Snowflake Wishes (Holly Springs Romance Book 1)

by Kasey Stockton

  “You got it,” Joey said, turning for the stove.

  My phone had been buzzing all morning in my pocket but I didn’t want to be rude to Madison, so I’d let it go unanswered. I was sure there were going to be a million emails waiting for me and probably ten missed calls from Mark, but he could wait. I had nothing to report on the replacement company yet, and I definitely hadn’t evicted Madison, either.

  Either way, Mark was not going to be happy.

  I decided not to shower again by the time I got upstairs. I changed my clothes and wiped the chocolate from my forehead with a grumble. How long had that been there?

  Grabbing my car keys from the hook upstairs, I went back down to pick up my burger. I had a date at the library and I wasn’t going to miss it.

  7

  Jake

  The streets filled early with people preparing the town for the big Christmas festival. Speakers along Main Street played Have a Holly Jolly Christmas and floats were seen here and there getting last minute touch-ups. I’d gone to the library hoping to run into my grandma again, but she wasn’t there. Another older woman sat in her chair. I’d sat outside and eaten my burger instead.

  It was good, but it wasn’t the best burger I’d ever eaten. My dinner from The Pub had been a lot better. In fact, the sandwich Madison had made me after I hit her in the face with hot sauce had been better than this one as well.

  I hated to say it, but part of the problem with The Bell was Joey. It had to be. He made mediocre food, and everyone probably chose to eat elsewhere because of it.

  Or maybe I was exaggerating. It was only one burger.

  I walked down the sidewalk as families and groups of people got together and set up chairs along the street. Madison hadn’t been kidding. It seemed like the entire town was out for this parade. In fact, my grandmother was probably around somewhere, too.

  I stopped where I was and scanned the crowds, but no one with white hair was also wearing purple-rimmed glasses. There was something about those purple glasses that jogged my memory, but I couldn’t quite place it. I started down the sidewalk again, my hands slung in my jacket pockets, and watched for her.

  I didn’t have an actual plan if I did run into her, but that would come later. I just knew I wanted to see her.

  “Ugh, I hate this song.”

  The grin fell on my lips of its own accord. After an entire morning sharing a kitchen with her, I felt pretty confident I’d know Madison’s voice anywhere. Especially with a side of derision.

  “It’s not that bad,” Patrick said behind me.

  I listened to a few measures. I had to agree with Madison, We Wish You a Merry Christmas was kind of an obnoxious song.

  “Yes it is,” she argued. “It’s literally everywhere. We couldn’t escape it if we tried.”

  Chuckling, I turned to find her carrying a tray of her cake pops.

  “Those turned out really nice,” I said.

  She looked surprised to see me. Evidently, she had no idea I was right beside her.

  “Did you eat one yet?” Patrick asked, holding his tray out for me. “Like crack, man.”

  Choosing a lopsided bell that I was one hundred percent sure I had made, I bit off the bell in one bite. Yeah, so Patrick wasn’t kidding. This thing was good.

  “whoa,” Madison said, her sleek, dark eyebrows raised. “That’s a mouthful.”

  Patrick elbowed me in the side and I coughed, bringing my hand up to cover my mouth. “What did I tell you?” he asked, grinning.

  “Yep,” I said, swallowing. “Super good.”

  “That’s enough, guys, they’re just cake pops.” Madison turned toward the crowd and started handing them out.

  “She doesn’t like the compliments,” Patrick said, sidling up beside me. “But I don’t care. Someone should tell her how great she is.”

  “I think that’s your job,” I said.

  He watched Madison laughing with a dark-haired woman and her kids. She gave the woman two pops and then laughed again, her smile radiant. She clearly fit in well here.

  Patrick sighed. “Yeah, I don’t know. I think it’s over.”

  I stilled. This was awkward. Why was he telling me this?

  “I tried to break up with her a few nights ago, actually, but she wouldn’t let me. I just don’t know how to say that I don’t think we’re progressing at all.”

  How did I tell him that he should stop talking? I mean, the guy was super nice and all, but I didn’t know him. His relationship was absolutely none of my business.

  “And there’s another woman,” he said, “who works at the elementary school who’s been giving me eyes for ages, man. Ages.”

  Alright, now he really needed to stop.

  “But I’m tied up in this.” He gestured to Madison with his hand in an encompassing wave. “I just don’t want to hurt her. Not when she’s dealing with all of this other stuff right now.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Finally. Something I actually wanted to know.

  “Yeah. You know her dad died a year ago, right?”

  How would I possibly know that?

  “And she’s losing her diner. She’s gotten these notices but nothing she tries is actually bringing people in.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. He shot me imploring eyes and I clamped my mouth shut. I was not about to tell this guy to break up with his girlfriend. It was none of my business anyway.

  “Good luck,” I said, watching Madison move down the line of spectators, handing out her bells.

  Patrick slapped me on the back, nearly knocking the wind from me. “Thanks, man.” I heard him sigh while he walked away and I couldn’t help but chuckle. I turned to walk down the sidewalk, barely jumping out of the way before I bowled over a kid.

  “Hey, mister!” the boy hollered. His eyes grew wide when he took me in; I leaned down. It was my little friend from yesterday who was now twenty dollars richer.

  “You enjoying the parade?” I asked.

  He watched me, confused. “It hasn’t started yet.”

  “Well, the floats haven’t, I just mean—” I glanced around. Yeah, he was right. It was a dumb question.

  “I didn’t see you today on my street. Why didn’t you come watch Mrs. Hart again?”

  “Hey keep your voice down,” I said.

  “Why? Are you doing something bad?” His little face fell. He gasped. “Are you a bad guy?”

  “What? No! Of course not.”

  “Then why were you watching Mrs. Hart? And why did you give me twenty bucks to make me go away?”

  The kid was really loud for such a young boy. I glanced around and caught an older woman frowning at us.

  “Listen, you have a good night. I’m going to go.”

  “Why?” he said, following me.

  “Where are your parents?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you go find them?”

  “They sent me to buy a hot chocolate.”

  So I wasn’t the only one who bribed this kid for a few minutes of peace. “Well, maybe you should go buy your hot chocolate then before they start to wonder where you’ve gone.”

  Madison came up beside me then, her tray empty. “Bradley, are you lost?” she asked, leaning down.

  He tilted his head to the side and nodded slowly. He really knew how to turn on the cute when he wanted to. “Is this man bothering you?” she asked.

  Bradley nodded again.

  I scoffed. The punk was a mastermind.

  She reached out a hand for him after shooting me a disapproving look. “Come on, let’s go find your parents.”

  I stared after them a moment longer before she shot a wink over her shoulder, and I found myself growing warm. Which was odd. It had to be somewhere around thirty-five degrees.

  I turned to watch the parade and felt chagrined by Fred’s Hot Sauce truck rolling down the road. It was blaring a rendition of Have a Spicy, Spicy Christmas while Fred tossed coupons from his window. One of them fluttered near my feet and I picked it up, shoving it in my pocket. I was neve
r going to be able to forget that moment when I’d tried to throw something into the trash from across the street.

  I made my way toward the large tree at the end of the parade route and watched the floats. Each one was unique in a cutesy, small-town way. I wasn’t about to admit this to Madison, but I found the whole town event thing kind of nice. There was a level of familiarity between the people here that I’d never seen before anywhere else.

  It was refreshing.

  Two white horses made up the end of the parade, sporting Santa Claus and the Missus. They rode down to the giant tree and hung an ornament there, which forced the crowd to cheer. Wow, the people of Holly Springs really did love their traditions. I scanned the crowd for a woman with long, dark hair and a tray of bells, and found her chatting with an older man on the other side of the street. She was absolutely radiant, and clearly in her element.

  I snapped a picture of her smiling at the older man and caught the perfect moment where her arm was extended with a flawless bell. One of her own, no doubt. If she never got around to her photo shoot with her friend, maybe she’d want this one.

  I couldn’t help but pity her. No wonder she hated Christmas music. She was probably having a tough time coping with the anniversary of her father’s death.

  A woman approached a podium next and her voice replaced the Christmas music over the loudspeakers. Tuning her out, I ignored the mayoral speech and made my way closer to the tree. Madison and Patrick had disappeared—not that I was stalking them—and I’d yet to find Mrs. Hart anywhere. Hot chocolate wasn’t really my thing, either, so maybe it was time to call it a night and get some real work done.

  Sighing, I pivoted back toward The Bell. These parties were probably a lot more fun when you had someone to enjoy them with.

  * * *

  Madison

  “That’s the last of them.” I let the tray hang loose from my hand after Ivy took the last of my cake pops—she’d looked like she needed it—and met up with Patrick on the sidewalk. “Let’s put these trays away. I need to grab my ornament.”

  He nodded, following me toward The Bell. The diner was officially closed for the day, but I was planning on opening it up after the festival to snag the late night-cap types who chose to end their day with a cup of hot chocolate. I had the peppermint variation in stock. The Pub probably didn’t carry peppermint.

  We stowed the trays in the back kitchen and I picked up the snowflake ornament my dad and I had been putting on the tree my whole life. It was a difficult thing to do alone for the first time ever. Even when I was away at school, I came back to Holly Springs for Christmas in time to hang the ornament. It had always brought us good luck before. That is, up until last year.

  “Hey, Mads, can you wait a second?”

  Patrick had an odd lilt to his voice. He approached me slowly. “I think we need to talk,” he said apologetically. His voice was unnaturally high.

  Oh, no. It was happening. I was not ready for this. Why would he choose tonight of all nights to force me into a commitment? He knew I was struggling.

  He came toward me slowly, his hands raised in surrender. What was I supposed to say? The guy had been pushing for a closer relationship for months now. It could be argued that I owed him a little give on my part, but I was a firm believer that no one should be pressured into a relationship they weren’t ready for.

  And I was not ready.

  “Listen, Patrick—”

  “No, Mads. You’ve got to let me say it. I know it’s a hard time of year for you and I want to make this as quick and painless as possible.” His gaze was direct.

  Wait a second, what did he say? He wants to make it quick and painless? My breath caught and my heart started beating quickly.

  “We’ve had a lot of fun. And I will always care for you, Mads, you know that. But I just think—”

  “Patrick.”

  “—that you are in a place right now where your focus is—”

  “Patrick.”

  “—on yourself. Which is not a bad thing!” He threw his hands up even further and I grabbed them, startling him.

  “Patrick, I get it,” I said soothingly. “You don’t want to wait around anymore.”

  He watched me dubiously, his teddy bear face forming a frown.

  How was I going to explain to him that it was okay? Yeah, it stung. Break-ups were never easy. But this relationship wasn’t working, and while I had to figure out my own life, I couldn’t expect him to wait around forever.

  “It’s unfair of me to expect you to just wait until I’m ready.”

  “Yeah, but I care about you,” he said, squeezing my fingers. “I want you to be happy, Mads. But I think I’m not the person who is going to make you happy.”

  How did I confirm what he said without sounding like a total brat? It wasn’t about him. It was all my fault the relationship hadn’t worked. He’d been patient and caring. But I was not about to deliver the it’s not you, its me line to Patrick. Maybe if I pointed out the cute girl who had just started working at the elementary school; she’d been coming into the diner for dinner sometimes and seemed mellow and sweet. She was probably the perfect fit for Patrick’s goodness.

  But that would be weird, wouldn’t it?

  He sighed. “What happens next?”

  I let go of his hands. “We’ll always be friends, Patrick. You can’t change that now. Not after twenty years.”

  He nodded, but his solemn eyes caused my heart to turn over. This was probably hurting him more than it was me. I mean, we had dated off and on over the last five years, but never really seriously. And the poor guy had liked me all through high school—a fact I found out awkwardly during our first kiss and would have been fine to never know. I had dated Adam Ferris all through high school and never once looked at Patrick that way.

  But Adam left Holly Springs after high school, like most people do, and we never saw each other much after that. Except, of course, for the random encounter when he was home visiting his parents.

  “Thank you for being honest with me,” I said, trying to temper the situation. He could have sat on this through the holidays. At least he ripped the Band Aid off now and got it over with. I couldn’t stand false pretenses or walking on eggshells.

  He glanced away, his laugh stilted. Guilt, perhaps? I chose not to examine that too closely.

  “Want me to walk you to the tree?” he offered.

  I drew a deep breath. I needed to place my dad’s ornament, and it would be a lot easier if I could do it alone. “That’s okay, but thanks.”

  I hugged him one last time and watched him leave. The bell over the diner door sounded, reverberating in the silence after Patrick was gone. I glanced around the diner. It was small, but cozy. I filled my lungs with the smell of my childhood. Dad had made the best burgers around and people drove all the way from the resorts just for one of The Bell’s Famous Burgers. But no one did that anymore. Ever since we’d had to start relying on the people of Holly Springs to keep afloat, we just weren’t keeping up.

  And I didn’t know what to do about it.

  I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. Loud clapping met my ears from outside. Mayor Chung must have finished her speech. I should probably get out there if I wanted to be back in time to open the diner for customers.

  The door opened suddenly and I leapt back, but not before a large force rammed into me, knocking me from my feet.

  Jake Tyler.

  Fluorescent lights blared into my eyes but the weight of the six-foot-two cover model was evenly distributed over me and I couldn’t budge.

  “Hey, want to hop off?” I asked through shallow breaths. He was pushing on my lungs and they felt like they were about to implode.

  “Sorry!” He rolled off of me, lying beside me on the laminate floor. “Kind of knocked the wind out of me.”

  I turned to look at him, my eyebrow raised. I drew in a deep breath and chuckled. “Yeah, you think?”

  He turned his head sharply, catching m
y eye and I stilled. I felt connected to him somehow, though I couldn’t explain why.

  He chuckled, breaking the tension. “Oh man, I really didn’t see you. You should think about maybe taking off part of that painting.” He indicated the glass door. I’d given Tessa free rein of the windows for a holiday picture and she’d painted an elaborate Christmas scene with Santa in his sleigh flying over rooftops and smoky chimneys. A set of reindeer were perfectly centered across the door, effectively blocking the glass completely.

  “Decapitate the reindeer?” I asked, pushing myself up on my elbows. “Geeze, no wonder little Bradley was so scared of you. What kind of monster are you?”

  He mirrored my pose, resting back on his own elbows and looking between the front door and me. “That kid is a menace. And I never suggested decapitating anything. I’m not the one who hates Christmas.”

  Bradley was a little troublemaker, but Jake didn’t need to know that. And I didn’t hate Christmas. I loved it.

  I got to my feet, ignoring the desire to shake my arms and loosen them out. “I’ve got a town tradition to take part in. If you’re finished with the insults, I’m going to go.”

  “What tradition?”

  I shook my head. “Just a little thing we do every year. What did you think of the parade?”

  “The white horses for Santa and his little lady were a nice touch.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, well, I’m glad you approve.”

  “Hey,” he said, pulling on my arm. “Why so salty? I’ve enjoyed the little town event tonight.”

  “So that’s why you’re calling it a night?” It wouldn’t even technically qualify as night, probably, it was still so early. And what was his deal? He said he was here to see his grandma and yet I haven’t seen him interact once with an elderly woman. All he did during the parade was meander down toward the tree and back. The guy was a mystery and I really needed to quit thinking about him.

  He was bound to leave soon, anyway. Everyone did.

  “I just don’t know anyone.”

  I tried to ignore the burning sensation of his hand loosely holding my arm. “And why forge relationships when you’re about to head back home?”