Page 20 of Snowflakes and Sparks

With Christmas rapidly approaching and me wanting to continue the bookstore’s increase in sales, I decided to take matters into my own hands. The fact that there had been a big revenue boost over the last couple of weeks wasn’t enough. It was Christmas after all, and there was no telling if the increased sales would continue after the Christmas rush.

I’d stayed up half the night to come up with a strategy that could help me save the store. I wasn’t planning on letting it fail. Not on my watch.

First stop was the Old Pine Cove Inn. I stepped into my rental car, relief washing over me when I saw that I had phone reception and wouldn’t get lost again. Not that the inn was that far away, but still. One instance of getting lost was more than enough for me.

I turned on the radio and cranked up the volume. Singing Christmas songs at the top of my lungs felt extra special while driving through a snow-covered landscape. Celebrating Christmas in L.A. was nice, but nothing compared to the real thing.

It was clear that the people of Old Pine Cove were professionals when it came to Christmas decorations. An enormous Christmas tree had been erected in the town square. Two fake candy canes stood in front of the tree, like swords guarding a castle entrance, and big presents with colorful packaging and big bows were strewn all around. The snow covering the pine tree glittered in the early-morning sun. All that was missing was a real-life Santa and some elves.

The road twisted and turned as I left the town center. Three Christmas songs later, I parked the car at the old inn. The place hadn’t changed one bit. It looked as charming and inviting as I remembered it, even though the building could definitely use a fresh layer of paint.

To be honest, I had never been inside, but we used to pass it every day when I was here with Rachel and her family ten years ago.

Right next to the front door an inflatable Santa danced in the wind. Strings of red, green and yellow lightbulbs were wound around the porch railings and a big wreath adorned the entrance. A thin layer of snow covered the porch banister, but apart from that, the entire stairs and porch were void of snow.

I pushed the door open, the scent of cinnamon wafting toward me. I took a big breath and smiled. This place smelled just like my grandmother’s during the holiday season. Her baking skills were top-notch and every year she baked cookies and pies for the local women’s shelter. Even now at ninety-one she wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon, which I could only applaud. We all needed a goal that got us out of bed in the morning and got us moving.

“Hello,” the girl at the reception desk said with a twinkle in her eye. It was the same girl who I’d met at the bookstore on the day of Diane’s accident. The one gushing about Alex’s moves.

“You’re Suzie, right?” she asked.

I nodded. “The one and only. I don’t think I caught your name though?”

“I’m Addison, but you can call me Addy. What can I do for you today, Suzie?”

“I came here to talk to the manager. I’ve got some ideas that could help the inn as well as the bookstore,” I said, suddenly aware of the fact that it was ridiculous to show up without calling ahead or making an appointment.

“That would be me,” she said with a big smile. “This inn actually belongs to my father, but he’s retired and spends most of his time in sunny Florida. I took over management of the inn last year. Why don’t you wait over there while I finish up on these booking requests and I’ll join you in ten?”

She led me to a stunning lounge area where a big sofa took up most of the space. The walls were lined with wooden bookcases and a crackling fire warmed the entire room. I sat down and picked up a newspaper from the coffee table.

The titleOld Pine Cove Weeklywas printed in a plain bold font on the cover and the article placement wasn’t pleasing to the eye. The whole thing looked like a school project. Still, I was intrigued by the titles.

What burger fits your personality best? Dave’s Diner now has a quiz to find out!

Why issuing speeding tickets at the ski slopes is a good idea.

Should the community center serve trendy lattes, yes or no?

And… Wait, what? There it was, on page five. A picture of me, half a page, with the titleChristmas Crasher Returns after a Decade of Silence. Were they even allowed to print this kind of article without my consent? Whoever wrote this was going to have to explain themselves to me. I read on in disbelief.

Crashing young Alex’s truck… losing a precious load of snow globes… turned up again to take over Got It Covered… can’t take any more disasters… scared Diane when she suddenly appeared like a ghost…

I scared Diane? Who wrote this piece of sensational nonsense? And who made Diane the queen of this town? This was getting ridiculous. One crashed truck with a load of snow globes wasn’t so bad that it was still newsworthy ten years after the fact, now was it?

Unless… Yes, there was no other explanation.Old Pine Cove Weeklywas a parody newspaper.

Addison put down a tray and handed me a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream on top.

“There you go,” she said.

I put the newspaper down and took the mug from here.

“Here, grab one of our homemade cinnamon cookies as well. You sure look like you could use one,” she said with a concerned look on her face.

“Thanks,” I said and absentmindedly shoved one in my mouth.

“I see you’ve been readingOld Pine Cove Weekly.” She pulled a face. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much if I were you. Nothing newsworthy ever happens here, so when you turned up they must’ve thought it would make for a sensational piece of reading.”

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