The Christmas Cookie Crush (Arcadian Falls Christmas #4)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Austin

I smile at the woman in the elf costume as she approaches my counter, a little confused by the scowl on her face. “Hi. What can I get you?” I keep my tone neutral but polite. She’s mad about something, but it probably has nothing to do with me.

“What are you doing here?” she spits, eyes snapping, behaving entirely unlike the jolly elves I’m used to seeing at the North Pole. I know I’m not a kid in line to see Santa or anything, but still, you’d think that if she’s in costume, she’d stay in character. Glancing around, I notice several children in earshot, once again clocking how much more crowded it is than I remember as a kid.

ChristmasFest has always been a big deal, but it’s grown a lot since I was here last. We came a few times while I was in high school, but I mostly remember it from when I was a lot younger. There are more booths, better decorations, and way, way more people than there used to be.

Lowering my voice, I lean forward on the counter. “Uh, running the Give and Cake booth at the ChristmasFest.” I gesture at her costume. “Just like I’m assuming you’re working at the North Pole.”

Her scowl intensifies, and she looks like she wants to stomp her foot. “Do you seriously not know who I am?”

I blink at her for a few seconds, straightening to study her face, but come up empty. Shrugging, I shake my head. “Sorry. I got nothin’.”

Huffing, she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, pressing her pert boobs up against the V neck of her green velvet dress. She’s pretty and cute. I feel like I’d remember her if we’d met before.

She casts a glance around, apparently just now aware that people—kids—might be paying attention, then leans in close and lowers her voice. “Nora? Nora Daniels? Dylan’s sister?”

Blinking again, I call up the memory of the obnoxious little kid that used to plague Dylan and me. That child ran around barefoot, covered in dirt more often than not, and I’d never have guessed she’d grow up into the gorgeous woman in front of me. “Wait, seriously? Nora?” I break into a big grin, but for some reason that just makes her scowl more. “What are you up to these days? I mean, other than the obvious. And how’s Dylan?”

Her mouth drops open, incredulous. “What am I up to these days? Are you joking right now?”

“Uhhh … no?” I’m not sure why she’s being so hostile. “I’m sorry, have I done something to offend you?”

She splutters and shakes, then smacks a card down on the counter in front of me. “Just give me a snowflake cookie, okay?”

My brows climb my forehead. “Riiiight. No problem.” I ring up the order and offer the card reader so she can pay, then get a snowflake cookie out of the case and place it in a white pastry bag. “Seriously, though,” I try again as I hand it to her. “You’re clearly pissed about something. At first I figured it must just be dealing with the public which we both know can be challenging at times. Maybe too many screaming babies, I dunno. But now it feels like it’s personal, and I’m just really lost on what I could’ve done considering I haven’t even been here in years.”

“You,” she hisses through clenched teeth, snatching the bag from my hand. “You made my life miserable . I was so. So. Glad . When you moved away. But then you kept coming back. And every time, I hoped you’d have grown up, matured, decided not to be such a little shit”—she has the grace to whisper the last part—“but my hopes were always dashed.”

I have to bite back a laugh at the last line. Her hopes were dashed? Seriously?

I spread my hands and try for an apologetic smile. “Look, I’m not sure what I did that was so horrible, but I promise I won’t do anything while I’m here to make your life worse. Truce?” I hold my hand across the counter for her to shake.

She looks at it like I’m diseased, her lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re already making it worse.” And with that parting shot, she flounces away.

The encounter with Nora sticks with me for the rest of the day. I can’t even remember the last time I saw her—sometime in high school, I’m guessing. But I feel like it couldn’t have been even that recent.

Thinking back, I try to remember when Dylan and I stopped hanging out. It was after I moved away. The first couple summers we palled around as much as ever when my family and I came to visit. But as high school progressed, he got busy with summer jobs, camps, and the friends that were here all the time, and we just didn’t really hang out any more. I haven’t seen him in forever, and we’ve lost touch.

Will he be home for Christmas? It’d be cool to reconnect if so.

And maybe he can help me remember what I did that so terrorized his little sister. Or maybe we did it together?

I remember her being around a lot, and while we weren’t exactly the nicest, I’m sure—she was kind of an annoying kid, and we were obnoxious middle schoolers—I don’t think we did anything truly terrible. I feel like I’d remember if we did. It’s not like we shaved off her eyebrows in her sleep or cut her hair.

We were just normal, run-of-the-mill obnoxious. Or so I thought.

But I guess Nora remembers it differently.

When I walk into Grampy and Nana’s house, I’m greeted with the smell of something delicious and savory. “I’m home,” I call into the house because the living room is empty.

Nana bustles out of the kitchen, a smile on her face. “How was today?”

“Good. Busy as ever.”

She shakes her head, watching me as I toe off my boots and hang up my coat in the closet by the front door. “It’ll only get busier as we get closer to Christmas.”

“Don’t I know it.” I rub my chilled fingers together and step forward to give her a hug. “It’s already busier now than it was last week. The first weekend was pretty crazy, but it slowed down during the week. Now it’s constant, no matter what day it is.” I spent the first few days I was here figuring out where and how I could fill in the best. It was tricky navigating Grampy’s moods, which were by turns angry at being unable to work and thankful for my help. He introduced me to Sheila, the head baker and his assistant manager at the main store. I worked there for a few hours a day to understand how the business runs, then the week of Thanksgiving, she and I set up the kiosk in the ChristmasFest space, and I’ve been working there basically from opening at ten in the morning until it closes every day since. Most days it closes at eight o’clock, but Sundays close early at six.

Nana nods. “That’s how ChristmasFest goes. You’re keeping up okay, though? Do we need to hire someone else?” She pinches her lips together, her eyes going unfocused as she gazes over my shoulder, her brows coming together in thought. “We could probably afford another part-timer to get us through the last few weeks if we need it.”

I shake my head. “I’m good. We have a good system worked out where we have someone switch between the shop and ChristmasFest to cover breaks or help out wherever there are more customers. We’ve got it covered, Nana. Don’t worry.”

“Okay. Let me know if that changes, though.”

Bending, I kiss her cheek. “It won’t. But thanks.”

She shoos me toward the hall. “Go wash your hands. I’ll heat up your dinner.”

Grinning, I do as she says, grateful that I won’t have to wait to eat. At the end of a long shift, I’m starving. And I’m working more than full-time hours right now. It would be nice to have an extra person on hand, but I know the margins are tight, especially with Grampy’s medical bills. I can survive for a few more weeks until ChristmasFest is over.

As I’m washing my hands, Nora’s angry face flashes in my mind, and I find myself trying once again to figure out what I did that was so terrible to her that she’s hung onto it for all these years. But still, I’ve got nothing.

“Nana, do you remember Dylan Daniels?” I ask as I accept the plate piled high with a filling casserole full of chicken, rice, and veggies in a creamy sauce.

“Of course I do, honey. He was your best friend when you were kids. Lived right down the street. Did you see him? I hadn’t heard he was back in town yet, though I know the Daniels kids usually come home for Christmas time. Makes sense with that family.”

I chuckle, knowing exactly what she means. For a family that’s built their living on Christmas, it’d be awkward if their kids didn’t come home for the holidays. “No, I didn’t see him. I saw his sister Nora.”

Nana nods, a knowing twinkle in her eye. “Ah, yes. Nora. The youngest of the bunch. She’s very pretty these days.”

I grunt noncommittally, not rising to the bait, even if it’s true. “She seems to think I tormented her when we were kids. Do you remember anything about that? Because I can’t come up with anything too terrible.”

Nana screws up her face in thought, sitting across from me at the table and folding the paper napkin still sitting there. “No,” she says at last. “Nothing I heard about, anyway. And I feel like if you did anything awful, your mom would’ve vented to me about it at least.”

Shoveling food in my mouth, I nod in agreement.

“Why?” Nana presses. “What happened? What did she say?”

After swallowing, I fill her in on my encounter with Nora, and Nana’s eyebrows pull together, her face reflecting my own confusion.

She shakes her head. “I can’t imagine what you could’ve done to her. You were always such a sweet boy. Maybe she has you confused with someone else.”

“Maybe,” I concede, but not because I believe that. She called me by name. She knew exactly who I was. She wasn’t mistaken. She hates me. I just don’t know why.

“How’s Grampy?” I ask, because it’s unusual that I haven’t seen him around tonight.

Nana’s perplexed frown turns to one of concern. “Oh, he’s okay. Just tired. Physical therapy today, you know. It really wears him out.”

I nod as I finish my plate, trying to disguise my own concern. “That seems normal, though, doesn’t it? I mean, between the fall, surgery, and now physical therapy, his body’s been through a lot. Resting seems good.”

She hums, and it’s the same kind of noncommittal sound I gave a few minutes ago.

“Give him time, Nana. He’ll be back to his usual antics before we know it.” Reaching over, I give her hand a pat before standing and taking my plate to the sink.

“I hope so,” she murmurs, but with her attention focused on the napkin in her hands, I’m not sure the statement is meant more for me or for herself.

“He will,” I say again, needing the reassurance as much as I think she does.

Standing, she crosses the kitchen and gives me a hug. “Go relax. You’ve had a long day. I’m just going to put the leftovers away and get to bed too.”

“I got it, Nana,” I tell her, reaching for the dish before she can do anything. “Go rest. You’ve been taking care of Grampy, and I know that can’t be easy. Let me put the food away. As tired as I am, I need some time to unwind before I go to bed.”

Patting my cheek, she gives me a smile. “See what I mean? Such a sweet boy. I can’t imagine what you could’ve done to that little girl to make her so upset about it still.”

“Me either, Nana.” But if I see her again, I plan to find out.