Page 16 of The Merry Matchmaker

“Maybe Santa will bring that to you for Christmas,” said the child’s mother. “Can I come back?” she asked Adele.

“They’re going fast, but I’ll save this one for you,” Adele promised.

They weren’t going all that fast, but Adele never let details get in the way of merchandizing hype.

“How’d it go?” she asked Frankie as their shoppers left the store.

“We’re good. He’s coming over for dinner and bringing his new manager, who happens to be single. Stef’s coming, too.”

Adele gave Frankie a suspicious look. “Meddling again?”

“No, helping,” Frankie corrected her. “Want to join us?”

“And witness the train wreck? No, thanks.”

“There will be no train wreck,” Frankie said irritably.

“So you say. Anyway, I can’t. My bunco girls are having their Christmas party.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot. Elinor, join us,” Frankie said to Elinor. “It will be fun.”

Elinor’s cheeks turned pink. “That’s really nice of you, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“Who said you’d be intruding? It’s a party. Anyway, I already told Mitch I was inviting you.”

Elinor smiled. “What can I bring?”

“Nothing but your smile,” said Frankie.

“I could bring something to drink,” Elinor ventured.

“Whatever makes you happy.”

“Did you remember to get my light bulbs?” Adele asked.

“Snotballs! I forgot.”

Adele shook her head. “I know. You had more important things on your mind than your poor old mother’s needs. Never mind. I’ll pick them up later.”

“Daughter guilting does not become you,” Frankie said, and turned back around.

Brock was nowhere in sight when she reentered the hardware store. Mitch was in the lighting section, helping an older man select the proper switch box.

“I forgot to get Mom’s light bulbs,” she said, and grabbed a box.

“Distracted by my manager?” It sounded like teasing, but it was accompanied by a rather stingy smile.

She frowned at Mitch. “Oh, you are funny.”

As if she was interested in someone who was probably ten years younger than her. As if she was interested in anyone.

Come Friday evening, Frankie’s house smelled like balsam fir and good food and looked ready for a magazine shoot. Her tree was up, all done in pink and silver this year. Greens ran along her mantel, with mercury glass candle holders in between, the lit candles inside them glowing softly. Pillar candles decorated her coffee table and the ceramic nativity set Adele had made for her years ago was proudly displayed on the dining room buffet. Her table was set with her favorite Christmas plates, Holiday Gatherings by Lenox. Red cloth napkins matched the centerpiece: red ribbon and, nestled in the greens, three candles in small hurricane lamps.

She’d made her pasties the night before and had them heating in the oven. The peppermint pie, also made ahead of time, was ready and waiting in the refrigerator, and the makings for the drinks were set out on the counter. Stef had promised to put together a spinach salad with pomegranate and feta cheese. It would be a stellar meal.

Stef showed up with her salad, looking adorable in jeans and a soft red sweater and faux fur–trimmed green suede boots on her feet in honor of the light snow starting to dust the sidewalk outside. Her hair hung in a perfect cascade almost to her shoulders, and her makeup was perfect. Like Frankie, she wore red lipstick because, well, why not? It was a good choice. Who didn’t love red lipstick? Brock would go crazy for her.

Five minutes after Stef, the doorbell rang again. Mitch had arrived. He wore boots, jeans and his favorite old peacoat that had been his grandfather’s. He looked rugged and handsome.

---