Page 55 of Something Borrowed

“Me or him?”

“Him . . . but the verdict’s not in.”

“I won’t go full recluse, I promise.” He had every intention of keeping that promise too, because it had occurred to him that if he went at it steady, he might be able to get most, if not all, of Vic’s wish list done before he opened shop again January 2nd. He’d keep that information to himself, of course.

“Planning to keep Vic a little company then?”

It was infuriating! “How can you always read me like a book?”

“Okaaaay, referring to yourself as a book is a bit of a stretch. Short story, maybe. Or an essay? No, I got—a haiku!”

“Hilarious.”

“Thank you!”

Cal signaled, shoulder-checked, then moved into the turning lane for the airport. He didn’t need to look at Carrie to know she was grinning smugly.

“Just be careful,” she said a second later.

“How so?” Cal pulled into the drop-off lane.

“You said yourself . . . She has problems. She reminded you of Melanie, for cripes sake.”

“Yeah, uh, I think that was unfair. And who doesn’t have problems? We all have problems.”

“You know what I mean.” Carrie unclicked her belt and stuffed her gloves into his glovebox.

“Yeah—but she’s self-aware. She’s working on herself. And honestly, I think her mother is the real issue.”

“Cal . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Just. Be. Careful.”

“I will be! And anyway, we really are just friends—and mostly just like employee-employer friends.”

“Uh huh.” Carrie climbed down from the van and grabbed her carry-on and small rollaway suitcase from the backseat.

Cal turned on his 4-ways, hopped out, and gave Carrie a bear hug. “You have a merry Christmas, okay? Make new memories with your kids.”

“I will,” she said. “Thanks—and good advice. I was telling myself that too. Don’t try to stick to old traditions. Make new ones.”

Carrie was at the big glass doors to Departures, and Cal was about to climb back in the van when she turned back. “Hey!”

“What?” Man, he hoped she hadn’t forgotten anything.

“Be careful!”

Man-oh-man. “I will. Now get lost!”

She waved and disappeared into a crowd of fellow travelers.

Chapter 28

They’d had plates of baked goodies, mandarin oranges, candy canes, and mulled apple cider for customers all week, and The Second Chance Shop, always delicious-smelling in Vic’s point-of-view, was even more so. The spicy evergreen tang of Gwen’s gorgeous pine, cedar, hemlock, and spruce swags, centerpieces, and wreaths mixed with mingled scents of cinnamon and warm buttery sugary goodness to create a heady, festive mix, perfectly summed up by Gwen’s eldest granddaughter, Pillar.

“It smells like Christmas in here!” she’d exclaimed the other day when she’d run into tell Gwen that they were there to pick her up.