Second Chances in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #3)

50. Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Seven

January 1st

I t was a new year, and Angie was halfway through her chemotherapy schedule. Radiation was next. She was getting there.

Unlike other years, she’d allowed herself to sleep in rather than getting up early and rushing off to Coffee Girl. She’d get there eventually. Tom had said he was coming over that morning, and she excitedly looked forward to that. Over the last few months, something had definitely shifted in their relationship. She was hopeful and looking forward to seeing what unfolded. She washed down one of her nausea tablets with some milk.

There was a knock at the door and Angie answered it, a blast of cold air blowing in and causing her to shiver. She’d already put on her knit hat.

Tom stood there wearing a winter jacket, gloves, and a grin. At his side, he held an old-fashioned wooden sled with bright red metal runners.

“So, you do own a coat,” she said.

“Of course,” he said with a wink. “I’m not a total idiot.”

She laughed, and he responded, “Get your coat and gloves, Evangeline.”

“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.”

She set her half-empty glass of milk down on the counter and quickly pulled on a coat over her sweater. She completed the outfit by wrapping a scarf around her neck. As she walked out the door, she pulled her winter gloves out of the pocket of her coat and pulled them on.

Tom stood in the driveway, looking up at the sky. “It’s a nice day.”

She looked up at the cloudless blue sky and the weak, watery sun. It was the type of crisp winter day that made you glad to be alive. As a kid, she’d loved days like this. She’d stay outside all day with DeeDee and Debbie, all bundled up in their snowsuits, building snowmen and igloos using old buckets.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I am.”

They walked to the end of the driveway, where Tom stopped and set the sled on the snow-covered sidewalk. There was a small green-and-black tartan blanket, which he folded in half and used to cover the seat of the sled. “Hop on.”

She hadn’t been on a sled since she was a kid. Eagerly, she took Tom’s outstretched hand and situated herself on the blanket, pulling her knees up and gripping the sides of the sled.

With apparent ease, Tom pulled the sled over the ankle-deep snow toward the best sledding hill in Lavender Bay, conversing as he went. At the top of the hill was the mansion that had been built by George Gibson, founder of Gibson’s Grape Jelly. His daughter, Grace, resided there now, as she had her whole life. For as long as anyone could remember, the kids of Lavender Bay had flocked to that hill in the wintertime with their sleds, encouraged by old Mr. Gibson himself.

That morning, New Year’s Day morning, the hill was crowded. The sunshine caught the colors of the various winter coats all over the hill: red, purple, yellow, blue, and green. It looked like a white cake covered in sprinkles.

“Hold on, Tom.” Angie said.

He stopped and turned around.

“I’ll walk from here.” She stood up, folded the blanket, and tucked it beneath her arm.

“Ready for some sledding?” he asked.

“Definitely.” She’d been looking forward to it.

She was breathless by the time she reached the top of the hill. The two of them arranged themselves on the sled, with Tom behind Angie. He held on tight to her.

“Hey, Mister,” said a kid of about ten. “You’re a little big for sledding.”

“Says who?” Tom asked good-naturedly. Before the kid could respond, Tom pushed off, and their sled took off down the hill at a high rate of speed.

Eyes wide, Angie gripped the side rails, hanging on. She didn’t remember the hill being that steep. Of course, it had been more than thirty years since she’d gone sledding.

Behind her, Tom shouted, “Woo-hoo!” and threw his fist in the air. His enthusiasm made Angie laugh.

They sledded for the next hour, until it became too much for Angie to climb back up the hill. Her nose was runny and her cheeks were cold, but she couldn’t stop smiling.

As they left the hill, he offered to give her a lift on the sled, but she refused. Her breathing had returned to normal, and she was able to walk.

“I really enjoyed myself, Tom. Thanks.”

“Living is found in the simple moments. Remember that.”

With a grin, she mock-saluted him. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to him, kissing the side of her head. “Okay, smarty-pants.”

She slid an arm around his waist and kept it there as they walked back to her house together.