Mistletoe Misses

Chapter 4

Maddox

L ast night, I made a list of repair tasks to accomplish at the bookshop according to complexity and time needed and snuck in a toolbox after closing. First on the list will be checking the second floor to find the cause of the leak … but after I soften the opposition.

Expecting Nana to protest and try to hinder my plans for some unknown reason, I stop by Latte Da Café on my way in to get us coffee and breakfast. She won’t show it, but she’ll be touched by the thoughtful gesture. I only hope it’s enough to make her stay out of my way. Then again, no matter how she reacts, I still win. The repairs will eventually get done—just with annoying chatter from said opposition—and I get some one-on-one time with my favorite person. Now that I think about it, this buttering her up idea is for my benefit and sanity, not hers.

Stepping inside the café, I’m too busy admiring my cleverness to prepare my introverted self for the young barista greeting me by name. It’s a small town. Of course, she knows me and my family, but it’s been a while since I’ve experienced that kind of intimate familiarity, and I’m out of practice.

“Happy Saturday, Maddox,” the barista says the second the door closes. “I heard you were back in town.”

Already? News travels—Wait. Is she … “Addie Harding? Is that you?”

She smiles in response, reminding me of the little girl I remember from Aaron’s birthday parties and games. She seemed to be a good friend to him and balanced his ever-present energy. They liked a lot of the same things, including baseball, and played on the same Little League team until she switched to softball in middle school.

“I haven’t seen you since you were eight or nine years old. You’re all grown up.”

She tightens the loose ponytail on top of her head, her rich chocolate eye showing her amusement before her lips. “That’s what happens when you skip town for a while,” she teases. “How long are you here for?”

“Not sure.”

“You’re living in Boston, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“Cool. The girls and I are thinking about taking a trip there for my twenty-first birthday in a few months. I hope you’ll stay for the Spectacular,” she says, switching topics too fast and almost giving me whiplash.

Stay . The vein in my neck throbs like my system is gearing up to do the opposite. That motor hasn’t taken a break since I arrived in Ember Falls.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” I say to keep my feet from taking me away without warning.

“Maybe I can convince you to stay longer with some yummy coffee and treats. I guarantee it will be better than anything you’ve had in Boston,” she challenges.

“I live on coffee most shifts, so I—”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a cop.”

She leans on the top of the register, eager to re-energize our conversation. “Is that what you’ve been doing since you left?”

“No. I also served in the Army.”

“That’s amazing. The Spectacular holds an appreciation dinner for active military and veterans on Christmas Eve. You should go.”

I doubt I’ll be here then . “I’m not that big on socializing.”

“You’re socializing with me. See? It’s not so bad.” She giggles before resuming barista mode. “What can I get ya?”

“Just two black coffees and two blueberry muffins.”

She doesn’t move to enter my order and stares at me like I spoke an unknown language. “That’s so … generic,” she accuses, her brow scrunching in the middle in disapproval. “How can I convince you to stay if you don’t try one of our specialties? How about a peppermint latte and a slice of wild berry pie instead?”

“Taking my Nana, Ember Falls’ reigning pie-baking champion, a slice from the competitor will get my head chopped off and baked into a pie. Maybe next time when she’s not looking,” I promise, and her smile returns.

“Okay. So long as there’s a next time. Don’t go running off again without saying goodbye.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, nor can I promise I won’t, and I’m grateful for the save my vibrating phone provides. After handing her my debit card, I step away to check the text.

Aaron: Dude! I can’t believe you’re in town. You’re going to stay until I get there, right?

Me: Of course. When do your classes end?

Aaron: Next week. I’ll be back in time for the Spectacular.

Me: Kendall riding with you?

Aaron: Yeah. If she can pull herself out of the library. She’s crushin on some guy working there. [Eye roll emoji] Dude’s not even in the ballpark good enough for her, and he’s old.

I chuckle. For all the arguing those two do, they’re over-the-top protective of each other.

Me: How old?

“Your order’s ready, Maddox,” Addie announces.

“Thanks. I’ll be right there.”

Aaron: 25

Me: She’s only 19!

Aaron: Yeah. Gross, right?

Kendall: You two talking about me?

Aaron: Guess who just barged into my apartment.

Kendall: OUR apartment. Don’t forget who keeps this place looking less like a locker room.

Kendall: Hi, big bro. I miss you.

Me: Hi Ken. I miss you, too.

Aaron: How come you didn’t say you missed me?

Me: Goes without saying.

Kendall: Have you heard from Cooper? Is he coming home, too?

Me: I haven’t, and no one’s mentioned anything yet.

Aaron: I bet he shows up with the whole Izzie situation.

Me: Military leave isn’t easy to come by.

Kendall: Neither is a connection like theirs.

My stomach knots at the reminder of the connection I once had.

Aaron: Way to go.

Kendall: Sorry, Maddox. That was insensitive of me.

Me: No, it wasn’t. Ancient history.

Me: I better go. I’ve got coffee and Nana waiting on me.

Aaron: Good luck! You’re gonna need it.

Kendall: Shut up. Love you, Maddox.

Aaron: Where’s my I love you?

“Anything important?” Addie asks with excitement. “Does a criminal case need your attention?”

“Nothing like that. Just my crazy siblings.”

“Oh. Which ones?” Nerves shake in her voice, erasing all playfulness.

“Kendall and Aaron.”

“Are they coming home, too?”

“Next week.”

“That’s wonderful.” With both hands, she pushes my card and order forward, her friendly smile vanishing. “Have a great day, Maddox.”

She pushes through the swinging kitchen doors, leaving me alone in the empty café. Strange exit for someone who seemed content to keep me here talking all day only moments ago. With a shrug, I put away my debit card, collect the bag of muffins and cardboard cup carrier, and cross the street.

Nana must have seen me coming with her special treats.

“Good job,” I say as she holds open the door and helps me inside. “That’s the kind of welcome customers expect.”

“Stop your griping and give me that muffin. I can tell that’s what you got in the bag.” She snatches the bag from my hand and reaches inside. Without bothering with the paper wrapping, she sinks her teeth into the top of the muffin and groans. “Willa sure knows how to bake bread and pastries, but she’s got a thing or two to learn about pies. I’m keeping my crown this year.”

“I hope so. For everyone’s sake,” I add in a mumble to myself.

“I heard that.” She takes another bite before giving her attention to me. “By the way, I saw the tools you brought in here. You’re not as sneaky as you think.”

“Whatever complaining you’re conjuring up, I don’t want to hear it. This place needs work, and if you won’t do it, I will.”

“It’s not your shop. I’ll fix what I want when I want.”

“Nope. You gave up that right yesterday when you told me to shut up and listen. Now, I’m saying the same to you. You can try to fix whatever you think is broken in my life, and I’ll do the same with the one thing you love as much as family. Got it?”

I expect her to argue, nag, or throw something at me. I never thought I’d hear her to say, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Want me to write it down for you?”

“Damn, Nana. I got it.”

“Good.”

I remove my muffin from the bag and take a bite, fully understanding Nana’s reaction to hers. The symphony of flavors melts on my tongue as I chew.

“Why haven’t you fixed the issues around here,” I ask, and resign to playing twenty questions when she ignores me. “Do you not have the money? Don’t trust Dad with tools?” That got a chuckle out of her. He really is a danger to himself with power tools. Everything I know, I learned from Carmen’s father and the Army.

“Revenue isn’t exactly flowing steady these days, thanks to online stores, but I’m not dry yet.”

“Do you have any ideas for changing that? You need to adequately support yourself. You can’t operate the way you did when you first opened. You have to evolve, Nana.”

“You’re one to talk.”

After that little nugget, we eat in silence until Nana steers the conversation back to my life and ruins the bliss.

“Chrissy asked about you yesterday.”

“Who?”

“Bachelorette number two.”

“Good Lord, Nana.” Snatching up my coffee, I stalk to hall closet where I not so slyly (apparently) hid the toolbox. “How do I get upstairs?” My escape route.

“Stairway in the lounge.”

“I’m going up to find the leak. Let me know if you need anything.”

Just short of jogging to get away from any mention of my bachelorhood, I rush to the back of the bookshop and locate the stairs, taking them two at a time. At the top, a long hallway connects the bookshop to the building beside it. Two doors break up the long, white wall ahead. The one above the Bennett’s General Store has a number on it as if they use it for something. I start with the one closest to the stairwell since it’s above the bookshop. The old metal knob grinds through a turn, and I step into an open room.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

It’s not empty attic space, but a finished apartment with hardwood floors, plumbing, and established rooms.

I cross the room into the outdated kitchen, then down the narrow hallway, passing the bathroom and two small bedrooms. The apartment looks as if it hadn’t welcomed a tenant for decades, but with a good cleaning, some paint, new appliances, and plenty of elbow grease, it could be that revenue source Nana needs.

Setting down the toolbox, I check the bathroom for leaks first. Finding none, I move to the kitchen where watermarks decorate the cabinet floor under the sink. The pipe isn’t dripping but who knows how long ago the damage was done below.

I grab a wrench and dip under the sink.

“What are you doing?” a little voice asks behind me, and I jump, hitting my head on the old metal pipe.

Crawling out, I sit on my heels to face Sadie. We’re eye level with each other, but I’m confident she doesn’t see me as an equal with the you’re stupid look she’s giving me.

“Water is dripping into the bookshop, and as you know, water is not good for books.”

“No. It would be awful to ruin Nana’s collection.”

“Agreed. She doesn’t seem to be worried, but I am.”

“Me, too.”

“Glad we agree.” I flash her a grin, happy she isn’t schooling me again. “What are you doing up here?”

“I live next door.” At least the Bennett’s are smart enough to put their second-floor space to good use.

“Are your parents home?”

“It’s just mom and me. She’s at work.”

She rocks back on her heels and that’s when I notice she’s holding something behind her back.

“Whatcha got there? Another book?”

She shows me a stack of crumbled papers with deep frown. “It’s my lines.”

“Are you in a play?”

“Yes. Ellie got the lead role because she has brown hair, but she can’t remember all the lines like I can.”

“I bet not. What’s the play?”

“Snow White. I have to be the evil queen.” She huffs and leans on the counter opposite me, her arms folded over the papers across her little body.

“But the queen is a more difficult part to play. I’m sure the director thought you would handle it best.”

“How so?” Mirroring me, she lowers to the floor, her pretty, blue eyes holding my gaze with curiosity.

“Have you seen the movie?”

“Yeah. I studied it for the part.”

I sigh at her grown up answer, hoping she’s spent some time as a carefree child in her eight years on this planet. Those were the best years of my life, and I wish that for her. “No doubt, but did you watch it?”

Her head tilts in confusion, and I settle into a more comfortable position, anticipating a long conversation. “The queen is also the old witch, right?”

She gives me a nod.

“What emotions do you feel when the queen or the witch are on scene.”

“Mad, scared, frustrated,” she answers after thinking on it.

“Exactly. It takes a very talented actor to play two characters and make the audience feel all those emotions.”

“So, the director gave me the hardest part?”

“Yes. A part he would only give to the best actors. Snow White is all fluff.” I smile with her as everything unfolds in her mind.

“Thank you.” She flings herself into my arms, surprising and releasing me before I can react. “I take back what I said. You are sweet.”

Something twists inside me. That fatherly, protector instinct I haven’t felt in years bubbles back to the surface and carves Sadie’s name into my heart, right beside my siblings’.

“I appreciate that, especially coming from you.”

“When you’re done here, want to run some lines with me? Mom and grandpa are always busy, and grandma is terrible at it. Plus, you seem to understand the business.”

Amused with her grown up language, I stifle a grin to match her seriousness. “I’ve had some exposure. I knew someone a long time ago who was an actress and singer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I used to run lines with her and help her write songs all the time.”

“That’s cool. So, you’ll do it?”

“Let me check a few more things here, then we’ll practice.”

She jumps to her feet and sets the script on the counter. “Since you’re going to help me, I’ll help you with your chores.”

“Great. I could use an assistant as smart as you.”

◆◆◆

After crawling under cabinets and in dark, dusty crevices for a while, she sits me on the floor in the living room and hands me the script.

“Does this mean you have all your lines memorized?” I ask, and her chin tilts up. “I love your confidence. Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Digging deep into my long-lost childhood, I bring out the amateur actor I’d tucked away. Sadie laughs at my exaggerated accents for each dwarf and especially Snow White.

“You sound like a munchkin from the Wizard of Oz. We don’t talk like that,” she says between giggles, the adorable sound lifting the clouds that seem to hover over my life these days.

“What do you mean we ?”

“Girls, silly.”

“Oh, right.” My palm slaps against my forehead, sending her into another fit of giggles. “I have two little sisters. How did I mess that up?”

“Because you’re a boy.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Since when?”

“Since puberty.” A snicker slips out, but Sadie staring at me as if I’m as dumb as the joke has it evolving into a cough. I tap a fist against my chest to clear the non-existent tickle and continue with her prompts.

On the last run through hours later, she recites every word without a hitch, her joy over the accomplishment bouncing off the walls in the empty apartment.

“Way to go, kid.” I celebrate with her, my arms flailing in the air as she dances about.

On the last twirl, she falls into my lap. Her arms cover me in both acceptance and adoration, catching me off guard. We barely know each other, but it doesn’t take me long to give her the same and realize that this little girl has forever changed me.

“That was so fun. Can we do it again tomorrow?” she asks as she stands, her body fidgety with too much energy to contain.

“If there’s nothing else stealing my free time …” And even then, I’d choose her. “I’d love to.”

She flashes me a smile to rival the stars, and I wonder if she knows it’s a superpower. That twinkle of hers could convince me to do just about anything.

“I better get back to work now and make some progress on the task list.” I push off the hard floor to my feet and stretch my sore back. “I’ve got some more bookshelves to secure.”

“And I need to fix lunch.”

“You’re joking.”

“Why would I do that?” she asks, her serious side snapping back into place. “Momma doesn’t have time, and cooking our meals is part of my weekend chores.”

Shaking my head, I collect the toolbox I set by the door before our playtime started. “You’re incredible, Queenie.”

“Queenie?”

“Yeah. With the royal way you delivered that script, you are now Queen Sadie, or Queenie.”

“My name and queen mixed together. I like it.”

Her satisfaction with the nickname shouldn’t have made me as proud as it did, but here we are.

On my way downstairs, I’m marveling at my new friend and don’t realize I’ve walked into a meeting of some sort until it’s too late. The lounge is full of women of all ages, sitting in a circle of chairs or beanbags. I recognize Harper, the Mayor’s daughter, but that’s it. Yet, they all watch me as if they know me and all my darkest secrets.

“Maddox, darling,” Nana says, her arm circling mine as I exit the stairwell. “Come say hi to the Book Nook Book Club.”

“I don’t want to interrupt.”

“You’re not. I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Spite glitters her every word. She’s not happy with me messing with her shop, but she’ll eventually realize I’m doing it for her own good. Until then, I guess she’ll be punishing me for it every chance she gets.

With an arm hooked tight on mine, she guides me through the room, forcing me into conversations with each woman. They ask questions I don’t care to answer, get too close, and touch me incessantly. After the final awkward introduction, I bolt, bumping into Harper on her way to the eggnog pitcher on a small table by the door. She grips my elbows to steady and trap me.

“Here we are again,” she says, batting her lashes.

“Again? Where?”

Her eyes browse the doorframe above us and mine follow. Nana reinstalled the godforsaken mistletoe while I was upstairs.

“You seem like a nice person,” I say lamely. “But I’m gonna go.”

Backing away, I catch a glimpse of Sadie snickering at me from the stairs. I already know my fumbling escape tactics make me look like a cowardly fool. I don’t need an eight-year-old making me feel like one, too.

Mentally, I add a mistletoe hunt to my to-do list as the number one task. I’m searching this store (and the whole town if necessary) to prevent this unbearable kind of encounter from ever happening again.