Season of Joy

by Annie Rains

  “And now you can’t put her down.” Rosalie nodded. “We can fix that.”

  We.

  Everett stilled, aware of the warm woman who smelled of Christmas trees a few feet away, the small warm dog next to his chest, and the warmth blossoming where his heart used to be.

  He should point out that there was no partnership between them, no we.

  He should point out that he wasn’t looking for anything long term, no we.

  Instead, he said, “My wife’s hobby was dressage.”

  “That’s an expensive hobby.” Rosalie opened the dog treats. She held a nugget in one hand where Tinkerbell could see it. With the other hand, she pointed her index and middle finger at her eyes. “Watch.” The word came out like a growl.

  Tink’s ears pitched toward Rosalie, and she stared at her with bird-dog-like intensity.

  “Good girl.” Rosalie gave Tink the snack and then brushed a hand over her head, touching Everett’s arm in the process.

  Her touch immobilized him. It made his heart race. It was irrational. Rosalie was a permanent resident of Sunshine, a business owner. She had roots, whereas he had no intention of staying.

  “Dogs want to have a purpose.” Rosalie dug out another treat and said in that same growly voice, “Watch.” Repeating the hand gesture toward her own eyes.

  Again, Tink’s attention focused on Rosalie. Again, she received Rosalie’s praise and the snack. Again, Rosalie’s hand brushed over Everett’s arm.

  His lungs burned from a lack of air. He couldn’t move, not even his eyes. He couldn’t remove his gaze from the delicate lines of her face.

  “We just need to give them a role in our lives—companion, protector.” Rosalie took Tinkerbell from him and put her on the floor, where the dog immediately began to yap and romp at their feet. “Watch,” Rosalie growled.

  Tink stilled, staring up at Rosalie.

  Everett stilled, staring down at Rosalie.

  “Good girl.” Rosalie knelt to give Tink a treat and praise.

  All that affection…

  It wrapped around Everett and made him long for a comfortable couch in front of a blazing fire with Rosalie by his side. He cleared his throat and straightened his glasses, trying to bring order to his wayward thoughts. I’m too old for infatuations.

  Maybe Kevin was right. Maybe Everett should date. He could spare a night or two out, and there was probably a single woman in town his age who was looking for casual company.

  As soon as Rosalie stood, Tink started barking again, albeit half-heartedly with one eye on her.

  “You try, Everett,” Rosalie said above Tink’s complaints, pressing a small dog treat into Everett’s palm. Her fingers were as soft and warm as the look she gave him. “Use a rumbly voice to tell Tink you’re the top dog here and she needs to keep an eye on you instead of barking so much.”

  Everett didn’t have much faith in the exercise, but he dutifully said, “Tink, watch.”

  The little stinker sat down and panted at him.

  “Wow, look at that.” Everett laughed.

  When he didn’t immediately give Tink the biscuit, she stood and barked at him. Once. Sharply.

  Everett started to give her the reward but Rosalie stayed his arm.

  “Tell her to do it again.” Rosalie gave his biceps a squeeze, and even through his dress shirt he could feel the unexpected strength in those small fingers. “Repeat the command, and then be fair and feed her if she earns it.”

  Tinkerbell waited for Everett to speak, watching him the entire time. It hardly seemed fair, like she knew the drill. But since the dog was staring at him when he said, “Tink, watch,” he gave her the treat.

  “It’s a miracle,” he said. Now he could take Tink to work with fewer concerns that she’d disrupt the workplace and derail his carefully reconstructed image. “You’re a lifesaver, Rosalie.”

  Before she could say any more, before he said something he’d regret to her, and before Tink could have another meltdown, he ushered Rosalie out the door.

  And when she was gone, his apartment seemed as sterile and unaffected as before.

  Except for the vaguest impression—like the scent of a Christmas tree—that warmth and happiness had been within reach.

  “What took you so long?” Kimmy asked when Rosalie climbed into the passenger seat of her older-model car.

  The gray, three-legged kitten was asleep in Kimmy’s lap. Rosalie’s sister had fallen for one of Eileen’s furry orphans and was taking her home.

  “I was about to text you to see if you needed rescuing.” Kimmy smirked. “Or more time with that handsome man. Spill. Which was it?”

  Remy’s curiosity was in sync with her sister’s. From the back seat, the dog nuzzled Rosalie’s shoulder, emitting a grumble as soft as the snowflakes falling on the windshield.

  “I gave Everett some dog-training tips, that’s all.” Rosalie wasn’t going to admit he’d shared some insight into his past. If she told her sister that, Kimmy would get ideas about romance and second chances. Rosalie was at peace with widowhood, her plate full with the launch of Sunshine Pets.

  Kimmy’s gaze searched Rosalie’s face, as if she already had romantic ideas and was looking for proof. “I’d hoped Scrooge was asking you out.”

  “Please. Let’s not go there.” Rosalie could admit to herself that she felt attracted to Everett but the last thing she wanted was for her sister to latch onto the idea. She’d never hear the end of it. “Does Everett look like the kind of guy who’d ask the delivery girl out?”

  “No.” Kimmy backed out of the parking space. “He looks like the kind of guy who’d overthink a first kiss.” She pulled out of the parking lot and turned toward the south side of town and home. “He has that intense stare. I saw him stare at you back at the store. I can imagine how it’d be. Your gazes would linger while the wheels of his brain would turn.”

  Holy how-to-read-a-situation. There had been prolonged gazes.

  But Kimmy wasn’t finished. “And you’d be staring into his eyes waiting to see what would happen, because you’re polite and a little clueless.”

  And because I’d be slow on the uptake, focused on the dog.

  “And then Everett would swoop in for a kiss you’d have had no inkling was coming.”

  Rosalie resisted the impulse to touch her lips and give her sister’s fantasy credence. Nevertheless, the notion of kissing Everett had been planted in Rosalie’s mind.

  The clouds above them parted. A star twinkled in the velvet sky. A single star as bright and shiny as Marty’s love for her had been.

  Her eyes burned with tears.

  My future wasn’t supposed to be like this. In my thirties. Alone. Starting over.

  But it was. And even the memory of her dead husband’s love couldn’t wipe away the attraction she felt for a quiet man with a loud dog.

  “Or I could be misreading the town Scrooge completely.” Kimmy laughed, unaware of the tenor of Rosalie’s thoughts. “After all, I’m the woman in the car who’s never been married.”

  Chapter Three

  It’s my first meeting, so I brought fudge.” Bitsy Whitlock set a plate of fudge in the middle of the town hall’s conference room table and sat next to Rosalie.

  Everett liked Bitsy. Fudge. No more needed to be said. He hadn’t had dinner yet.

  “And I brought dog treats.” From her seat next to his, Rosalie passed a small plastic bag to Everett. Despite the upbeat impression made by her green Christmas sweater with Rudolph’s blinking nose, Rosalie seemed tired. Her big brown eyes had circles under them that were nearly as dark as her short hair. She opened her mouth to say something and then paused and cocked her head. “What’s that sound?”

  Everyone on the Holiday Event Committee went silent. Muted yapping could be heard down the hall.

  “It’s…uhh…” Everett wondered how he could phrase the truth without looking like a jerk. “I put Tink in time-out in the bathroom with a dog chew.” Because she panicked in
her crate, and regardless of what Kevin said, Everett needed to project a businesslike impression with his committee. “The watch command you taught me only worked during the first hour this morning. And before you judge, she’s only been in there about ten minutes.” He’d waited until the last possible moment to put Tinkerbell away, hoping she’d take a nap.

  “Oh, poor thing.” Rosalie stood and swiped the treat bag. “Moving is super stressful for pets. I’ll get her.”

  “Make sure you bring my guilt back with you too,” Everett called after Rosalie, who quickly returned with Tink barking excitedly at her feet.

  Everyone admired Tinkerbell and her holiday sweater, not seeming to mind her prancing about and yapping. Finally, Rosalie sat between Bitsy and Everett with Tink in her lap. The little dog wagged her tail and stared adoringly at Everett until he gave her a friendly pat, and then she was all about the dog treats Rosalie slipped her.

  “We’ll start with the events this month before moving on to events for the first half of next year,” Everett said, dragging his attention back to his agenda. “This Friday is the tree-lighting ceremony and—”

  “The Widows Club usually sells hot chocolate.” Bitsy extended the full plate of fudge in front of Rosalie and toward Everett.

  Finally.

  Everett extended his hand. And then the meaning of Bitsy’s words sank in, and he paused midreach. “Did your club pay the city for a permit?” He didn’t recall one being issued.

  “No.” The warmth left Bitsy’s tone. She withdrew the plate. “We donate all proceeds to charity.”

  “That doesn’t mean you don’t need a permit.” Everett spoke slowly and deliberately, the way he did when he suspected someone wouldn’t be happy with his enforcement of a law.

  Rosalie leaned toward Bitsy, slanting Everett an it’s-coming-back-to-bite-you smirk. “Town hall has declared the tree-lighting ceremony a commerce-free event. Everett wouldn’t let me hand out free dog biscuits that night or flyers about my organized dog walk through Christmas Tree Lane.”

  Tension balled in his chest. Rosalie was making him out to be a heartless ogre. “I explained—”

  “Everett nixed me too.” Paul Gregory nodded. He ran an extermination business in town. “I was going to pass out magnetic chip clips with my logo.”

  Everett had no problem explaining town ordinances to Paul but he wasn’t going to be the one to tell the man that a cockroach logo on a chip clip was in poor taste.

  “What the Widows Club does isn’t commerce.” Bitsy’s smile stiffened, and she drew the fudge into the circle of her arms. “It’s charity. I can’t remember a year the Widows Club didn’t sell hot chocolate at the tree-lighting ceremony. Permitless, I might add.”

  Everett glanced toward the mayor’s wife, who was his boss’s eyes and ears on the committee.

  Barb raised her finely arched brows as if to say, If you’re picking an argument with the Widows Club, you’re digging your own grave.

  If that wasn’t an indication of the power and popularity of the Widows Club in Sunshine, Everett didn’t know what was.

  “Perhaps we can make an exception for charity,” Everett allowed carefully, eyeing the fudge. “I’ll have to check with the mayor.”

  Bitsy passed the treats away from Everett to Paul.

  “Moving on. There will be a marriage proposal at the end of the tree-lighting ceremony,” Everett continued, giving Tink more pats despite her sitting in Rosalie’s lap. He was finding he couldn’t resist the tiny dog’s big, pleading eyes. “And the bells will ring when the proposal is accepted.”

  “How romantic,” Bitsy said.

  “Super sweet,” Rosalie agreed.

  “That seems to be the consensus.” Stomach growling, Everett eyed the plate of fudge, which was being passed around the table and had only a few pieces left. “Moving on to the Christmas parade. Did we garner enough volunteers for the event, Paul?”

  “Yes.” Paul waved a sheet of paper. “Volunteers will be stationed at the high school, where the parade begins, and at the town square. The latter is the toughest job since volunteers have to make sure when the parade ends, everyone disperses quickly and efficiently. We don’t want a backup like we had last year. It took over an hour to unclog the streets and sidewalks in the center of town.”

  “I have a suggestion.” Rosalie raised her hand. “Why not have the parade wind around the town square and end on Sunny Avenue?” Where her shop was located. She smiled her unflappable smile, tired though it was. “It eliminates the logjam.”

  And showed favoritism to businesses on Sunny Avenue. Everett’s spine stiffened.

  “What a lovely idea.” Bitsy patted Rosalie’s arm. “Isn’t that a lovely idea, Everett?”

  Everyone was agreeing it was a lovely idea, just like everyone agreed ringing the town hall bells after a marriage proposal was romantic.

  Everett fought back a frown. “I’ll have to conduct an analysis and run it by the mayor for final approval.” Heaven forbid Everett found some cost associated with a new parade route.

  “I’m sure everyone will appreciate the change.” Barb was as open to pleasing constituents as her husband was. “It makes things easier on the community.”

  Everett didn’t miss her hidden message or the gentle reminder that Kevin wanted to strengthen their community.

  “Oh, and don’t forget the Widows Club has a hot chocolate stand in the town square during the parade too.” Bitsy’s voice was as gentle as her smile. “Benefiting charity, of course. And speaking of which, we work a wrapping booth for charity at the local mall. Please don’t tell me we need a permit for that.”

  The local mall being a three-story brick building on Main Street housing multiple small, independent retailers.

  “No permit for that,” Everett reassured her.

  The fudge plate bypassed Everett and returned to Bitsy with one piece remaining. “We’d appreciate you volunteering for a wrapping shift, Everett.”

  How could he refuse? Unfortunately, it didn’t earn him that last piece of fudge.

  Next on the agenda was the committee’s homework—compiling ideas for Valentine’s Day. They did a good job creatively—from wine tasting in the local library to a Cupid-themed scavenger hunt with the town’s businesses. The group was a bit deflated when Everett pointed out that none of their ideas required town hall’s formal participation.

  “Remember that we want events to build both a sense of community and Sunshine’s coffers.” Everett’s comment was about as well received as Scrooge telling Bob Cratchit he could put only one lump of coal on the fire.

  They finished the meeting by talking about Sunshine’s Easter Egg Hunt. The committee felt it should continue to be free. Everett disagreed. Had none of them checked the price of eggs recently? Rather than argue, Everett tabled the decision pending financial review and made a mental note to seek sponsorships to offset the cost of eggs.

  “Rosalie, can I have a word?” Everett asked after he adjourned the meeting. “About the parade…”

  Perhaps having heard his words, Bitsy turned at the meeting room door and stared, holding the plate with that one last piece of fudge wrapped in cellophane.

  “About the parade…” Everett lowered his voice and moved closer to Rosalie.

  “You’re going to veto my suggestion.” Rosalie put Tinkerbell on the floor.

  Yap-yap-yap.

  Tink raced around the meeting room, from Bitsy to Everett to Rosalie and back again.

  Yap-yap-yap.

  Everett caught Tink as she circled his feet, bringing a welcome silence.

  “You shouldn’t pick her up.” Rosalie crossed her arms over her chest. She plucked the small dog from his arms and set her down once more. “Let me tell you why ending the parade on Sunny Avenue is a win for you.” She barely paused to take a breath before making her argument over the sound of Tinkerbell’s barking. “There are charming and historic features on Sunny Avenue, places that are great for selfies and to start co
nversations. The lamppost clock, the barbershop pole—”

  “The bench dedicated to the town’s founding fathers,” Bitsy cut in, also at a near shout.

  Rosalie nodded. “The historic fountain in the middle of the street.”

  “And what should I tell other businesses on other streets?” His head began to pound from the shouting required to be heard. It had been an all-day occurrence, after all—people shouting over Tinkerbell’s barks. “What should I tell the businesses that aren’t going to have a parade finish nearby?”

  Tink showed no sign of quieting, although neither did Rosalie.

  “Tell them you’ll end the parade elsewhere next year,” she said.

  “That’s a brilliant idea.” Bitsy moved to Rosalie’s side.

  “And fair.” Rosalie nodded. “Plus the parade will look like a well-orchestrated event. This is a win for you and town hall.”

  The pressure to agree closed in on him. Simultaneously, the pressure to hold his ground kept his shoulders square.

  Yap-yap-yap.

  The soundtrack of his life lately. His temples pounded harder.

  “I tell you what.” Rosalie started to smile, as if preparing to sweeten the pot. “You’re obviously too busy and stressed to make a decision now.” She gestured toward Tink, who’d stopped running the racetrack and was prancing in front of Everett. “Let’s take her for a walk to Sunny Avenue. You can see it through my eyes, and I’ll give you some more training tips.”

  “Do not offer me free training,” he said quickly. No way would he allow himself to be put in a situation where it might look like he was playing favorites. “I’m open to tips.” From one business associate to another. Unable to stand her barking anymore, he picked Tink up. “I’ll walk with you, Rosalie, because this dog needs an outlet. This has nothing to do with the parade or comped services.”

  “Of course not.” Rosalie was quick to agree. “Why don’t you suit up Tinkerbell in her booties? I’ll go get Remington. He’s still at the store.”

  Rosalie hurried out the door before Everett’s stomach growled again.

  “I’m so glad you two found common ground.” Bitsy handed him the last piece of fudge and wished him a Merry Christmas.