Christmas Kisses and Cookies: A Fabulously Funny Feel Good Christmas Romantic Comedy (****Newly Edited Sept 2016 - Plus Secret Cookie Recipe!****)

by Linda West

  Summer paced back and forth in front of the store trying to appear sexy with her limp, in case Brad was watching.

  Brad looked out the window at Summer, who was hobbling back and forth sexily.

  She still looked beautiful— even angry and wounded.

  He knew the Lander ladies must have been sweating the cookie competition. He knew full well what this contest meant to them. He and Summer had dated for four years before she up and left for no good reason and never looked back. They hadn’t held onto their men well, but they sure did hold on to that prestigious blue-ribbon cookie crown.

  Some of his fondest memories had been scrambling to help them the night before the cookie contest; listening to Christmas music and wrapping gifts under the tree in anticipation of Christmas Day. He’d been the Landers ladies’ resident guy and carried all their heavy groceries and made sure the home fire stayed lit and full of logs. He loved those times.

  He almost felt bad for Summer. The whole town had heard about Mrs. Beaverton employing the help of Martha Stewart. The poor Landers didn’t have a chance.

  She was gosh darn Martha Stewart!

  Chapter 28

  By three o’clock, time had run out and Summer had no time left… so she lied.

  “Of course I got the package, Mom no worries…ahh…traffic’s bad.” She looked around the empty streets while she talked on the phone. Of course, everyone was at the fair.

  “I’m almost done with the frosting and I’ll be right there.”

  “Drat!” She would just have to go home and make the frosting and hope that her mom’s color gift and Tiffany blue chic would be enough—not that anyone ever heard of Christmas bell cookies without the bells.

  “Drat!” She needed those Wolfgang Puck diamond chips for the bells!

  Summer drove home and hopped quickly into the house. She flung her coat and scarf and crutches aside and pulled on her apron.

  Fluff came walking in sleepily and hopped up on the counter to be pet.

  Summer kissed his head, then shooed him away for the moment.

  “I love you, Fluff, but I have to work!” She pulled out the ingredients for the frosting she had made so many times before. Grandma Izzy’s trusty book lay open more in honor than for reference. Vanilla, milk, sugar, confectionary sugar, and the vial of the special Tiffany blue color her mother had spent the last few nights perfecting.

  The kettle whistled and Summer made herself a cup of coffee and surveyed her work. The frosting was perfect. She tasted it. Exactly liked Grandma Izzy’s— almost.

  Now that she wasn’t an alcoholic, Summer decided the coffee needed some whiskey if she was going to face the wrath of her mother. She found the bottle of whiskey, but the whiskey was all gone. . . it figures; just when she needed it most!

  She had promised them a shoe-in winner with Wolfgang Puck’s special delicious diamond-chip edibles, and now she had nothing!

  She poured a bowl of milk for Fluff, and sipped her coffee. She went to close the cabinet door when she spotted an old bottle of vanilla liqueur that had been in the back of the cupboard, pretty much since she could remember. She pulled it out from the back of the cupboard. She poured a bit into her coffee. She tasted it. Mmmmm, delicious!

  Her phone rang and she rushed to answer it.

  “Yes, this is Summer. . .Yes, I’m waiting on a package. . .What do you mean ‘They closed the mountain road down and they can’t deliver it’?!”

  Fluff was walking around the counter by the uncovered frosting. She hissed at him to get him away from the mixing bowl. With a dramatic leap, Fluff jumped off, and with a flick of the tail, he knocked the old vanilla liqueur over…

  Summer was too involved with her phone call to pay attention.

  “Any chance they can just go around the tree?”

  The vanilla liqueur emptied into frosting bowl; drip, drip, drip…before it toppled over and off of the table onto the floor and landed with a big thud next to Fluff.

  Fluff meowed loudly.

  Summer closed her eyes.

  “I see. Thank you anyway.”

  Summer threw her phone into her purse, defeated. In a daze, she covered the frosting with plastic wrap and hobbled out the door.

  She never knew that in that magical miraculous moment of vanilla liqueur, and the swish of Fluff’s tail, that the ghost of Grandma Izzy had come to the rescue.

  As I mentioned, the Landers Ladies didn’t lose easily.

  Chapter 29

  The judge was seated at his judging throne that had been erected especially for the event.

  Mom was tending the booth and making sure the cookies were not tampered with. They were covered up still, mysteriously. Many of the onlookers had already tried to lift the tin foil off and peer underneath. But Mom shooed them away. This was a competition, after all!

  Aunt Carol walked down the aisle of cookie competitor booths, casually perusing the competition. Aunt Carol’s gift was a Godsend in these important pre-competition times. With her ears wide open, she listened to the town folks’ commentary on the cookie viewings, trying to gage their odds of winning.

  Mrs. Myers cookies looked, as usual, unprofessional. She had made Santa cookies, which were nice enough, but the red was a muddy hue, and goodness knows what they tasted like; if her colors were so mediocre. Each year she entered and each year she lost, but she still kept her spirits high, despite each defeat. The Goth chick from Hell’s Kitchen had decorated her cookies black! They were supposed to be “A representation of bad kids getting coal,” Aunt Carol had overheard her say to Earl, the lodge keeper.

  Aunt Carol didn’t think they needed to worry about that. No matter how good those cookies tasted, the judge wouldn't be able to get past that gruesome black color.

  The rest of the booths were filled with out-of-town contestants because most of the regulars in town had given up. There was no other cookie competition nearly as relevant as the Silver Bells Christmas Eve Fair Cookie Contest.

  Most of the small town of Kissing Bridge Mountain had gathered for this most important annual event. Contestants had their fans, and of course the betting was a very popular part of the fair. The scoreboard was all lit up with Christmas lights.

  Even though Mom and the Landers had won every past year—except last—she was coming out way below Mrs. Beaverton in the odds.

  The news had leaked out around town that Martha Stewart had been coaching Mrs. Beaverton, so her odds had gone up!

  The scoreboard currently showed the odds at

  Goth chick—whose name was Josephine Jamison, at 20%—Ethel Landers was next, with 30% and Mrs. Beaverton was sitting in first-place odds at 50%.

  Summers hopped up to the back of the booth with the frosting. Her mother was a worried mess.

  “Oh Summer, thank goodness you’re here.” She looked at the frosting and dipped a finger in.

  “Oh, you outdid yourself, Honey. This is wonderful – and the color, I’m very happy with it! The diamond-chip Wolfgang Puck edibles are going to be exquisite—the feather in our cap—our blue-ribbon winner’s cap!”

  Summer smiled weakly. “Let’s get started frosting the cookies, Mom, and then I’ll grab the package out of the car so no one gets a peek.”

  Mom smiled broadly. “Great idea, Darling!”

  Aunt Carol came bustling in. “I don’t think we have any real contenders, except Mrs. Beaverton. I couldn’t get through the crowd to even get a glimpse of her cookies, it’s so crowded…”

  Mother waved it away.

  “No matter, Carol! We have the secret weapon!”

  Summer realized that she was going to have to tell them the truth. Soon.

  A tree had fallen and blocked the mail truck from coming. Wolfgang Puck was not showing up to save the day.

  She couldn't bear to disappoint them both and tell them that the special diamond ice chips from Wolfgang Puck that were going to seal the win—just weren't going to show up.

  It was 3:40 and the competition was about
to begin at 4:00 sharp. Aunt Carol whispered in her ear. “I heard about the tree blocking off the road up the mountain…You did get the package, right?”

  Summer looked at her sheepishly.

  Aunt Carol groaned beneath her breath. Sometimes the gift of eavesdropping was a tough burden to bear.

  Mom was exuberant. “Summer, go get the chips. We’re ready!”

  With that, the official Silver Bell Carrier, this year it was Dolly, still in the elf outfit, rang the bell to indicate the ten-minute mark. It sounded more like a death knell to Summer.

  Summer stood planted in the booth not knowing what to do. Mom stared at her expectantly. “Summer, go get them, Honey. The competition is about to start!”

  The look on Summer’s face told her everything. She looked back and forth at the blank faces of Aunt Carol and Summer. They had nothing to say.

  It suddenly dawned on Mother that there were no Wolfgang Puck chips coming to save the day—no surprise super special diamond delicious chips to out-best Martha Stewart.

  She glared over at the Beaverton booth.

  “I can’t tarnish the Landers Legacy, I’m going to throw in the cookie dough and drop out now.”

  Summer tried to encourage her, but what could she say? They were doomed.

  It was going to be another humiliating loss and all because of a downed tree and the Evil Martha Stewart.

  Mom collapsed into a chair and put her hands to her heads. “I'm going to have a nervous breakdown.”

  Summer patted her mother’s back and tried to reassure her.

  “Don't worry, Mom. The cookies are still the best tasting in all of Vermont, if not beyond. And that Tiffany color—so modern, yet chic!”

  Aunt Carol took this moment to say something very profound.

  “Ladies, no matter what happens, you're the most wonderful women I've ever known. I love you both. This will not reflect on how I feel about either one of you, or Christmas. I suggest we buckle our seatbelts and prepare for a bumpy cookie ride.”

  Mom continued to shake her head.

  Summer added, “Come on, Mom. Aunt Carol is right. We’re all here together! Christmas is all about love and we already have that.”

  She tried to get her mom to smile. “Right, Mom?”

  Summer wished she could do something to cheer her up.

  Just then, a large gust of wind stirred up the snow and sent snowflakes flying in many flurries like magical floating doves.

  Dolly rang the bell, indicating five minutes until the official judging.

  When the flurries cleared, Summer looked to see that the gust had come from a small plane that had just landed on the field beside the fairgrounds.

  A moment later, Brad leapt out of the plane with a box under his arm and started to run in their direction.

  The townspeople all stared at the commotion. And of course, everybody wondered what was in the box.

  Chapter 30

  The townspeople were enthralled by this extra excitement before the big competition.

  It was obviously a very special gift that would cause Brad Anderson to have almost missed the cookie competition. By now, everyone knew that the roads had been blocked off leading up to Kissing Bridge Mountain.

  What was so important that Brad had flown off the mountain to go get it in the middle of the Silver Bells Christmas Eve Fair?

  Suddenly, a squealing scream sounded out of the crowd, and Miss Big Boobs burst from the crowd and came running toward Brad with her arms outstretched. Her big boobs bumped up and down and up and down and caused quite a stir in their own right.

  This was turning out to be quite the Silver Bells Fair! Miss Big Boobs threw herself into Brad’s arms, causing the box to fall. Brad dove to catch it before it hit the ground. The crowd oohed and awed in appreciation of the catch. Miss Big Boobs began to tug on the package with both hands.

  “Oh Brad, is that my engagement ring? Let me see!”

  A new murmur ran through the crowd. And then an expectant hush. Brad's mouth dropped from the big smile he had been grinning and he turned as red as Santa’s coat.

  “Ahh… no, actually.” He bent over and whispered to her, “We broke up. I thought you left with Drake Mason.”

  Miss Big Boobs was enjoying all the attention. She decided to milk the moment; she feigned a horrified look and screamed as if she had been stabbed by the news. The entire town shook their heads. What was Brad Anderson up to now?

  Brad caught site of the clock. It was three minutes to the start of the competition.

  Brad looked at Miss Big Boobs and said sincerely, “I'm so sorry. I thought I made it clear. We’re broken up. You mauled Drake Mason in front of the whole town. I have to go now.” With that, he left her standing there, and turned toward the competition booths.

  Then he ran as fast as he could toward the Landers’ booth.

  The whole town turned, as if one.

  First, the Landers’ covered their cookies to keep them mysterious and so nobody could get a look—which was one of the most fabulous things about the cookie contest. And now Brad Anderson flying out of nowhere and bringing a mysterious box?

  It was all too much excitement for one small town!

  As Brad leapt over the Landers’ booth with the box, it was so quiet, you could hear the snowflakes hit the ground.

  Ethel Landers cleared her throat and stepped forward and asked the question everybody wanted to know.

  “What's in the box, Brad Anderson?”

  Brad blushed when he realized the entire town was focused on him now. He cleared his throat.

  “A package… for Summer.”

  A murmur went through the crowd at this new information. All eyes turned toward Summer.

  Summer's mouth fell open. She looked at the box, and then her family.

  “It’s from Switzerland!”

  Aunt Carol jumped up and down and screamed, “Wolfgang Puck! Suck it up, Beaverton!”

  She stuck her tongue out at Wily Junior for effect. The entire crowd went wild. Everybody started talking at once.

  The news that the Landers had pulled Wolfgang puck out of thin air at the last moment changed everything.

  The odds keepers at the scoreboard began flipping the numbers— flip, flip, flip. The flippers couldn't flip quickly enough. Within seconds, new odds were posted.

  Mrs. Beaverton had Evil Martha Stewart but the Landers had the ultra gourmet himself, Wolfgang Puck!

  They now stood at equal odds.

  Summer looked up at the board. 50% Landers, 50% Beavertons. The Goth chick from Hell’s Kitchen had been pushed down into oblivion and no longer even showed on the board.

  She screamed out in anger as her name fell in the ranks. “You’re all getting coal. Coal!”

  Never had the cookie competition been this exciting and this fierce.

  People waved their money and quickly placed new bets as the clock ticked to one minute before the starting bell.

  Mom watched the clock tick toward the last second, then threw off the tin foil cover dramatically and unveiled the cookies.

  A gasp went up through the audience. They were stunningly beautiful!

  So modern.

  So chic.

  So Tiffany.

  A crowd gathered to gaze in appreciation. The Landers women had outdone themselves. They had chosen Christmas bells as their cut-out cookie shape, and mom had made up the softest loveliest Tiffany blue color that looked ever so enchanting on the bells.

  The three Landers stepped back and looked at their friends admiring their cookies. They were beautiful.

  Never had the Landers ventured from the traditional green and red combo. None of the contenders, in fact, had ever ventured from the standard red and green cookie combo—other than Goth chick who was just a random wild card.

  A hush had come over the crowd in anticipation of what might come next.

  All they needed was the coup de gras now, the Wolfgang Puck special diamond replica sweets for the bells.


  Summer opened the box and undid the plastic tie to reveal the chips. But instead of the beautiful special diamond chips, there was only a sparkling shivering pool of melted liquid at the bottom of the box.

  Alas, the magical diamond chips had melted away during transit.

  Mom let out her breath so hard it sounded like a whale horn, and Aunt Carol had to steady her from falling to the ground.

  This was a game changer.

  Summer looked at Brad. “I'm so sorry, Summer. I had no idea.” They stared at the melted diamond chips. Even melted, they were beautiful.

  Summer shook her head and reached her hand out to touch Brad.

  “It's okay, Brad. It doesn't matter. Thank you so much for doing this…it means so much to me, and my mom and Aunt Carol.”

  Her mom was now being fanned by Aunt Carol, more to keep the stares away than cool her.