Page 1 of My Secret Santa Mason

1

CAMI

The diner was bustling with the usual morning rush. The sound of bacon sizzling on the griddle weaving together with the chatter and conversation all around, and the smell of coffee hung in the air. I sat back in the red vinyl booth and took a deep breath, drinking it all in. I shared a corner booth with Rae and Betty. We’d ordered waffles and coffee for our “business meeting,” but we hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

That didn’t bother me. I had all day to spend with the people who were becoming like family to me.

Betty was the owner of Millie’s Diner, along with her husband, Sam, but the two of them spent more time talking to their customers than serving them.

That’s what we employ servers for,so we can do what’s necessary to keep this place going, Betty always said with a smile, nonchalantly patting her curly gray hair, and she was right. It was that human connection that made the place what it was. Without that, it didn’t matter how many servers she had and what food she put out. People came here to be together.

Everything in Silver Ridge was that way—it was the human connection, where everyone was close to everyone, and that made it such a wonderful place to be.

I’d never imagined I would live in a small town. I’d always worked as an event manager and it made sense that in the big cities was where I would make a name for myself.

But it was never too late to learn, to find new ways of life and to experience new things. I’d learned that the hard way. My life had powered on in one direction and suddenly, someone—my best friend and myex-fiancé, to be exact—had pulled the rug out from underneath me and I’d had to start all over again.

Talk about a break in momentum. It had forced me to change my outlook on life, and boy, oh boy, had I been in for a surprise.

It turned out life could be pretty damn amazing if I didn’t look back to the past too much. It was hard not thinking about the fact that I would have been married now, setting up a home with the love of my life. But whatever. I wasn’t going to think about that.

Stop thinking about the past. Look forward. Keep moving.

That had become my mantra.

Betty cooed at Hunter, who looked around with mischief in his eyes, trying to find something—anything—to do. I smiled as I watched him, listening to Rae and Betty making small talk about what it meant to be a parent.

That was something that had gone down the drain, along with my dreams of being happily married. The white picket fence, the beautiful brownstone colonial home, the Golden Retriever playing in the yard…

Stop thinking about the past, I scolded myself again.

It wasn’t like I wasn’t happy now, anyway. Iwashappy. I just had to keep reminding myself of that.

Outside, the chill of late November was biting, forcing into collars and reminding the townspeople that winter was on theirheels. Here and there townspeople walked past, heads ducked against the wind, coats wrapped tightly around themselves.

Winter was coming, and I was looking forward to a white Christmas.

Inside the diner, it was all warmth and holiday cheer. Despite still having Thanksgiving this week, the 1950s-style diner was kitted out in Christmas decorations, complete with Christmas lights wrapped around the neon sign outside that flickered at night. The red and green complimented the red booths and it stood out beautifully against the black-and-white tiled floor.

The Secret Santa event would be the next day, and I wanted the place to be ready. I’d helped put up the decorations, and it really added something extra.

I just loved Christmas—the tree, the presents, the decorations, the food… being together.

Rae balanced Hunter on her knee, his tiny hands clapping excitedly as he babbled nonsense. He was almost a year and a half now, and he was busier than ever.

“He looks like a handful,” Betty said with a grin and reached for his hand, jiggling it. “Adorable. But a handful.”

“I thought he was wild when he started to crawl, but now that he can walk I can’t keep up—if I turn my back for a second, he gets into something he shouldn’t.”

She handed him a dried apricot, and it went straight to his mouth. I smiled at him, pulling a face, and he giggled around the apricot.

“Bet you a waffle he’s going to drop that apricot any second now,” Betty said, pointing her fork at Hunter.

“He’ll hold onto it for a little while,” Rae said. “And you can’t take it away from him until he’s decided he’s done.”

“He’s got a very strong grip,” Betty agreed. “But we know he gets that from Tanner.”

Rae smiled, her cheeks pinkening when she thought about her husband, and it was sweet.

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