Mistletoe Cottage

by Debbie Mason

  She went to her grandmother and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Sorry, Nonna. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It’s just when I saw Mia so close to the flame under the burner…” She kissed her grandmother’s cheek.

  Mia’s eyes flicked to Sophie; then she took a flyer off the harvest gold refrigerator and went back to the table.

  Her grandmother put down the wooden spoon and patted Sophie’s face. “You eat. You feel better, sí?”

  Of course, because food was a magic cure-all in Rosa’s eyes. Sophie smiled, reaching past her grandmother for the yellow soup bowls. “Do you have time to eat with us?”

  “You think I’m going to work on your first day home with the bambina? I called Louisa and Sylvia. They’re good girls. I trust them.”

  Sophie chewed on her bottom lip, casting a sidelong glance at her grandmother, who bent to take a loaf of bread from the oven. She cleared her throat, hating to ask for anything more, but she didn’t really have a choice. At least if she worked at the deli, she could keep Mia with her. “Nonna, are you hiring?”

  “No. Your brother, he’s worse than Giovanni. Cut, cut, cut the expenses. That’s all he does.” She made slashing motions with her hand then frowned. “Perche?”

  Sophie forced a smile, ladling soup for Mia into the bowl. “No reason,” she responded to her grandmother’s why. “I just thought, if you needed help, I could work a few hours for you.”

  Rosa waved a dismissive hand. “You need to rest, get some meat on your skinny bones.” She glanced over her shoulder at Mia then raised her eyebrows at Sophie and tapped her fingers and thumb together to mime talking. “Spend time with your bambina.”

  The idea of spending time with Mia outside of a car sounded wonderful. Sophie couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a real holiday. Maybe it’s what they both needed. They had food and a roof over their heads. She fingered the twenty-four-carat-gold St. Peter’s medal at her neck. Her grandmother had given it to Sophie the morning of her Confirmation. It’s the only thing she had left to pawn. If she shopped carefully…

  She walked to the table with Mia’s bowl of soup. “You have to let me contribute something, Nonna. I don’t feel right—”

  “Don’t talk foolish,” her grandmother said, placing the bread she was slicing into a basket.

  No one ever won an argument with Rosa, so Sophie let it go for now. “I’m just going to move this until after you eat,” she told Mia, picking up the flyer to set the bowl in front of her.

  Sophie glanced at the paper. There was something familiar about the stone cottage in the photo. The surrounding trees and exterior were decorated for Christmas. As were the living and dining rooms featured in two smaller interior shots below. Old Mia would have been squealing with delight. She loved Christmas.

  At the reminder of the upcoming holidays, Sophie’s heart squeezed. She’d never been able to spoil Mia like she’d wanted to, but unless she got a job, Santa would be skipping their house altogether. At least this year they would be spending the holiday with family.

  Mia tapped the flyer and looked up at Sophie with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. Other than with Liam and the Gallaghers’ black cat, it had been weeks since she’d seen anything besides fear and distrust in her daughter’s eyes. It felt like a breakthrough, and Sophie’s heart lightened. “It’s a pretty cottage, isn’t it? Look, there’s even an Elf on the Shelf.” She bit her lip. She probably shouldn’t have pointed out the elf in the pink skirt sitting on a mantel above a cozy stone fireplace. Mia had gotten her elf at the staff Christmas party last year and named it Trina. Trina had been lost in the fire along with the rest of their Christmas decorations.

  Mia pursed her lips and shook her head, taking the flyer from Sophie. She turned it over and tapped again.

  “Sit,” Rosa said, placing a bowl of steaming soup in front of Sophie and the basket of bread on the table. She glanced at the flyer. “It’s a raffle. Half the proceeds go to Greystone. The other half to Mothers Against Drunk Driving.”

  Now Sophie knew why the cottage looked familiar. “This is Kitty and Ronan’s cottage, isn’t it?” The couple had begun their married life in the cottage before moving into the manor when Ronan’s father died. A ten-minute walk west of Greystone were several cottages and bungalows. They were rented to guests or used by the extended Gallagher family when they came to visit.

  “Sí,” her grandmother said, her voice tight, and then she rolled her eyes. “They named it Mistletoe Cottage for the raffle.”

  Sophie read the rules. “You bought a ticket?” she asked, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. Not only would the raffle benefit Rosa’s arch nemesis, the ticket cost a hundred dollars. A small fortune in her frugal grandmother’s eyes.

  Rosa shrugged. “Mothers Against Drunk Driving is a good cause. And the publicity, it’s good for the manor. They need all the publicity they can get.”

  Sophie imagined MADD was an organization near and dear to the Gallaghers’ hearts. Liam had lost his mother and sister in a car accident. Eyewitnesses had claimed the driver of the car that hit them was drunk. But neither the car nor driver had ever been found. Kitty hadn’t lost only her daughter-in-law and granddaughter in the accident; she’d lost her husband too. Grief stricken, Ronan had suffered a fatal heart attack two days after Mary and Riley Gallagher’s funeral.

  “Mrs. Gallagher mentioned business is down. She thought it might have something to do with the new hotel in Bridgeport.” Colleen had cornered Sophie in the sitting room at the manor last night, seeking advice. She’d overheard Sophie telling Kitty that she’d left her job at a hotel in LA. Somehow they’d missed the part that Sophie had been a maid at the hotel, not the manager. And she hadn’t actually left her job. She’d been fired when she’d refused to leave Mia’s hospital bedside.

  A few minutes into Sophie and Colleen’s conversation, someone had spotted smoke. It was then that Sophie discovered that Mia, who’d been eating a pumpkin cupcake and playing with the cat seconds before, was gone.

  Rosa made an eh gesture with her hands. “It’s not the hotel. They’re losing business because they’re stupido. Ronan dies, and they…” Her grandmother mimicked a wailing, prostrate woman.

  “Nonna!” She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised by her grandmother’s lack of empathy. She’d had no choice but to pick up the pieces and make a life for her three small children when her husband died. Rosa wasn’t exactly a sympathetic woman to begin with.

  “What? It’s true. No conferences and weddings booked at the manor in all that time. Businesses in town, we depend on them. Now the mayor, she’s trying to get them to sell. A developer, he wants to buy the estate, tear everything down, and put up condos. Condos. Bah!”

  Sophie couldn’t imagine Harmony Harbor without Greystone standing sentry on the rocks above the harbor. She’d worked part-time at the manor when she was in high school. It was the one time Tina had stood up to Rosa. Not that her grandmother had made it easy for Sophie. Despite that, she’d loved working at Greystone. It was the reason she’d decided to go into hotel management. With its turrets, stone walls, and richly appointed rooms, it had been like working in a fairy-tale castle. Only her own fairy tale hadn’t turned out as she’d planned. Her Gallagher prince had turned into a frog.

  But that one mistake had given Sophie her greatest gift—Mia. Her daughter was all that mattered. She drew herself back to the present and the conversation. “Colleen won’t sell,” she said. At least it hadn’t sounded like she would the night before.

  Rosa rubbed her thumb and fingers together. “No, but the kids, they’ll want the money.”

  Sophie was distracted by Mia tapping the flyer again and giving her a hopeful nod. She wished she could give her daughter the answer she wanted to hear. “Sorry, baby, but Mommy doesn’t have a hundred dollars.” Realizing what she’d inadvertently revealed to her grandmother, Sophie briefly closed her eyes. She opened them to see Rosa staring at her. The insistent ringing of the phone sav
ed Sophie from coming up with a response. Her grandmother pushed back from the table with a look on her face that suggested Sophie’s reprieve would be short-lived.

  Rosa answered the phone. “Sí.” She frowned. “Who is this?” Her eyes shot to Sophie then to Mia. “Un momento.”

  “Mia, come with Nonna. I’ll show you my ticket for the raffle.” As her daughter jumped off the chair, Rosa bent down and whispered to Sophie, “The lady, she says she’s with the Department of Child Welfare.”

  Sophie waited for the door to her grandmother’s bedroom to close before picking up the phone. Don’t panic. Stay calm. “Hi, Mrs. Whitmore. I was just about to call you.”

  “I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday to set up your at-home visit, Sophie. Your mother gave me this number. We should have been informed you were going out of state. I think I made that very clear at our initial meeting.”

  “Yes, yes, you did.” Sophie’s knuckles whitened as she clenched the phone. “Like I said, I planned to contact you. I decided it was best for Mia and me to move back home to Harmony Harbor. I have family here and a good support system. It’s a small town, and rent will be cheaper.”

  “I see. Did you share your plans with your mother? Because she seems to think you’re returning to LA.”

  “No, Mrs. Whitmore, I didn’t. Is that a problem too?”

  “Sophie, I’m not the enemy.”

  “Really? ’Cause it kind of feels like you are. The charges were dropped, Mrs. Whitmore. I’m a good mom. I don’t do drugs or go to bars or have men back to my apartment. Mia is the most important thing in the world to me. I would never intentionally put her in danger. All I was trying to do was make a better life for us. That’s all I was trying to do.” The fight went out of her, and she sagged against the wall.

  “Sophie, our preliminary investigation supports everything you’ve just said. We got back glowing reports from your roommates, coworkers, and the woman who provided before and after school care for Mia. But because of the circumstances, we’re legally required to do a follow-up visit. I’m going to transfer your file to the Massachusetts Department of Child Welfare. Is this the number where you can be reached?”

  “Yes, I’m staying with my grandmother until I find a place of our own.”

  “All right. You should expect to receive a call from them within the next month. That should give you plenty of time to get settled and find steady employment before your follow-up visit. How is Mia? Any more nightmares?”

  “No, she hasn’t had any more nightmares.” After yesterday’s episode at Greystone, Sophie’d been surprised she hadn’t. No doubt she had Liam and his comforting presence to thank for that. Sophie wished she had someone to comfort her now. If anyone from Children’s Services found out what had happened at the manor, she’d have another red flag on her file. She’d thought that by coming to Harmony Harbor, she’d at least escape child welfare and the threat that they’d take her daughter away.

  After answering the rest of Mrs. Whitmore’s questions, the caseworker wished Sophie good luck and said goodbye. Sophie hung up the phone and rested her forehead against the wall. Strong, firm hands took her by the shoulders and turned her around. “This time you tell me the whole story, bella. Sit.”

  “Mia…”

  “She’s good. She’s watching the TV.” Her grandmother bent down and pulled a bottle of red wine from the bottom cupboard.

  “Nonna, I’m not drinking at noon.”

  “It’s for me,” she said, pouring herself a juice glass full. She sat beside Sophie at the table, and this time she didn’t leave anything out.

  Her grandmother swore in Italian, cursing out interfering government agencies and Sophie’s no-good mother. Sophie didn’t have the energy to make excuses for Tina. Once her grandmother got her temper under control, she said, “I’ll make some phone calls. See if anyone—” The phone rang, cutting her off.

  Sophie’s heart pounded. “What if it’s—”

  Rosa tossed back her wine and got up from the table, patting Sophie’s shoulder as she reached for the phone. “Leave it to your nonna. I will take care of them. Sí,” she snapped into the receiver then frowned and nodded. “She is. Oh. All right, I will tell her. An hour? Sí. She will be there.”

  Sophie twisted the red-checkered tablecloth between her fingers. “Who was it?”

  “Colleen Gallagher. She wants to meet with you. I think she’s going to offer you a job. The manager’s position.”

  As much as Sophie needed a job, she couldn’t work at Greystone.

  Rosa returned to her chair and glanced at her bedroom, nodding slowly. “Two birds, one stone. You’re a smart girl. You’ll turn Greystone around, and the child welfare people, they will be happy. Good job, steady job. It’s good. It will work.”

  Her grandmother was right. If Greystone was owned by anyone other than the Gallaghers, Sophie would jump at the opportunity. As it was, she hesitated. First off, she knew Rosa. She’d only be able to set aside her feud with Kitty for so long. Then there was Sophie’s biggest fear—running into Michael. “I don’t know, Nonna. Maybe I should—”

  “You rarely see the Gallagher grandchildren at Greystone,” Rosa said conversationally. “I don’t remember the last time Michael was in town.”

  Sophie’s eyes shot to her grandmother. Rosa patted her hand. “Don’t worry, bella. No one will take Mia from us. Colleen offers you the job, you say sí.”

  Chapter Four

  The couple making out on the couch decided it for Liam; he was heading home to Boston. He’d begun to suspect his dad had a thing for the attractive, fiftysomething redhead who lived across the street. From the looks of it, he’d been right. Maggie Stewart was a bit of a mystery woman. No one really knew her story, other than that she was an artist and had moved to town to buy a high-end art gallery a couple years earlier.

  GG probably did. She knew everyone’s story. And Maggie belonged to the Widow’s Club. A club his great-grandmother had founded years before. If anything was going on in Harmony Harbor, you could bet they were behind it.

  As Liam went to backtrack up the stairs to his bedroom, a floorboard creaked. His father and Maggie broke apart like a pair of guilty teenagers.

  “Hey, son.” His father straightened his navy uniform shirt, his face flushing a dull red. “You have a good night?”

  It was a question his father asked him every morning. With that same searching look in his piercing blue eyes. He didn’t want to know if Liam had a good night. He wanted to know if it was nightmare-free. It hadn’t been. Which may be the reason Liam said, “Yep, but apparently not as good as your morning. You might want to—” He rubbed his lips with his thumb. If the flattening of his father’s mouth was any indication, the chief probably wished Liam had kept his closed. He might have, but it was a little disconcerting seeing his dad wearing red lipstick. “It’s not really your color. Looks great on you, though, Maggie.”

  Fiddling with the gold bangles on her wrist, Maggie glanced from his father to Liam, and gave him a self-conscious smile. “I probably should be going. I just wanted to drop off some muffins and check on you both.”

  He shouldn’t have let his frustration get the better of him. His jab at his father had embarrassed Maggie. “Don’t leave on my account.” Liam glanced at the stack of muffins on the platter and picked one up. “These look…great,” he said in an effort to make up for his smart-ass remark. Because they didn’t. They were the oddest-looking muffins he’d ever seen. They were burnt orange with what looked like melted cheddar cheese on top.

  His father leaned back out of Maggie’s line of sight and gave his head an almost imperceptible shake.

  But his warning came too late because Liam had already taken a bite. “Umm, really good,” he said at the same time looking around for something to put out the fire in his mouth. “I’m going to get a glass of milk. Anyone else want one?”

  Maggie beamed. “Oh good. It’s a new recipe I’ve been experimenting with for
my next coffee klatch. I was worried I’d added too much cayenne,” she called after him.

  Maggie attended a weekly morning meeting with the Widow’s Club. All of whom, as far as he knew, were over seventy. Other than Maggie, of course. So he should probably tell her the truth. But no way was he going to be the one to dim the wide smile on her face. He’d leave that to his father.

  There was a solid thunk on the front door, and their golden retriever started barking. “Cut it out, Miller,” his father said when the dog kept it up.

  “Shush now. I’m just getting the newspaper, my beautiful boy,” Maggie said, and Miller immediately stopped barking. Their dog was stupid in love with Maggie.

  Liam had just poured a glass of milk and was in the process of guzzling it down when she called out, “Liam, you made the front page of the Harmony Harbor Gazette. Oh, that’s so sweet. Look, Colin, it says, ‘Gallant Gallagher strikes again. Harmony’s local hero rescues the damsels in distress.’”

  Liam choked on the milk, spilling it down the front of his Boston Fire Department sweatshirt. He wiped at the damp spot as he walked into the living room. “Thought journalists were supposed to print fact not fiction. Old Lady Harte should retire.”

  “She has. Her grandchildren Poppy and Byron have taken over the paper. And I for one think they’re doing an incredible job.”

  “I agree with Liam. They’ve turned it into a gossip rag. Chief Benson threatened to throw them in jail last week for interfering in a case,” his father said, referring to Harmony Harbor’s chief of police.

  Maggie lifted a shoulder. “They’re doing something right. Circulation has increased by thirty-five percent, and they just took over in September. It’s because of Poppy and Byron that the raffle is doing so well. Ask Colleen and Kitty if you don’t believe me,” she added when his dad raised a skeptical eyebrow. “If more grandchildren stepped up to the plate and took over the family businesses in town, it would give Harmony Harbor the boost it sorely needs.”