Page 8 of Snowed In on Valentine's Day

Wait a minute. It’sthatlate?

My brows furrowed as reality sank in. Apparently, I hadn’t looked at the clock at all this afternoon. I’d hoped to visit the new neighbor earlier because, well, it’s a little weird to bring over a welcome basket after dark, isn’t it?

Now I didn’t have a choice. These treats were amazing when fresh. They’d still be good tomorrow, but … first impressions were important. If I finished up in an hour, I could take them over before it becametooweird.

With that in mind, my blissful baking interlude was over, replaced by watching timers and deliberating over how many sweet treats to bring over. The man might live alone, or he might not. With such a large house, maybe he had six kids. I’d need to bring a lot of cookies to feed them all. A few dozen at least.

After placing another pan of cookies in the oven, I started selecting from the finished cookies and putting them in the parchment paper-lined wicker basket I’d found in the attic, making sure to leave space for the caramel brownies still cooling.

When the oven timer sounded, I turned it off and scanned the room for the oven mitt.

The soaring notes of Whitney Houston suddenly filled my ear, and I whirled around to find my phone. As the volume increased, I winced, wishing I’d turned it down earlier after my shower. Finally, I found it under a recipe and a box of foil on the counter.

“Papa, hi!”

“Aw, Hazy-chan, you answered!”

I grinned at my father’s nickname for me.Hazyusually meant he was in a good mood, and-chanwas his Japanese addition. Of course, good moods have been common since he moved back to Japan. I frowned at the thought. It was selfish, but I always wondered why he couldn’t be happierhere, withme. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “Of course I answered. I always do, Papa.”

“No, no. You didn’t answer last time.”

I paused, trying to remember. “Oh, I was at the dentist last Monday.”

“So? You don’t bring your phone there?”

I chuckled. “Well, yes, but I can’t take calls. You have to put your phone on silent—Papa, you know this. You lived here for two decades; surely you remember what it’s like to go to the dentist here.”

“That was before cell phones,” he muttered. Then, in a more pleasant tone, he asked, “How’s my little girl? You finished writing that book you mentioned in text?”

I sputtered, “Uh, no—Papa, I just started a couple weeks ago. It takes time to write books. Especially nonfiction ones.”

“Why?” His tone was innocent, but I sighed. Did heevereven try to understand my life and interests? “Never mind that. What are your holiday plans?”

I blinked a few times. “My plans—what holiday?” I chuckled. “Dad, the holiday season ended about a month ago.”

“Thatholiday, yes,” he grumbled. I’d apparently touched a nerve, as his odd obsession with Christmas was unmatched. “Valentine’s Day, Hazy-chan.”

I closed my eyes, wishing I were having any other conversation. “Oh, I for—” I stopped myself. “I have just been busy writing, you know?”

“Well?”

“Well what, Papa?”

“What are you doing to celebrate?”

“I—um, well …” I trailed off. The truth—that I had forgotten the holiday was coming soon and had no plans of celebrating this year—would break his holiday-obsessed heart. “I haven’t decided yet,” I lied.

I bit my lip.

I couldn’t lie.

“Actually, I might sit this one out,” I said, hearing a slight tremble in my voice.

“What?” My dad was usually soft-spoken, at least with me. “Hazel, what do you mean?”

He hadn’t misunderstood me. His English was fantastic, as he’d been a professional legal translator before retiring. I sighed. There was nothing to do but tell him the truth. All of it. “I’m taking a break this year, Papa. From the holiday and … well, from dating.”

I heard his gasp. “I don’t understand. Don’t you want to—”

---