Page 57 of The Merry Matchmaker

“Ike,” Viola supplied.

“I know I’m never going to have what I had with Ike.”

“You’re not. Every relationship is different.”

“I understand, but I’m sure this one isn’t going to work. I need to stop the sleigh ride. There’s someone else he’s supposed to be on it with,” said Frankie.

“I guess you’ve got to listen to your heart,” Viola said.

“I do,” Frankie agreed. Her hormones wouldn’t be happy about her decision, but they’d have to deal with it.

Brock texted her the next morning.Want to do lunch?

Sorry, things are crazy right now.

It was no lie. The closer Christmas came, the busier the shop got. There was no time for leisurely lunches with sexy younger men. She was already going to leave everyone at Holiday Happiness to hustle without her since meeting with the Santa Walk committee would take up the morning.

You gonna ghost me?he texted, adding a laughing emoji.

It was hard to ghost someone who worked right next door.

No, she texted, and doubled his laughing emoji. They would have to have a serious talk. As soon as she figured out what it would look like. Meanwhile, it was time to hop on over to the office of the Carol Chamber of Commerce and meet with the Santa Walk movers and shakers.

She entered the meeting room to find the other committee members already there: Hazel Willis, who owned Wonderland Toys; Autumn Silvers, who, along with her husband, owned The Salad Bowl; James Warshaw, who owned Chez James Salon and knew the secrets of almost all the women in town; Theresia Nordlie, who owned Best Bakes Bakery and was the queen of the chocolate croissant; and Barbara Fielding, of course, who had, as chairman of the committee, claimed the seat at the head of the table.

“We were about to give up on you,” Barbara greeted Frankie, who was all of five minutes late.

“When would I ever miss a Santa Walk committee meeting?” Frankie said sweetly. “Especially since the Santa Walk is my baby.”

Barbara frowned, deepening the marionette lines on both sides of her mouth. Thin and gaunt as she was, someone should have told her not to dress in black. It made her look like the Grim Reaper’s wife on a tour of New York City. Frankie always thought someone who specialized in knitting should look soft and pillowy, like everyone’s favorite grandma. Like Adele. There was nothing soft and pillowy about Barbara, either in her looks or her personality.

“Your baby belongs to us all. It takes a village,” Barbara said lightly, and almost smiled. “Well, now that we’re all here, let’s get started. How are we coming with our social media, James?”

James looked like he should have owned the yarn store. He was soft and pillowy. He favored jeans and T-shirts when he was working, but in honor of the committee meeting, he’d paired the jeans with a white shirt and a red vest.

“We’re good. I just put up a slideshow on Insta of shots from last year’s walk.”

The one Frankie had been in charge of. If she hadn’t gone off on that Christmas cruise right after last year’s walk and missed the post-event meeting, she’d still be in charge. Barbara had done a ton of campaigning in her absence, and when the committee met next, she’d already gotten herself nominated as chairman for the following year.

Frankie had had too much class to nominate herself, but she hadn’t been above asking Autumn later why the committee had put Barbara in charge. And why Autumn had nominated her. It had felt like a betrayal.

“Barbara told me you were worn out from running the event, and you wanted a break,” Autumn had explained.

The only thing Frankie had wanted a break from was Barbara. She still did, but oh well, everyone had someone in their life who was their designated irritant, and Barbara was Frankie’s.

“She’s jealous of you,” Adele liked to say. “You have the cutest shop in town, and everyone likes you.”

“Well, someone must like her,” Frankie would reply. “She’s still in business.”

“They like yarn.”

There was that.

“I assume the paper is going to start giving us a boost, aren’t they, Frankie?” Barbara asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

Somehow it was assumed that because Frankie knew the editor and her sister worked for the paper, Frankie had an in. The paper gave the event lots of space, not because of Frankie or even Stef, but because the Santa Walk was a big deal in Carol.

“Of course,” Frankie said.

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