The Christmas Cookie Wars

Chapter Two

Two

“ You’re going to be the cookie committee president?” Kelsey belted out her signature raspy laugh. She sounded like Stevie Nicks.

“What’s so funny?” Melody taped off the box she’d packed up with four tunics she’d designed. When she’d opened Timbre Couture the year after Thomas’s death, she’d never dreamed her modest little boutique would take off because of online sales. In five years, she’d taken over an additional adjacent storefront on Main Street just to house inventory and run the shipping operation. This side of their space was a perpetual mess—folding tables covered with piles of the clothing, stacks of collapsed cardboard boxes, their printing and labeling equipment. But without her mini warehouse, they’d barely be scraping by financially, given they were a fashion boutique in a small mountain town that relied on seasonal tourism.

“I’ve tasted your cookies, that’s all.” Her sister slapped a printed label on the box and then reapplied her lip gloss. They looked a lot alike, with soft brown highlighted hair (there was only one decent color stylist in town) and they were the same height, but the similarities weren’t obvious because Melody didn’t put as much effort in. Out of the two of them, Kelsey took more care with her appearance these days.

While Melody hadn’t had time to go home and change after her stint in the principal’s office, her sister showed up to work in the hand-embroidered cardigan Melody had designed as part of their exclusive Cookeville Collection, along with the black velvet skinny pants Melody had loved creating but could never quite pull off wearing herself. She rarely appeared as put together as Kels, but her sister also still had her husband, Doug, to help her out during the morning routine. Not to mention, their six-year-old daughter, Genevieve, was already going on twenty. Kels didn’t have to remind Genevieve to shower or comb her hair or change her socks like she was constantly doing with the twins.

“I can’t believe Charlene stepped down,” her sister said. “I mean, didn’t she go to the Culinary Institute of America or something? She owns a catering company, for crying out loud.”

“So?” Melody rifled through the stock of magenta slouchy-fit sweaters to find a medium and then carefully wrapped it in their branded silver tissue paper, sealing the package with a sticker. Presentation was everything, after all. “Charlene also has an ego problem, which is why she tried to disband the committee and sabotage Christmas.”

The woman had probably designed the whole debacle to force Jonathan to get on his knees and beg for her to come back. “I can totally handle the cookie committee.” It might even be a good way to reconnect with Finn and Tate. She could get them involved—they’d said themselves how much they loved Cookie Daze. This could actually be the perfect scenario.

She taped the seam of yet another box and set it on the growing stack. “And anyway, I’ll have all the help I need to make this holiday season a huge success. Starting with you.”

“Ha! I can’t bake either.” Kels plastered the label on their last box of the day’s orders and then traipsed underneath the archway that led back into the main store.

“Baking is irrelevant.” Melody followed her sister to the cash registers near the entrance. She’d kept the design for the storefront chic and simple, leaving the walls as the original exposed brick and adding floating shelves between tiered clothing racks. The colors of the accent chairs and checkout counters were soft and calming—seafoam green and a subtle coral. Of course, she and Kels had gone all out in the holiday decorating department. They’d placed white trees in every corner of the space, adorning them with ornaments in all shades of blue. Blingy snowflakes dangled from the open ceiling, and pink garlands outlined every leaded-glass window.

“We’re both creative. I have big ideas and you’re good at bringing them to life.” Kels had been her sidekick since she’d been born. Melody simply couldn’t run the cookie committee without her. “Besides, you still owe me for dog-sitting Turk while you were in Maui.” Two of her rugs hadn’t survived her sister’s Great Dane.

“Fine.” Kelsey sighed, drama queen that she was. “What do we have to do?”

Melody paused from unlocking the computer. That was a good question. She wasn’t sure exactly how the cookie committee went about their business. She’d attempted to contact Charlene for a knowledge transfer but hadn’t heard anything yet. “We need to recruit new members,” she decided. Maybe some of the old ones would come back too. “And then we’ll need to have a meeting. The annual cookie swap is supposed to happen next weekend.” That would kick off the chain reaction of holiday events that would consume her life until Christmas.

“Just let me know when and where to show up.” Kels drifted to the center of the boutique and started to straighten a shelf of sweaters.

Another good question. Melody logged in to the system in preparation for opening. “I guess I’d better ask Mr. Braxton when and where the committee usually met.” Maybe she should’ve gotten a few additional details before storming out of his office in a huff.

“Why would you ask Jonathan about the meetings?” Her sister moved to a rack of scarves, carefully refolding them one by one. That was why they made such a good team. Kels was meticulous while Melody was…well…flexible.

“As the principal, he’s on the committee. He just can’t run it.”

“Really?” Kels whirled and smirked at her, bouncing her eyebrows. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place? If Mr. Braxton will be at the meetings, I’m definitely in.”

“Oh, come on.” Melody threw a feather pen at her. “You’ll join for him but not for your own sister?” She shouldn’t be surprised. When Jonathan took over as principal at Cookeville Elementary, the school suddenly had more volunteers than they knew what to do with. It was pathetic the way women threw themselves at him. And now Kels was all gaga too! “I have to say, I’m disappointed in you.”

“Jonathan Braxton is hot stuff, honey, like a homegrown Idris Elba, in case you hadn’t noticed.” Kels crept a few steps closer. Her prying gaze intensified. “ Have you noticed? You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately.”

Ha! Melody opened a drawer to restock their stack of tissue paper for checkout. “It’s difficult to notice how hot someone is when they’re constantly lecturing you.” The only thing she’d really noticed about Mr. Braxton was his diverse reading tastes, but now didn’t seem like a good time to inform Kels about the Nicholas Sparks novel. That would likely only add to Mr. Braxton’s appeal in her sister’s book. “He’s downright stodgy. And then there’s the issue of his geriatric wardrobe. He must’ve inherited a whole crate of sweater vests and bow ties from his great-grandfather or something.”

“You could help him out in that department.” Her sister squealed and hurried to the men’s section near the back of the store. “Picture him in this.” She ripped a royal blue cashmere sweater off the rack, waving it in the air.

Uttering a tortured groan, Melody went back to staring at the computer screen. She got so tired of her family trying to match her up with every eligible bachelor they knew. Did it ever occur to them that she didn’t mind being single? “I don’t want to picture Mr. Braxton in anything, thank you very much.”

Kels let out a cackle. “That works too.”

“I mean, I don’t want to picture him at all!” Leave it to Kels to make her blush. This was the boys’ principal they were talking about! “Mr. Braxton can’t stand me. He thinks I’m irresponsible and flighty.” Which were some of her best qualities, in her opinion. “Basically, we have nothing in common.”

“Seems to me that man could use a little more spontaneity in his life.” Her sister traipsed back to the checkout counter, leaning in across from her while she batted her eyelash extensions. “And you might be the perfect person to help him with that.”

“I can assure you, I’m not.” Melody turned away to dust off the glass jewelry case. “Hello! I have no room in my life for any kind of relationship. Especially with my kids’ principal.” She couldn’t even imagine what kind of scandal that would cause around here. “I’m happy with things the way they are.” Maybe her life wasn’t easy, but it was simple.

“The problem is, things don’t stay the same forever.” Kels delivered the words in a gentle murmur. “You said yourself the boys have gotten a lot busier lately. They’re growing up, Melly. The older they get, the more room you’re going to have in your life.”

She didn’t want more room. Single parenting had been the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she wanted her life consumed with Finn and Tate. She wanted them to fill her time and her thoughts and her heart so much that there was no room for anyone else. They’d already lost a parent and, no matter how old they were, they deserved to have her be completely available for them with no distractions or complications. All she wanted to do was keep the magic alive for them, keep their father alive for them, during one more holiday season. “I should go on my committee-recruiting mission.” Before the tears came. She loved this time of year, but boy did it make her heart ache sometimes. “Can you hold down the fort for a while?”

“Yep. I’ve got it.” Her sister’s tone held one part sympathy and two parts defeat, but she let Melody slip out the door without another word.

Out on the street, she could breathe again. The cold air unlocked her chest and chilled the sting out of her eyes. She and Kels had had similar conversations over the last couple of years, and she understood where her sister was coming from.

Each member in her family had tried bringing up the dating thing from every angle. Thomas would want you to be happy. It’s okay to move on. You need to focus on yourself too. Those were all true statements. She didn’t disagree with them. But they didn’t understand—it wasn’t guilt that kept her from moving on. It was a lack of desire. Sure, she’d noticed a man here and there. She’d admired some, even. But no one except for Thomas had ever stirred her heart. So she’d filled her soul with love for other things—for her boys and her family and her business.

And for romance novels from the used bookstore, if she was being honest.

Maybe those things were enough for her. Even if they weren’t enough to satisfy her family.

Refocusing on her mission, Melody ambled down the sidewalk, passing the T-Shirts & Trinkets shop and the Tough Cookies Winery, both of which were still closed at ten o’clock in the morning. In fact, most places on the main drag in Cookeville didn’t open until noon during the winter—everyone typically liked to let the snowplows get out to clear the roads before they ventured to work. She inhaled the crisp air, tinged with woodsmoke, and reveled in the quiet. Winter in the mountains might be cold and bitter, but all that snow sure did create a wonderland, especially this morning. Sunlight poured down from the royal-blue sky, highlighting glitter in the layer of powder.

The town beautification committee took their job seriously during the holidays. Decorations lined the streets and storefronts and stayed up until January 15. Most of the trappings centered on the town’s cookie-themed past with colorful fiberglass confections standing between wrought-iron lampposts and garlands of cookie lights strung up between buildings. Funny, hand-painted signs hung in many of the shop windows. A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand. Christmas: when eating cookies for breakfast is totally acceptable. Joy to the cookies, the oven has dinged! Official Christmas Cookie Tester. Christmas Cookie Guru.

Now that she had an official position on the cookie committee, she’d have to find a kitschy sign for her storefront too.

Continuing on, Melody maneuvered around the gingerbread cookie house built between two trees and pulled open the door to Chester’s Coffee Café—the only other business that was brave enough to open in the morning.

Nearly every table had already been occupied, one in particular by some of her favorite people.

“Hey, Mom and Dad.” She removed her gloves and stuffed them into the pockets of her peacoat.

“Melly!” Her dad tossed down the playing cards he was holding to lurch to his feet and dragged over another chair so she could join them at the table, along with Aunt Bernice, Uncle Clive, and their friend Joan. Her parents and their besties met at the coffee shop three mornings a week to play poker with pennies before her mom went to her part-time job as music teacher at Finn and Tate’s school. Right now, it appeared her mother was winning.

“Surprised to see you this morning,” her mom mused, brows pinched together as she focused on her cards. As usual, her curly hair was pulled back into a loose braid the way Melody always remembered—though now the lovely auburn had salty streaks of gray. She could only hope she aged as well as her mother. “Kelsey said the online shop has been extra busy this month.”

“So busy.” But you didn’t hear her complaining about that extra business. Though it still wouldn’t be enough for her to bust the budget with headphones for the boys.

“I bought each of my granddaughters that sparkly sweater you designed for Christmas.” Joan peered up at her above the tops of her bifocals, which were perched on the end of her nose. With her perfectly coiffed white hair and painted red lips, she looked like she should be the cover model for an AARP publication. “They’re going to love them, honey. Beautiful.”

“And I bought those darling sweater dresses for my daughters and the grandgirls.” Aunt Bernice was never one to be upstaged when it came to supporting Melody and Kelsey’s endeavor. “Plus a few scarves and those silk pajamas. So elegant!” Her mother’s twin sister beamed victoriously.

“Oh, you two,” Uncle Clive muttered, adjusting his Coke-bottle glasses. “Everything’s gotta be a competition, doesn’t it?”

“We all know I spend the most money at Melody and Kelsey’s store.” Her mom rearranged the cards in her hand. “So let’s quit the squabbling and get back to our game before I have to get to work.”

Melody clamped her lips to stave off a laugh. If her mother hadn’t had that huge pile of pennies in front of her, she would’ve been the one trying to distract the group. “Thank you all for shopping Timbre for Christmas. We wouldn’t survive without you.” These Golden Girls had literally picked her up and carried her after Thomas had died. “Which is one reason I’m here. I need some help.”

Joan set down her cards, offering her full attention. “Sure, Mel. Anything for you.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve capturing more bats from your attic,” Aunt Bernice caveated.

“No, it doesn’t have anything to do with bats.” Thank the good lord. Three years ago, she’d heard these strange noises coming from her ceiling in the middle of the night and had called her parents in a panic—and they’d then called Uncle Clive and Aunt Bernice, who’d rushed right over. When they’d opened the attic door, the bats had flown out, dive-bombing them, and they were all running around screaming until her father had saved the day by opening a window and shooing them out with a broom. “This favor has to do with cookies.”

“Cookies?” Her father dropped his playing cards on the table again. “I’m listening.”

“Well, it actually has to do with the cookie committee. I’m taking it over.” Melody made a ta-da gesture.

The entire table blinked at her.

“But you can’t bake.” Her mother finally set down her cards too.

Why did everyone keep saying that? “I can bake. I just don’t do it very often.” Sheesh. She didn’t have time to bake. She had a lot going on. “Running the committee doesn’t have much to do with baking anyway. There’s all the event planning and the fundraising for the school. Charlene tried to disband the committee right before Christmas, which would have meant there’d be no Cookie Daze this year.”

Joan gasped. “No Cookie Daze?”

“Well, that’s just plain ridiculous.” Aunt Bernice snatched the carafe from the center of the table and poured herself another mug full of coffee. “That Charlene. She’s always causing trouble around here.”

“The woman loves attention,” her mother agreed. “I’m not surprised she created drama before the biggest event of the season.”

Melody didn’t have time for drama. “I can’t imagine a holiday in Cookeville without Cookie Daze, so I told Mr. Braxton I would run the committee this year.”

“Mr. Braxton,” Joan murmured dreamily. “He’s on the committee too, right? As a staff representative?” She patted Melody’s hand. “You can count me in, sweetie.”

“He’s a little young for you, don’t you think?” Aunt Bernice muttered. “I’m in too, Melly. I can do it all—bake, organize, fund-raise. As you’ll remember, I was the president of the Junior League for many, many years.”

“Over three decades ago,” Melody’s mother pointed out.

“Two and a half,” Bernice countered.

She’d better interrupt before the argument delved into the history of the Junior League. “So you three will help me out?”

“You bet.” Joan leaned close to her. “Mr. Braxton may be too young for me, but he’s certainly not too young for you.”

No, but he made her feel too young. Like a flighty, irresponsible teenager who constantly had to look over her shoulder to make sure she hadn’t done something wrong. “He’s Finn and Tate’s principal. And Mom’s boss. Seeing as how the boys don’t have a great track record at school, we all have a complicated relationship with Mr. Braxton.”

“Hooey.” Her mother picked up her cards again. “My grandsons are angels, and I dare anyone to say differently. I’m definitely joining that committee. And I’ll tell you something: I love Jonathan to death but if he gets too snooty for his own good, I’ll put him in his place. Don’t you worry.”

“I don’t want you to get fired.” That would mean her mom would spend her afternoons at the boutique, which might be a little much. She wasn’t exactly shy about sharing her honest opinions about how customers looked in the clothes they tried on. “So let me handle Mr. Braxton, okay?” She didn’t need to give Finn and Tate’s principal one more reason to dislike her.

After her mother gave a noncommittal grunt, Melody stood up and scanned the coffee shop. Having these three ladies would help, but they would need more worker bees if they were going to save the STEM program. She scanned the rest of the café for potential volunteers. Aha! Around the counter sat Adele, Prisha, and Eden—three of the other STEM club moms.

Melody bid her family goodbye and traipsed to their spot. “Hey, ladies.”

“Hey, Mel.” Prisha pushed out the chair next to her. “Want to join us?”

“Only for a few.” Kels shouldn’t have to run the store alone all morning. “I’m glad I ran into you three. I’m sure you’ve heard by now that the cookie committee disbanded.”

The three of them traded knowing looks.

“We’ve heard, all right,” Eden said. “Such a bummer. I’ll bet they nix the STEM club by the end of the year.”

“Not if we all step in.” Her heart started pounding at the possibilities. They could do this. They could save their kids’ club and the entire holiday season! “I told Mr. Braxton I’d lead the committee. Right now we desperately need more members. And I’d love to count on your support.”

Adele’s expression was the first to fall. “Oh. Um. Wow. That’s great, Mel. Really.” She picked up her mug and held it in both hands. “But I can’t join the committee. We have too much going on this month. Sorry.”

What was with her dodgy gaze?

“Us too,” Prisha added quickly. “You know how chaotic the holiday season is.” She waved a hand through the air. “Busy, busy, busy!”

Her voice hit too high a note. “Eden?” Melody glared at the other woman.

Sure enough, she squirmed too. “Look, Mel…we can’t. Okay? I’d hate to see the STEM program go as much as you, but none of us want to get in the middle of this.”

“The middle of what?” she managed to ask even with her jaw locked up. She had a feeling she already knew what was coming.

Prisha looked around them. “Charlene disbanded the committee because Deb complained she wouldn’t listen to anyone else’s ideas,” she whispered.

Melody almost laughed. “Well, she doesn’t listen to anyone else’s ideas.”

Adele swiveled her head too, glancing around them like she was afraid they were surrounded by spies. “All I know is that three people sided with Deb and now no one at school will talk to them. They’re being completely ostracized. We can’t risk it. I mean, our kiddos have auditions for the spring musical coming up, and you know who’s directing the play.”

Her shoulders slouched against the chair back. “Let me guess. Charlene?”

“Levi will be devastated if he doesn’t get a part,” Eden half whispered.

“So will Saanvi.” Prisha’s downcast expression apologized. “I’m so sorry, but she’s been working too hard for this. She wants the lead this year.”

“So we’ll go to Mr. Braxton and tell him she’s intimidating everyone who crosses her.” This was ridiculous. There had to be some accountability here.

“He can’t fire a volunteer,” Adele argued. “And you won’t find enough people who are willing to complain out loud. She has too many connections.”

“Fine.” They could chicken out but she wasn’t going to back down. “Even if you won’t be on the committee, you’ll come to the cookie swap next week, right?” They needed as many people as possible to show up and pay the suggested donation in order to get this train back on the tracks.

There went that guilty look bouncing between the three of them again.

“The thing is, we already have plans.” A grimace warped Eden’s mouth.

Melody crossed her arms and waited. This should be good…

“Charlene is hosting a special pre-tryout practice for the play that afternoon,” Prisha blurted.

That seemed about right. Charlene knew exactly how many kids participated in the spring musical. She’d likely planned a competing event on the off chance someone was clueless enough to take over the cookie committee. “I can’t believe this.”

“If the kids miss it, they won’t get a part, or at least a good one.” Adele’s tone begged Melody to understand. “You know how Charlene works.”

“Charlene works that way because she gets away with it.” They were letting her get away with it. “That’s the way Charlene will always work unless someone stands up to her.”

And Melody was not afraid. It was time someone put an end to the queen’s reign.