white door. “That’s vital for a small business owner.”
“As I well know.”
“Oh?”
Oliver cleared his throat. “I own my business as well.”
“Yeah? I used to own a women’s counseling practice.”
“Two peas in a pod, then, eh?”
She couldn’t help the grin that overtook her at the old-fashioned idiom her mom used to say all the time. “What kind of business do you own?”
“An accounting firm.”
“Oooh, yeah, so I don’t think we’re the same after all. I hate math.”
“Pity. What was your favorite subject in school?”
“Does recess count?”
A guffaw rent the air. “You like socializing, do you?”
“I mean, I did choose a career where I listen to people talk all day, right?”
“I’m quite the opposite. If I could stay tucked away in my office all day long, I would. So long as I had Rascal with me, that is.”
“He’s such a sweetheart.”
At that, Rascal stopped and turned then yipped in agreement. Oliver and Joy laughed.
“You’re a dog person, I can tell.”
“I used to have six dogs. Each one was a rescue next on the list to be euthanized before I took them home.” She sighed, her joviality gone. “I may never have children, but those dogs were my babies. I couldn’t bring them with me when I moved—”
“Moved?”
They reached the bottom of the hill. Oliver released her arm.
See? Just being a gentleman.
A breeze ruffled the bottom of Joy’s dress, bringing a chill with it that left her shivering for a moment.
“I left Phoenix about sixteen months ago and moved to Florida to help care for my mom after she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. My parents are seventy-nine and eighty, so it was difficult but necessary. And six dogs wouldn’t have brought the peace my mom needs right now.”
Oliver squeezed her elbow, and Joy was struck with the sudden desire to snuggle deep into his arms, to see if he’d be as warm and gentle as he appeared. “That’s amazing.”
“My parents are the amazing ones. I’m just blessed I get to be there with them.”
He shook his head as if in disbelief. “I’m in awe and I barely know you.”
“Don’t be too impressed. Remember, I’m also the one who can’t walk down a hill by herself. So . . .”
His eyes roamed her face. “I think I could learn a lot from you.”
“And I’m sure I could from you too.” She said it casually, though with his eyes searching hers, she felt anything but.
“Then ask. Whatever you’d like. I’m an open book.”
She tilted her head. “Why do I get the feeling that’s not always true?”
His strong jaw clenched as if she’d hit upon a nerve with her words. “It may not be always true, but it’s true right now. You’re easy to talk to, you know. Must be the therapist in you.” Oliver paused. “Or maybe it’s just you.” The whispered words floated toward her on the breeze.
They stood under another lamppost outside Sophia’s house, and the glow hid half of his face in shadow. The moment felt private, hidden . . . theirs.
She needed to lighten said moment. Now.
“I get that a lot.” Joy forced a smile and pointed to Sophia’s house behind them. “Shall we?”
“Indeed.”
Rascal led them across the road, and when they reached the front door, Joy let them in. “Soph! Sorry I’m late.”
Sophia’s head popped around the corner. “Hey! Oh good, you found Oliver.” Her friend’s eyes lit with interest as she looked between them.
Busted.
Joy strode forward. “How can I help with dinner?” Once she was in the kitchen, she noticed William chatting with a red-headed man at the tiny table.
“You didn’t think I actually cooked tonight, right?” Sophia leaned forward and pulled three pizza boxes from the oven.
“I know you better than that. But you guys could have eaten.”
William and the man at the table stopped talking. Sophia’s fiancé stood and walked toward them, stooping way down to give Joy a hug. “Hey, mates. Good of you to come.” He adjusted his glasses before reaching over to slap Oliver on the back then slipped his arm around Sophia’s shoulders.
The red-haired man stood as well, his jeans and hoodie making him seem underdressed next to Oliver and William, who was never without a collared shirt or sweater of some sort. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Ah, yeah, sorry.” William ran a hand through his dark blond curls. “Joy, this is my mate and groomsman Steven Applegate. Steven, this is Joy Beckman, Sophia’s maid of honor. And you know Oliver.”
“Pleasure.” Steven shook Joy’s hand.
“Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good things, I hope.”
“Of course.” Joy turned and lifted her eyebrows at Sophia, whose lips twitched. Yes, good things, indeed. According to Sophia, Steven and her friend Ginny were perfect for each other but weren’t in a relationship beyond friendship.
“How about we eat and talk? I’m starving. The bookstore was a madhouse today.” Sophia kissed William on the cheek then opened the top of the pizza boxes.
“I see you got a sausage and pineapple.” Joy pinched Sophia’s side. “Weirdo.”
“She’s not weird. Just unique.” William winked at Joy.
“Toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe.” Joy snagged some paper plates from the counter, handing one to each person in the room. They all dug in.
William lifted his soda water in the air. “A toast.”
“What are we toasting?” Sophia asked.
“Love—and all the unlikely places it can lead.”
Everyone clinked cups and cans together.
Joy felt eyes settle on her. Lifting her head, she met Oliver’s gaze.
“Hear, hear.” He threw back his soft drink with abandon.
Even though she knew she probably shouldn’t indulge the butterflies f
luttering their tiny wings in her stomach, Joy smiled, nodded, and took a hefty sip of her drink.
Chapter 5
“Girl, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you the entire night.” Sophia slapped a label on a box of books headed for London then scooted it aside to make room for another on the bookstore’s front counter. “He’s single, you know.”
Despite the guys staying at Sophia’s until eleven the night before, the two women had risen early and headed to the bookstore before it opened. Overnight, twenty more orders had come in for rare books—Rosebud’s specialty—and Sophia was determined to get the local ones shipped in time for Christmas.
Joy rolled her eyes and ran her finger down a printed inventory list. “You’re just in matchmaker mode thanks to your almost-wedded bliss.” Finding the title she sought, she crossed it out with a Sharpie.
As she took a sip from her third cup of coffee, her eyes roamed the store. Joy had never been much of a reader—movies and TV shows were her jam—but there was something calming about being here, in a place that honored story.
Classy Christmas decor enhanced the already peaceful feeling of the shop’s cozy, small-town atmosphere. A medium-sized tree perched in the front window display, and books wrapped with large bows were stacked artistically underneath the lowest limbs. On the front counter to the left of the register, Sophia had placed a simple Willow Tree nativity—understated but in a place of prominence. The crowning touch was the continuous strand of fairy lights strung from bookcase to bookcase, creating a soft glow that hummed in the pre-dawn hours.
“That’s not true. There was something there.” Her best friend blew a strand of hair out of her face as she taped up a new box and set to carefully wrapping two books with frayed covers. “Don’t even try to deny it.”
Joy clutched the list of orders in her fist. “I’ll be right back.”
She whisked away from her friend’s knowing gaze. Bookcases surrounded her, towering over her short frame. As she took another look at the list in her hand, jazzy Christmas music spilled from well-hidden speakers.
Joy wandered the bookshop’s aisles until she found the first book on the list. As she delicately plucked it from the shelf, an expanding ray of morning light drew her eyes upward to the large windows over the loft area, where customers flocked during business hours to study, chat with others, or simply enjoy reading. The rising sun streaked beams of light through the store, adding a new depth, a new perspective.
Like a Winter Snow Page 3