by Linda West
She turned to discover none other than Brad Anderson!
The lift took off, and up the mountain they started. She looked back as the lift raised up higher and higher up. She would be stuck with him now for the next 15 minutes until they got to the top!
Summer was outraged.
“Really, of all people. . . You’re the last person I want to see!”
Brad looked aghast. “I should say the same after what you did to me!”
Summer went red with anger.
“Me? Me? I’m not the one that kissed another girl in front of our entire graduating class.”
Brad was equally incensed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about! You left me. You broke all of our plans and you chose modeling over our life together!”
Summer was beside herself. How dare he accuse her of ruining their relationship?! She couldn’t take one more moment of his lies.
With that, she just up and jumped off the lift. She fell with a loud yell and a dull thud onto the snowy drift below.
“OWWWWW!!!”
Brad swore beneath his breath.
He looked down at the precarious height, then jumped right off after her.
He recovered from the long fall and made his way over to her.
Summer’s head was buried in the snow and both her boots were sticking out— but only one ski.
He pulled her out of the snow bank and dusted her off. He looked around for her other ski.
“Are you all right?”
“No. I think I broke my leg.”
Brad reached to feel her leg.
“Let me help you.”
“No!” She batted at him with her ugly orange mittens. “Just get away from me. I hate you.”
Brad attempted to take off her boot to check her leg anyway.
“Summer, just let me help you.”
“No! Get away from me, Brad Anderson!” She picked up a snowball and hurled it at him.
It bounced off his head.
A look of anger came over him.
“Gosh darn your stubbornness! I’m checking your leg, whether you like it or not!”
With that, he wrestled her to the ground.
“Just stay still!”
The mittens came off and Summer fought back pushing him away from her.
“Oww! You’re taking advantage of a girl with a broken leg. I hate you, Brad the cheater, Anderson.”
“Summer, stop, stop!”
Summer was exhausted, so she did stop—even though it wasn’t because he asked her to.
He lightly felt her leg. “I think you just sprained it, thank goodness.”
Summer sniffled. The anger left Brad’s face and he actually looked like his old self—the one that really loved her.
“I never cheated on you, Summer. I don’t know why you’re saying that. It’s a weak excuse for leaving me.”
He shook his head. “I guess I’d hoped you’d have a real reason for ruining our life together.”
Summer couldn’t hold back the truth one more second.
“Brad, I found out! We kept it under wraps, but my Aunt Carol has a special gift. She overheard Earl saying how you had kissed Marybelle McGregor underneath the mistletoe in front of all our classmates! Right after you proposed to me! How could you?!”
Brad looked seriously confused.
I didn’t kiss Marybelle McGregor that night!”
“Funny how you ended up dating her for five years as soon as I left.”
Brad looked at her strangely.
Summer shrugged. “Facebook stalking.”
“I never kissed Marybelle until you abandoned me to be Miss famous, star-dating bikini-blonde-L.A.-fake kale-eating supermodel…’
Summer stopped him.
“Don’t you dare act innocent, Brad! And it counts as cheating even if you were under the mistletoe!”
Brad shook his head, and then an idea lit in his eyes. He glared at Summer.
“You’re not referring to the little girl, Murielle, the granddaughter of Earl, the lodge keeper? The plump one that had a crush on me... the ten-year-old at the time?”
“My Aunt Carol overheard Earl plainly talking to Old Man Jennings and my Aunt Carol never hears wrong. Well, except her B’s ….”
Summer stammered off into a whisper….
Memories came flooding back to her of the cute, young freckled girl with the crush on Brad being held up by her grandpa Earl, for her first mistletoe kiss. It had been adorable. Their classmates had all clapped. She’d been right there clapping alongside them.
Murielle. The child. Not Marybelle the head cheerleader.
The limitation of Aunt Carol’s gift minus the B’s and her overcompensation had become perfectly clear.
Summer raised her hand to her mouth in horror.
“I’m so sorry, Brad. I completely forgot about her. I guess I went into shock when I heard it. I thought you were cheating on me…That’s why I left!”
Her liquid blue eyes filled with tears. Her heart hurt and her leg hurt but maybe this moment was meant-to-be, all along. Maybe everything could be different now that the truth was out.
“I just thought the curse…”
He tore his eyes away from hers and scooped up her orange mittens. He helped her on with them lost in deep thought. The big diamond on her left hand was so outrageously large, he could barely get the mitten over it. He pulled and pulled and finally just gave up and tossed the mitten back down to the ground.
“The past is the past, Summer. I’m glad we cleared it up. But our futures are in front of us now.”
Brad shook his head.
“I have to get back to the lodge.”
He pulled on his skis. Just then, a roar of an engine was heard and out of the white cloud of snow emerged a Ski-Do. The young guy from the lift was now on ski patrol. He helped Summer get on the back seat, being extra careful with her leg.
“I thought you said you had skied before?”
Brad flashed by them without looking back, as he jetted down the hill.
Once more, she watched the love of her life leave her.
Chapter 23
Back at the lodge, Brad was taking off his skis and shaking himself off.
The snow had not let up and most everyone had gone inside to wait out the storm. Summer came limping around the corner with some crutches from the first aid office. Her hair was still full of snow from being in the snow bank.
She ignored Brad and kicked open the front wooden door to the lodge with her good leg.
All she could focus on now was getting the heck off this mountain. Forget that bus ride back home with the gang! She would grab Drake and have him call a limo to come get them out of there— pronto!
She would leave tonight and fly far, far away with her movie star fiancé and they would start their new life anywhere but stupid Kissing Bridge Mountain with its Marybelles and Murielles and cookies.
She jostled in awkwardly with her crutches, trying not to grab anyone’s attention.
She needn’t have worried.
Everyone in the lodge already had their attention riveted to the archway near the main fireplace. She bumped through the crowd trying to get to the bar and retrieve Drake. But he wasn’t there. She looked around, only to see Brad walk in. He didn’t look happy.
Summer followed his gaze.
Through the crowd, she could make out a group of giggling women standing in a long line leading up to the fireplace.
Drake was under the mistletoe.
He couldn’t have looked happier or more at home, as he motioned for the next woman in line to move along and get her Christmas kiss under the mistletoe.
Summer gasped.
The next woman in line was none other than Miss Big Boobs!
Summer turned to look at Brad, who now had a very angry look on his face.
Miss Big Boobs stepped forward and leaned in for a kiss.
It was a great big, sloppy, long smoochie kiss.
; The crowd gaped, and then cheered when Drake came up for air and shot the group the thumbs up sign. Cell phones clicked pictures in rapid-fire click, click, click. Her hometown crew had been courteous to her, but a movie star was fair game.
Miss Big Boobs didn’t move along though. She just grabbed Drake again and laid another big kiss on him.
And then another kiss.
And then another kiss.
And then it just got gross.
Finally, the lodge keeper, Earl, announced that the buses were leaving early to avoid the roads being shut down. It was time to go home. They had just gotten news that the storm was being upgraded to a blizzard.
The crowd dispersed as they realized that no one else was getting a turn with Drake Mason under the mistletoe tonight.
Summer watched as Drake continued to make out with Miss Big Boobs.
After all she’d been through…to have her same nightmare re-enacted almost identical to what had occurred ten years earlier. It was unthinkable.
It should have been devastating.
But somehow, it just wasn’t.
The ride on the bus back home, however, was very uncomfortable—to say the least.
Chapter 24
Later that night, after the uncomfortable bus ride back, Drake took his Mercedes and drove away.
He had the good grace, and luck, to fly off of Kissing Bridge Mountain that very night. He said he wanted to give Summer some space.
Summer lay awake all night, unable to sleep.
Her sprained ankle weighed a ton because it had a dozen ace bandages wound around it. On top of that, for some reason, Fluff was obsessed with the bandages and he was draped across her lower leg, fast asleep.
She wiggled her toes, trying to get comfortable.
She knew she shouldn’t have gone to that darn Mistletoe Ski Event. Another mistletoe disaster.
In all truth, she was relieved that she and Drake were over. She would deal with any residual relationship issues around that later. Maybe she would take to the bed for a week. Right now, she had to focus on the cookies.
Tomorrow was the Silver Bells Christmas Eve Fair and the cookie competition was fierce.
The pressure was on.
Try as she might, Summer had not managed to come up with a solution to beat Evil Martha Stewart, and now the Hell’s Kitchen Goth child as well.
Finally, she managed to doze off. Summer slept fitfully that night, fraught with nightmares of Grandma Izzy and Mrs. Beaverton mud wrestling. Gosh, she had weird dreams. But, somehow out of the mud and screams had come a sparkling conclusion. The last thing she remembered was diamonds.
Big diamonds.
Big edible diamonds.
Big Tiffany diamonds.
Summer awoke with a fire in her belly and a new hope for the Landers’ cookie future. She was a Landers, and she wasn’t about to let her mother be de-throned on her watch.
She went downstairs to see her mother and Aunt Carol already up and awake, drinking Irish coffees. Aunt Carol got up when Summer came in and made her a cup of coffee. She picked up the whiskey and poured a big bit into it and handed it to her.
So, it was going to be that kind of day.
She looked at her mom and Aunt Carol.
Mom shrugged. “We’ve been up since sunrise.” As if that explained it.
It was the morning of the competition and Summer doubted any of them had slept well either.
And so the Landers ladies began that fateful Christmas Eve morning with their heads held high—awaiting their cookie fate— while Breakfast at Tiffany’s played in the background.
Little did they know, Summer had an idea up her sleeve.
Chapter 25
As you know, the Landers ladies all had talents to compensate for the curse.
And as you remember, Summer had the talent of lucky seating. So this next bit of news will come as no surprise…
It was early Christmas Eve morning still, and Summer Landers found herself down at the local Puff and Stuff’s for a coffee and a donut. A sleepy man in a Santa hat plopped down next to her and wished her a merry Christmas.
Before Summer could reply, the man accidentally spilled his coffee all over Summer and the bench they shared.
Summer was a pretty easy-going girl, so this didn’t upset her—although the man was totally embarrassed. He got up and started dabbing the coffee off of her and the seat with his newspaper.
“I’m so sorry.” He dabbed away.
As the coffee seeped through the newspaper, Summer caught sight of a picture that indeed was a lucky catch.
It was a picture of Drake. He was brunching with his mother and father at the uber trendy new Wolfgang Puck's L.A. eatery, Le Bon Cheri.
Summer snatched up the wet paper and continued to read. The next line said…
“Drake Mason's mother is a close personal friend of Wolfgang Puck, rumored to have dated during nursery school…”
Summer smiled a smile so big her face hurt. Her lucky seating talent had paid off once again!
Chapter 26
The deal had gone smoothly. Drake was eager to keep his dirty laundry out of the tabloids.
And, of course, having Summer return her half-a-million-dollar ring would be wonderful.
Summer had asked only one small thing in return. She wanted his mother to text her Wolfgang Puck’s private number.
It seemed a win-win certainly.
Drake’s mother had been reluctant to give up Wolfgang’s personal information at first, but the six-carat Tiffany perfect diamond ring had finally won her over.
A six-carat diamond from Tiffany was a hard thing to say ‘no’ to.
And so it was, that Summer found herself talking to the most amazing marvelous chef in the whole wide world; the gourmet extraordinaire, the incomparable, Wolfgang Puck!
She explained her situation to him. She was certain if her mom’s cookies could just be adorned by his secret special diamond sugar chips that he had decorated her engagement cake with; that they would win the competition and beat Mrs. Beaverton and Evil Martha Stewart.
As luck would have it, Wolfgang also abhorred Evil Martha Stewart!
He immediately called his factory in Switzerland where he was spending Christmas with his family. He assured Summer that the diamond edible chips would be flown in special delivery especially for the contest, and arrive in Kissing Bridge by one o’clock.
The contest started promptly at four o’clock. It would be perfect.
Chapter 27
The Kissing Bridge Silver Bells Christmas Fair was one of the biggest events of the year.
The entire town turned out to purchase last-minute gifts and enjoy the holiday spirit together.
Santa Claus was taking final requests and a long line of excited children wound around the big town center and Christmas tree.
All sorts of special holiday foods and drinks were available. Old people drank hot cocoas and young people too. The teens toasted with warm apple cider spiced with cinnamon and clove.
All about the spirit of Christmas reigned pure and happy.
Only the cookie contest competitors felt the pressure.
There were ten competitors in this year’s cookie bake-off. Nine were cotton tops and one was a Goth chick wild card entry Hell’s Kitchen winner.
The competition was fierce.
Summer smoothed her apron. She had been delegated the early shift. Her job: show up and stare down the competition. Their strategy was to keep the cookies warm at home until the very last moment.
She would hold the booth down until Aunt Carol and Mom arrived with the newly-baked cookies at the last moment. Then she would get the secret ingredient from the Fed Ex post office at one o’clock, and proceed home to make the frosting so it was as fresh as possible.
Mom and Aunt Carol arrived and bustled into the booth with the cookies hidden mysteriously beneath a tin foil cover.
This year, part of the plan was to not unveil the cookies. They would spring a
surprise on the crowd with a last-minute reveal, and so they planned to create quite a stir.
Part of the pre-game early activities offered at the Silver Bell Christmas Eve Fair entailed the pre-viewing of the cookies. Many townspeople arrived early just to dwell upon the cookie entries, and many placed bets solely based on the color quality of the cookies alone.
Today they would be betting blindly on the Landers’ cookies based on past taste and winnings alone. Of course, that taste had won for the last 50 years.
The scorecard was alight now showing the betting odds ready for the big show.
The odds showed the top three contenders. Right now it was Mrs. Beaverton—40% Landers—30% and the Hell’s Kitchen child— 20%.
Summer hopped into the car and threw her crutches in the back seat. She had to go get the special package at Fed Ex due in at one o’clock sharp.
By two o’clock, Summer was still staring at Stu, the mailman, at her wit’s end. The very special package had still not come. This was disastrous. They needed the Wolfgang Puck diamond ice chips to pull off the new mysterious surprise Tiffany blue color her mother had created for the cookies this year! Without the diamond chips, they would just be the same old cookies with a different color.
Summer moaned. She stepped outside the mail centre to call Wolfgang’s Swiss factory.
Brad pulled up just then in his big black truck, and leapt out of it in one manly motion.
He stopped for a moment when he saw her, then reached in the back and gathered a large amount of packages to mail, and then walked by without looking at her.
Summer turned her back on him, “Sorry, yes it’s bad reception. I’m on a mountain. Could you please check on my package? It’s very important. Of course, I know they all are…Yes, I’ll hold. Thank you.”
Skinny Stu, the mailman, helped Brad with his packages.
“Hey Stu, what’s she upset about?”
Stu leaned in conspiratorially, “Waiting on a special delivery from Switzerland—from Wolfgang Puck. It’s late.”