by Linda West
“Wow,” Summer said, feeling its beauty tug in her chest. “It’s so, so beautiful.”
Brad turned to her in the middle of the main street. She’d never been able to stand there before, but in that moment it felt like no traffic would ever come to ruin the moment.
“Not as beautiful as you,” he said.
She smiled at him, her heart alight. So many men had called her beautiful, but when he did, it was different. He meant something deeper, something about her essence, her being, not just the way her facial features were arranged. He was her Brad and she was his Summer. She felt the warmth of his hands through his gloves, and the warmth of his heart through his loving eyes, and felt like the luckiest woman alive.
“I feel so honored that you’re going to be my wife,” he said. He turned one of his hands loose and plunged it in his pocket. “Last time I did this, there was something missing.”
“Huh?”
He got down on one knee, right there in the snow.
Tiny snowflakes danced around them in the cool wind and the sky was finally beginning to find its light.
He withdrew his hand from his pocket, holding a ring box. Summer’s heart swelled through her chest.
“Summer, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said, before he even opened the box.
Brad’s smile was as bright as the new sun when he opened the ring box and withdrew the ring.
She scrambled to take off her glove and he slid the ring onto her finger. She gasped.
There it was. The original Tiffany ring!
“Brad!” she said, overjoyed. “Our ring!”
He smiled shyly. “I kept it.”
Then she dropped to her knees in the snow and kissed him again and again.
“Yes, yes, yes!”
*****
Dodie blinked awake.
It was Christmas morning, but none of the fluttering carefree giddiness of the holiday danced in her chest. It hadn’t since Peter.
She got up, her limbs feeling heavy, and went into the en-suite bathroom to wash her face.
Christmas music wafted up from downstairs, punctuated by the laughter of small children. She guessed her cousin Jane’s son and daughter were just discovering Santa’s bounty and love for them.
She sighed deeply as she returned to her room to dress, not working out how she was going to find a smile for them, a happy word. She didn’t want to be a downer, and the thought of staying cooped up in her room with a crossword puzzle flickered through her mind.
Gosh no. That was just like Peter and his incessant need to bury himself in a crossword and ignore her as she tried to converse with him from across the room. Love had inflated in her heart and shined in her eyes, while his brows knotted and he’d tried to figure out what down word mated with Hamlet’s love.
Standing before the closet, Dodie dabbed at her eyes. They always seemed to be tear-filled these days. She wondered if she’d ever get back to the carefree woman she once had been.
She had every reason to be happy.
She was a lovely girl. Beautiful, some even called her. With strawberry blonde hair that fell past her shoulders in thick waves and gleeful green eyes, she had always been popular and never had to worry about a date. Still, the years had rolled on and she’d never really found her partner. Her other. The one.
She’d thought Peter had been that. Solid, secure, and boring, he was the antithesis of the bad boys she’d chosen in her younger years. A perfect, safe, husband-to-be. Except for the gay thing of course.
Despite all of her attempts to fit into his cookie-cutter life, it just hadn’t worked. Even if he weren’t gay. With his penchant for meals wherever he had a coupon for and an obsessive need to watch YouTube golf videos all day, Dodie just couldn’t relate. How could he do nothing all day but things for himself? People were homeless. Starving. Dying in wars. The oceans were being poisoned. How could a conscious person just do nothing?
Dodie’s first, late husband had left her well taken care of. So Dodie spent her days donating her time to charity organizations with the grand hopes of saving the Amazon rainforest from deforestation and making a difference.
Giving back.
Helping the world because it needed love, just like she had.
She wished now that she had listened to her mom’s advice and kept more of the money from the sale of her home instead of donating the bulk of it, but Dodie had true faith. Not so good a guy picker.
She selected a blue dress. Red was just too festive and so bright it assaulted her eyes. Besides, she was afraid it would accent the hollows under her eyes and the tear-wet lashes. She would have to do just as she was, for she knew that no amount of dabbing with makeup would improve the situation.
No, she didn’t look her usual, pretty self, but she was moving.
She was alive.
She would go down and get coffee and put on her best happy face.
Chapter 4
“Your eyes better be closed,” Summer teased. She held her hands over her mom’s eyes while Brad closed his fingers over Aunt Carol’s.
Summer glanced at Brad and grinned with anticipation.
She couldn’t wait to see what they thought of her gift!
Unbeknownst to them, Summer had inquired on the empty store in the Kissing Bridge Mountain upscale shopping area and found it was for sale. So she snapped it up as an extra special surprise for her mom and Aunt Carol. She was sure she’d found the perfect Christmas gift! Though it was empty, devoid of personality and color, between Aunt Carol’s glittering persona and Ethel’s gift for picking out just the right shade, Summer knew that they’d have the place looking perfect in no time.
“Okay, you can open your eyes,” Summer said.
Both Summer and Brad took their hands away at the same time and stepped back.
“Taa daa!” Summer sang out.
Ethel and Carol both looked between the store and each other, confusion clouding their faces.
“It’s a store,” Ethel said.
“It’s a bakery mom – YOUR BAKERY!” said Summer.
Aunt Carol smiled from ear to ear. “Looks like Summer bought us a job Ethel!”
They all laughed and hugged each other.
Mom was still beside herself. “Well this is quite a surprise. You shouldn’t have spent so much money Summer!”
Summer hushed her mom. “Think of it as an investment in my kids cookies future!”
She pulled a plan book she’d prepared out of her purse, doing just like she saw designers doing. Swatches and colors and pictures of completed bakeries graced the pages of the book, a veritable treasure trove of ideas.
“Look, you could have it like this, or like this, or this.”
Aunt Carol gasped in delight and Summer watched as her mom’s eyes widened, and, as she turned the pages of the book, glazed over with tears.
“Oh, Summer,” she said, her voice little more than a breath. “It’s wonderful.”
She imagined them baking cookies and cakes and offering cooking classes, filling the whole street with homely, delicious smells. Aunt Carol’s cheeks and nose had turned the same color as her hair in the cold.
“You, Miss Summer Landers, are an absolute superstar.” With that, she drew Summer into a tight hug. Soon Ethel piled in.
“Hey, Brad!” Carol called out, her voice muffled in Summer’s shoulder. “Group hug!”
Brad laughed and joined them.
Summer guessed they must look quite a sight there, the four of them huddled in front of the store; a mass of padded coats and rubber boots ankle deep in the snow, but she didn’t care. These were her people.
*****
“Pleeeeease, Aunt Dodie?” Sophie wailed.
Though Dodie was really Sophie and Alex’s first cousin once removed, their being Earl’s grandchildren, they had always called her Aunt.
Sophie held a baking book she’d just unwrapped up to Dodie’s face, pointing at a picture of brownies cut in a Christmas tree
shape.
“Pleeeease can you make holiday brownies with us?”
Dodie had been sitting on the couch by the fire, nursing a large glass of eggnog and trying not to think about Peter.
She’d also been trying not to worry about finances. Tallying up the cost of all the gifts she bought, as well as her over generous charity donations, her heart had started racing. She should get herself a job but couldn’t think of what on earth she’d do or where she’d go.
Baking.
Not her specialty but she guessed it would be a welcome distraction.
“I’ll try,” she said, “though I’m not all that good at baking.”
“Yes!” Alex said, jumping up from his crouched position and raising his fist in the air. He kept it raised and charged out of the living room into the kitchen like a superhero.
“Thanks,” Earl’s daughter Jane mouthed at Dodie. She had been run ragged by her children’s antics all morning and sank into the couch with a huge sigh.
Dodie finished off the last of her eggnog and allowed herself to be led into the kitchen by Sophie’s little hand clutching hers in a determined grip. Alex danced around the kitchen, hyped up on sugary drinks and cookies, sliding across the floor in his reindeer slippers and basically making a nuisance of himself.
“Okay, so what do we need?” Dodie said, taking the book from Sophie.
“I can read, I can read!”
Alex volunteered, skidding in their direction. He brought a pointed finger down on a random place on the page. “Easy!” he read.
Quick and Easy Brownie Recipe, the title read.
“Let’s hope so,” said Dodie. She’d never been one for baking – the cakes she baked with her kids never rose and the cookies burned all around the edges or were so irreversibly stuck to the sheet that they crumbled into smithereens with the first touch of the spatula.
She’d never even tried brownies before, but the directions looked simple enough and it was a kids’ book.
“Ingredients,” she read aloud.
“Ineegients,” Sophie said, placing herself in a position like she was ready to run a race. “I’ll get ‘em.”
“Two cups white sugar,” Dodie said.
Sophie clambered up onto the counter. “Coming right up!” She opened the cupboard only to find a load of bowls and plates. Her face fell.
Dodie rushed to her and set her down on the floor, giving her a kiss. “Hey, Soph, I don’t know where anything is in here.”
“Me either.” Sophie put her finger to her lip, thinking of a solution. “Let’s open every cupboard?”
Dodie’s eyes scanned the massive kitchen. This was going to take much longer than she thought. “Maybe we should ask Grandpa Earl?”
“Nuh uh,” Alex chimed in. “He’s sleeping and he said if we interrupt he’s gonna give me something to remember.”
Sophie and Dodie giggled. Earl always kept himself busy with the inn, stuffing it with guests who came to Kissing Bridge Mountain to escape their busy city lives. By the time he closed up for the holidays he was ready to collapse into a chair and sleep through Christmas. Jane fussed around him and cooked Christmas dinner.
So they ended up opening all the cupboards, just as Sophie suggested, and the fridge. Before long they’d gathered the sugar, butter, cocoa powder, vanilla extract, baking powder, flour, cinnamon, walnuts and salt. Dodie flicked the oven onto medium heat and Sophie began to mix away with a wooden spoon, sending flour billowing up in white clouds.
They poured the batter into a pan and Dodie let Sophie take a lick of the bowl before she washed it up in the sink. They sat around playing Sophie and Alex’s favorite card game, Alex finally settling down enough to concentrate, while the kitchen filled with the comforting smell of brownies.
“Mmmm… smells good,” Sophie said, her eyes full of life.
They played a few more hands until Dodie got up, a burning smell curling into her nostrils. “Why hasn’t the pinger gone off yet?” She hurried to the oven and looked up at the digital display to see how many minutes were left. Her heart sank as she realized she hadn’t even set it.
She threw the oven open and a gust of hot air rushed at her, carrying the smell of burned brownie with it. “Oh no!” She switched off the oven and snatched up the oven gloves, pulling the tray of brownies out and setting them on the side.
The sheet of brownie was totally black, burned so much that it was unrecognizable.
This was a true baking disaster.
Chapter 5
January
“We have to have a really large nice yard,” said Summer, clasping her hands together.
“I want flowers all around it, and a fence of course so we don’t have to worry about the kids running wild.”
“I could build a playhouse,” Brad offered.
“Perfect.” Summer closed his hand in hers as they walked across town.
He squeezed her hand and she felt the pressure of the Tiffany engagement ring press up against her other fingers.
“The pictures looked good,” he said.
“They sure did.” She smiled up at him.
It was to be the third house they’d looked at. The first house was too big. Summer had said she couldn’t imagine herself like a headless chicken trying to keep it clean. Besides, it was big enough for any kids to lose themselves in and needed some structural work on the roof.
The second was all right – clean and neat and strong enough. But it never captured their hearts. Summer had twisted her mouth and looked up at Brad to see him wearing the same expression.
“We’ll try another one,” Summer had said to the realtor.
So here they were, striding onto the third.
“Third time lucky?” Brad said hopefully.
“Let’s hope.” A giddy impatience had gripped her.
Summer wanted marriage, a house, babies, all at once. She guessed she’d buried those desires for so long, prancing about on catwalks and living the so-called high life with Drake Mason, that they all just came spilling out.
As they reached the corner, he turned to her, taking her hands in his and gazing deeply into her eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?” he asked.
“Of course!”
“Summer,” he said, his voice low and gentle. “Are you sure you want to stop modeling? To give up your career?
To come back out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“Yes,” she said forcefully. “Definitely.”
“You sure you don’t want to buy somewhere in LA?”
“This is home, Brad. LA is no place to have a family.”
She dropped his hand and turned the corner. He followed, taking her hand back up again.
“Why all these questions all of a sudden?” she asked, feeling like the wind had been taken out of her sails. “Are you having doubts?”
“No, babes,” he said. “I just want to make sure you’re happy.”
“Well I am.” She turned to him. “Happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”
“I could say the same thing.”
They walked on in amiable silence, swinging their hands together back and forth like little kids or love-struck teenagers.
A goofy grin stretched across Summer’s face. She already knew the answer before she asked the question, she just wanted to hear it, feel the way it made her heart flutter.
“And you’re sure you want to give up jetting all over the world?”
“Most definitely,” he said, without a moment of hesitation. “I want to be here with you, with the kids when we have them. Not surrounded by a bunch of people who don’t give a damn about me, away from you for weeks at a time. A pilot’s life is not as glamorous as it sounds believe me.”
Summer beamed. “I know your business will be a success. Eagle’s Peak is such an amazing ski mountain and it’s been virtually untapped. People are going to love it!”
He’d told her of his plans to start his own private carrier, to take rich folks who spent t
heir vacations on the slopes of Kissing Bridge Mountain up to the top on private planes. The money would be good, the hours would be pretty flexible, and best of all, they would be together as often as possible. Now it was his turn to beam at her encouraging words.
“Hey, look,” Summer said, pausing. “Isn’t that Dolly’s car down there?” Summer looked at the house as they approached it. It was everything she had hoped to find. With Brad by her side and the light snow falling on the rooftop, Summer thought it looked like the most beautiful house in the world.
Sure enough, it was Dolly. She stepped out of the car and waved to them. It was January now so Dolly had retired her December Elf outfit and was dressed in a lovely grey suit. Summer waved at her.
Dolly had turned out to be the best realtor either of them had ever dealt with, conjuring up a bunch of properties in tiny Kissing Bridge in the blink of an eye. Of course Dolly had lived in Kissing Bridge her whole life and so it was to be expected she knew the best places!
Summer and Brad had both agreed to keep stoney faces no matter if they liked a home or not. Neither one of them was good at keeping secrets so they fought to keep on their poker faces. Now as they neared this perfect looking house Summer had to remind herself, and Brad that even if they liked it, they had to stay dead cool and casual so that they could go ahead and bid low. At the sight of the property, she almost lost her head, but instead of jumping around and squealing, she leaned into Brad. “I want it,” she whispered.
It was two and a half stories with a third attic room peeping out of a window nestled into the brown roof. White shuttered frames were laid symmetrically on periwinkle wooden siding on the first floor, while the ground floor boasted a wrap-around porch and a beautiful stonework finish. Pristine white steps, ornate porch railings and details, and a front yard blooming with flowers perfected the home. The whole thing oozed country glamor.
“Let’s buy it,” Brad whispered back. “We’ll set it up together while we plan the wedding! Building inspection, paperwork, transfer the money, it’s wrapped up.”
Summer grinned up at him. “Well you’ve just got all this figured out, haven’t you?”