The Christmas Crush

Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Sugar paced the office floor like she knew Lawrence had a big idea to share and was offended he wouldn’t let her in on the secret. Lawrence checked the paper calendar he kept on his scratched oak desk. Paper calendars were old school, but without them he was hopeless, missing appointments, forgetting to make orders until the last minute. He set his teacup on the desk, where it would be sure to add a new ring to the many already scattered across the scarred surface.

Yes, if he worked overtime, he could juggle it, make time for a new venture. Despite Elena’s crack about Sweet L’s limited hours, he knew a mountain of work went on behind the scenes, before the first customer walked in the door. Today alone he’d completed a stock check, written out the baking schedule for this week, juggled his own schedule to allow Carm a late start tomorrow, and test-baked his new recipe for candied orange ginger cookies.

Carm’s late start tomorrow would make it tight, but it might be okay. He needed it to be okay.

Don’t stress about the roadblocks , he told himself. He scrolled through the contacts on his phone, tapping on the one with a picture of an elderly woman with a mass of white curls. The phone rang and rang. It took Nana a while to get to her house phone. She didn’t like cell phones and she always left her cordless phone on the kitchen table, even though he bugged her to keep it handy in case she needed something.

“Hi, pumpkin,” she said when she finally answered. Nana loved the “new” technology of caller identification. Her favorite thing was answering as if she’d been expecting your call all day.

“Hi, Nana Banana. What are you doing this morning?” Nana got up with the sun, so Lawrence never had to worry about calling her too early. Outside his window, he saw Pamela, the florist, place a few miniature evergreens in red-and-white-striped pots outside her shop’s front door. Mr. Martinez salted the bookshop’s front step, then came over to scatter some on Lawrence’s step. The bookseller’s breath came out foggy as he worked. Lawrence lifted a hand in thanks. He’d make sure to pop over with a paper cup of coffee for Mr. Martinez later. New Hope Main Street was slowly waking up.

“I got some steps on my treadmill. I’m already at four thousand three hundred and one.”

“That’s incredible, Nana.”

“I love this step counter watch you got me. Except for when my shows are on and it buzzes to make me get up to walk around. Nag, nag, nag.” Nana chuckled. He heard her turn down a morning news program. She never minded if Lawrence interrupted. “What about you, pumpkin?”

Without meaning to, he let out an enormous sigh. Sugar came over and rested her head on his knee. He ran his fingers through her fur, and she looked up at him with thoughtful eyes. “You know, the usual. Busy. We have special orders every day, which is good. A lot to get done, but that’s good. All good overall, I’d say.”

“Yes. Sounds like everything is quite good.” Nana went quiet. Lawrence suspected she was waiting for him to confess what wasn’t good. He took a sip of his English Breakfast tea.

“Do you think, on top off all the holiday orders, the holiday craft fair, the library open house, and regular stock, I can swing bringing a few dozen cookies to a cookie swap event? Home Baker’s Quarterly sent out an email a few weeks back saying they were sponsoring a swap nearby at Snowcap Inn.”

“Cookie swaps are lovely, dear. My pals and I used to have them all the time, back when your dad was a little one. I always brought dozens of my almond crescents, and that beautiful crystal platter Grandpa got me. We’d have eggnog—and yes, it was spiked, your nana wasn’t always an old bird—chat and trade cookies. By the end of the night, we’d have listened to the White Christmas soundtrack about twenty times and I’d go home with a platter full of fifteen different varieties of cookies.”

Lawrence smiled as Nana reminisced. He pictured her in her frilly apron, the one with holly-and-berries fabric, toasting the holidays with her closest friends. Creamy eggnog with a splash of brandy. “I bet those almond crescents were the first to be snapped up.”

“You’d be right. Are they still a best seller?”

“Everyone in New Hope puts them at the top of their special orders in December.” Crumbly but never dry, the cookies dissolved on the tongue, leaving behind a subtle almond flavor and mellow sweetness from a dusting of powdered sugar. When he was a kid in Nana’s kitchen, shaping the lumps of dough into crescents had been his favorite part. Nana let him get creative and come up with almond alphabet cookies or almond hearts. The funky shapes didn’t always turn out well, but Nana insisted experimentation was an important part of innovation.

“You do have your hands full over there. Why do you need to do the swap?”

Lawrence explained he wanted to entice new customers. He left Elena and Sparkle Cookie out of it, and he didn’t mention the threat of rising rent either. Sugar wagged her tail when he scratched under her chin to keep himself calm.

“I’m sure anyone who tried your cookies will become a loyal customer.”

“Our cookies, Nana.”

“Now, you’ve taken my recipes and run with them. They’re a whole new thing thanks to your talent. What would you say if I came to the bakery for a spell, helped you make a few batches? My morning is clear. I have an eye doctor appointment after lunch, but I know we’d be done by then.”

Lawrence wanted to whoop with joy. He hadn’t called her expecting to gain a free assistant for the day. He wouldn’t say no, though. Nana helping would make the day smoother and easier in a dozen small ways. Instead of Carm having to rush from the front of the house to the back to balance walk-in customers with packing orders, she could focus on the front while Lawrence packed. And he could take breaks to bake with Nana.

A hundred-pound weight floated off his body. He felt eight years old again, excited to spend the day tweaking recipes, munching cookies, and goofing around with Nana. “I’ll come get you in a few minutes! Thanks so much, Nana Banana.”

Nana might be eighty, but she could turn out five dozen cookies like it was nothing.

“No, no. You stay there and work. I want to start up the sedan. Can’t let it sit around in this cold.”

“All right. You toot the horn when you get here, and I can walk you in. There’s salt down, but there could be hidden icy patches.”

“You worry too much. I’ve been tromping around New Hope winters since the Stone Age. Still, I guess it can’t hurt to have an escort. I’d hate to slip and break something before the senior center Christmas Eve dance. I promised Mr. Simmons I’d dance the waltz with him.”

“Trey’s grandpa?” Lawrence exclaimed, plopping down his teacup in surprise. Tea sloshed over the sides. “Am I going to end up related to my best friend?”

“Goodness, what a romantic imagination you have. Let’s see how the dance goes. What if I step on his toe and scare him off?”

Lawrence knew all about scaring people off. He couldn’t believe Nana would ever make a bad impression. The whole of New Hope found her delightful. Her social calendar booked up weeks in advance. He jotted a note on the pad next to his laptop: Ask Nana for advice on interpersonal skills.

After his disastrous first encounter with Elena Voss, he doubted he’d get a second chance. Not that he wanted one, per se. He wanted … he wanted to be more poised in general. Elena had simply shown him where he was lacking. He wouldn’t improve for her, since he would never see her again. He’d do it for himself.

“I can’t wait, Nana.” They said their goodbyes for now, and he hustled out to the kitchen to keep working.