Nantucket White Christmas: A feel-good, small town, Christmas story

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Nantucket White Christmas: A feel-good, small town, Christmas story Page 12

by Pamela M. Kelley


  “Oh good, you’re still here,” Philippe said when he saw her.

  “I was just about to leave. Did you have fun at the museum?”

  “You were right, dear. It was fascinating. We stopped at a coffee shop and had a cappuccino and a scone.”

  “I got a call with some good news, too. My ticket guy found some great tickets to Hamilton, third row center.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful! You’ll have a great time.”

  “There’s one catch, though. They only sell the tickets in pairs. So, I had to take four of them, which means I have one left over. Any interest in joining us?”

  Angela’s jaw dropped. “You want me to come with you to see Hamilton?” She wasn’t sure what to say. It seemed like so much. She knew tickets to a show like that were very expensive and it was in Boston, with his parents. She really wanted to go, but she hesitated, not sure if it was a good idea or not.

  Miriam put her hand on her arm and smiled. “Come with us, dear. It should be a fabulous show and we’re going to go to the Museum of Fine Arts in the afternoon, then have dinner before the show.”

  “You’ll have your own room at the hotel,” Philippe said. “It really should be fun. Say you’ll come with us.”

  Angela was about to say yes, then realized that she couldn’t possibly go.

  “I’d love to, but I can’t just take off on Lisa. She’s depending on me to clean the rooms at the Inn.

  Philippe grinned. “That’s already taken care of. I checked with Kate and Kristen and they said they’d be happy to cover for you for a few days.”

  Angela was blown away. He’d thought of everything.

  She smiled. “All right, then. Thank you. I guess I should see Boston at least once before I go back to San Francisco.”

  Philippe’s eyes seemed to darken.

  “Yes, you definitely should see Boston at least once.”

  18

  The trip to Boston with Philippe and his parents was a wonderful whirlwind. Philippe called an Uber to drop them at the Nantucket airport and they flew straight to Boston. It was a gorgeous day, sunny but cold. They took another Uber to the hotel to check in and Angela was suitably impressed to see that it was the Four Seasons, which was many steps above any hotel she’d ever stayed in.

  They had several suites reserved, on the same floor—a bigger one that was more like an apartment for his parents, and smaller, one-bedroom suites each for Philippe and Angela. Angela thought it was extravagant to get suites for all of them.

  “A regular room would have been fine for me,” she told him as they dropped their bags in their rooms, which were really lovely. Angela’s had a pretty view of Boston Common and the gardens.

  “It wasn’t an option. The only available rooms they had were the suites because we booked so last minute.” He grinned. “It’s all good, though. My accountant says I need the tax write-off.”

  They spent the afternoon exploring the Museum of Fine Arts. Angela especially enjoyed the Downton Abbey exhibit as she’d watched every episode, and the Monet watercolors, which she’d always thought were gorgeous.

  They had a delicious dinner at Abe and Louie’s, a steak house on Boylston Street in the heart of Boston’s Back Bay Area near the historic Copley square and all kinds of shopping at the Prudential Center. Miriam and Angela both had the chocolate cake for dessert. It was six layers high and Philippe and Pierre ended up helping both of them because it was so massive and amazing.

  They walked over to the theater after dinner and it felt good to move around. The tickets were waiting for them at the theater and the seats were incredible. They were so close that Angela could see beads of sweat on one man’s forehead. The show was every bit as good as she’d heard and as they walked back to the hotel, they saw fireworks in the sky the entire way.

  “It’s First Night festivities, fireworks and all kinds of activities like face-painting, at Boston Common,” Philippe said. They decided to walk over since it was so near the hotel and Angela was amazed at the size of the crowd. It was almost as if all of Boston was out celebrating.

  They didn’t stay too long, though. Miriam was tired and Angela found herself yawning, too. It had been a long day but a wonderful one.

  When they reached the hotel, Philippe asked if they wanted to have a nightcap in the Bristol Lounge before heading up to their rooms. His mother smiled and shook her head.

  “No thanks, honey. We’re exhausted. You kids go have a glass of champagne and toast in the New Year. We’ll catch up with you in the morning for brunch.”

  “What do you think? A little champagne sound good?” Philippe asked.

  Angela smiled. It was already eleven thirty, so it wouldn’t be long before the ball dropped and ushered in the new year.

  “Of course. Lead the way.” She followed Philippe into the Bristol Lounge and they slid into two seats at the bar that opened up as they walked in.

  “Perfect timing,” Philippe said.

  A moment later, the bartender brought over a silver dish with hot, salted nuts and took their drink order. When they both had their glass of Veuve Cliquot, Philippe lifted his and said, “To your first Boston visit.”

  She tapped her glass lightly against his and smiled. “Thank you for including me and for making it so special.”

  “It’s my pleasure. It’s fun playing tourist and seeing things for the first time through your eyes.”

  Angela glanced out the window. Fireworks were still going off and it was almost midnight.

  “They are coming on Monday to refinish the floors. That’s the last step before I list the house with Lauren. I wonder how long it will take to sell?”

  Philippe smiled. “Are you in a hurry to get back to San Francisco?”

  “No, I’m actually not in a rush at all. It’s been so much nicer than I expected, meeting you and the Hodges family. I won’t mind if it takes a little longer. Since I’ve picked up a few cleaning jobs, my money is lasting longer, too.”

  “Well, selfishly, I hope your house takes forever to sell.” He grinned and Angela laughed.

  They both turned toward the television where the countdown was happening. They watched the ball drop in Times Square and all around the bar, couples kissed to celebrate the New Year.

  “Happy New Year, Angela.” Philippe leaned over and brought his lips to hers. This time, it was a real kiss and lasted for more than just a second. When it ended, Philippe looked as dazed as Angela felt.

  “Happy New Year,” she said softly, and then yawned as the long day caught up to her.

  “Ready for bed?” Philippe took the last sip of champagne and she did the same. They were both quiet as they rode the elevator up to their rooms, which were adjacent. Philippe waited until she had her door open before he walked off.

  “See you in the morning.”

  Angela changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed. Her head was spinning as she replayed the kiss with Philippe over and over. It had been wonderful and terrifying at the same time because she understood now how easily it could be to fall for him. He was handsome and fun to be with, but he was dangerous, too, because of his track record.

  It would crush her to fall hard and have Philippe pull back when things got too serious. It was his pattern and there was no reason to suggest that it would be any different with her. So, it was best not to let it happen again, and just stay friends. And Philippe had become a good friend. She didn’t want to lose that.

  Philippe was confused by his feelings for Angela. They had developed a strong friendship, yet when he kissed her, he didn’t want to stop. But he knew himself too well and he didn’t want to ruin their friendship by being his usual non-committal self. He still didn’t see that changing any time soon. And he knew Angela was still determined to move home to San Francisco, so starting anything romantic just didn’t make sense. At least if they stayed friends, he could see her if he went to California or if she visited Nantucket, and he was pretty sure she’d be back for a vacation and to see th
e new friends she’d made, including him.

  Angela acted as if they’d never shared a kiss the night before when he saw her at brunch, and he took his cue from her and did the same. His mother raised her eyebrows, though, as she looked at both of them, and then she smiled slightly. Philippe suspected she really liked Angela and he hated to get her hopes up that there could be anything more than friendship between the two of them.

  After a relaxing brunch at the hotel, they took a walk across Boston Common to the North End and stopped at Modern Pastry. Philippe’s mother wanted to get some cannoli and nougat candy to bring back to Nantucket. They checked out of the hotel, took a cab to the airport and flew back to Nantucket, arriving mid-afternoon.

  Philippe had an Uber waiting for them when the plane landed and they dropped Angela off on the way back to his house. As soon as Angela said her goodbyes to his parents and to him, his mother let him know what she thought of her.

  “She’s lovely. What are you going to do about it?”

  Philippe laughed. “Nothing. She’s a good friend and she’s moving across the country. San Francisco is home to her.”

  “Home can be anywhere you want it to be,” his mother said.

  “Well, I’m glad you both liked her.”

  “Eventually, my dear, you need to stop all this playing around and grow up a little.”

  Philippe’s jaw dropped. His mother had never spoken to him like that before. He looked at his father, who just shrugged and stayed silent.

  “It’s just that we love you, honey, and we want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy, Mom. I have a wonderful life.”

  “I’m glad you’re happy, honey. So, what shall we do tomorrow?”

  19

  Sam was sound asleep when Angela walked through the door. There was also a package from Amazon on her front step. She brought it inside and set it on the kitchen table. The soap-making supplies had arrived. Once she was unpacked and settled in, she messaged Abby and her sisters to see if they wanted to come by that Saturday afternoon for a soap-making session, and maybe have pizza and wine after. She also had a message from Jessica asking if she could come and clean on Monday.

  She spent the rest of the day doing laundry and running errands, stocking up on wine for when the girls came over, soda for Abby and a few groceries and cat food to get her through the week.

  It was nice to have a few days off from cleaning and when she arrived at the Inn the next morning, Lisa and Rhett were both eager to hear about her Boston trip.

  “I heard that Hamilton is just wonderful. I tried to get tickets to go with the girls when the show was first announced, but they sold out so fast. Unless you go through a special ticket reseller and pay astronomical amounts.”

  Angela laughed. “I think that’s what Philippe did. And they only sell in pairs so that’s how I got a lucky invite.”

  “And you went to Abe and Louie’s, too. Did you get the chocolate cake?”

  “Yes, and it really was wonderful.”

  Lisa sighed. “The first time I went there I was with friends and before we ordered, we saw several of them go by and I knew that was what I wanted. I almost didn’t even care about my dinner. I just wanted to get to dessert.”

  “Where did you stay?” Rhett asked.

  “The Four Seasons. I’m not used to staying at such a posh place.”

  “Well, it sounds like you had a wonderful first visit to Boston.”

  “I did. We walked over to the North End, too, to Modern pastry and I had my first cannoli. I may be addicted.”

  “There are no bad bakeries in the North End. Some people prefer Mike’s. We like Modern, but it’s all good. What did you think of Philippe’s parents?”

  “They’re nice. Philippe looks a lot like his dad, but has more of his mother’s personality, I think. His father is very quiet and lets his mother chatter away.”

  “How long are they staying?” Lisa asked.

  “I think they’re flying home tomorrow.”

  “Are you still planning to go back to San Francisco?” Lisa asked.

  The question surprised Angela. “Yes, of course. They are coming on Monday to refinish the floors and then the house will be ready to be listed.”

  “Just checking. Hoping you might fall in love…with Nantucket, and decide to stay.”

  Angela smiled. “I do love it here. I will definitely be back to visit, for summer vacations.”

  “Well, that’s good, then.”

  Angela noticed a car pulling out of the driveway.

  “Looks like one of the guests has gone out, so I should probably get started.”

  Later that afternoon, around four, Abby, Kate and Kristen knocked on Angela’s front door. She let them in and showed them around as none of them had seen inside her grandmother’s cottage since they were children and used to visit.

  “They are doing the floors on Monday,” she said when she saw Kate looking around the room.

  “It’s a lovely home. Refinishing the floors will really make it sparkle. You’ll be listing it after that?” Kate asked.

  Angela nodded. “Lauren took a bunch of pictures when she was here, but she’ll probably want to take a few more to show the hard wood floors.”

  “It’s a tough time of year, but it wouldn’t surprise me if you get offers quickly,” Abby said. “I was just reading recently that there is still a shortage of real estate inventory all over Massachusetts. It’s a great market for a seller.”

  Angela had mixed feelings about that news. It was bittersweet to think the cottage might sell more quickly than she’d expected. It was great on one hand, but she was really hoping to stay a little longer. Time was going by so fast as it was.

  “So, here’s all the soap stuff. Let me show you what we need to do.” She walked them through the process of heating the oils, stirring the lye and water mixture in and adding the scents before coloring it and pouring it into a mold to cool. They decided to divide the soap into two batches, add some pretty blue and green swirls, and scented one with vanilla and the other with lemongrass.

  Once the soap was poured, set aside to cool and everything was cleared up, they ordered pizza. Angela opened a bottle of wine and poured a ginger ale for Abby. They chatted and laughed as they ate the pizza and drank some wine. Kristen was quieter than usual. She’d told them earlier that Tyler was home. She’d met him there for the wake and funeral and he’d stayed on a few days longer to make sure his dad was okay.

  They were on their second glasses of wine when Kristen shared a little more about Tyler.

  “I’m worried about him. He’s taking this really hard. Which is to be expected, but he’s withdrawing and shutting me out. I’ve hardly seen him since he got back. I’ve called and stopped over to check on him, but he keeps saying he’s busy and focusing on his writing.”

  “Maybe that helps. Losing himself in the writing gives him something to focus on?” Kate suggested.

  Kristen nodded. “Maybe, but I feel a little helpless. I just wish I knew what I could do to make him feel better.”

  “There might not be anything you can do, other than to just be there when he needs you,” Abby said. “It might just take time.”

  Kristen seemed to relax a little as she talked about it. “I think you’re probably right. I just hate to see him in so much pain.”

  “Everyone processes grief different,” Kate said.

  “You’re right. Enough about me, though. I want to hear more about Angela’s trip to Boston with Philippe’s parents.”

  Angela had already told them all the highlights. “There’s not much more to tell,” she said.

  “Philippe seems to really like you. He’s never had anyone meet his parents before, let alone go on a trip with them. Just wondering if anything has changed between the two of you?”

  Angela immediately flashed to the kiss in the Bristol lounge and then pushed the image away and laughed.

  “Nothing has changed. We’ve just become good frien
ds. He’s easy to be around.”

  “Good,” Kate said. “I really like both of you and think that’s probably for the best, given his track record. If you were going to be staying here, maybe it would be different.” She paused for a moment, then laughed and added, “No, it probably wouldn’t be. Now that he and Jessica are over, he’ll probably be dating someone new any day now.”

  The thought of it depressed Angela.

  “Well, as long as it’s not Jessica, I suppose that’s fine. He can definitely do better than her,” she said.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Kristen said. “She came into the art gallery when I was doing a show and was rude to one of the salespeople. It was so unnecessary.”

  “How did it go cleaning her place?” Abby asked.

  “Her condo is gorgeous. It’s down on the pier and was a gift from her father when she turned twenty-five. Can you imagine?” Angela said.

  “So spoiled.” Kristen shook her head.

  “So what else do we have to do with the soap?” Abby asked.

  “It has to sit for twenty-four hours. Then I can cut it, and I’ll divide it up for us.”

  They chatted for another hour or so until Abby began to yawn and everyone decided to head home.

  Not long after the girls left, Angela realized she’d had a missed message from earlier in the day. It was Beth, Chase’s office manager, reminding her that the refinishers were coming first thing Monday morning and that she wouldn’t be able to stay in her house for the next four days while they sanded, stained, sealed, and applied the finish coat. She’d totally forgotten about that and Beth had mentioned it when they were first going over the estimate. Shoot, where would she go for the next week?

  She hated to impose on anyone. She knew there was no room at the Inn as they were totally booked, plus she had Sam. She supposed she could check with Kristen, but she worried about the damage Sam could cause if he decided to play with one of her paintings. She pulled up her laptop and was searching Airbnb for options that were animal friendly when her cell phone rang. Philippe was calling.

 

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