Page 86 of The Wish List
“The baby and all that sisterly bonding was a nice touch,” Jennie told her. “Your sister is funny with the mama bear routine.” She waved a hand up and down in front of Freya. “I guess the new look fits for this town, but you can leave that dress behind when you return to California.”
“Right,” Freya agreed automatically. She loved the gardenia dress.
“We’re going to start editing your footage back at the hotel,” the producer said, then pointed at Freya. “Nice tip on the Wildflower Inn. It’s exactly the kind of place we wanted to stay during filming.”
“You bet.” Freya cleared her throat, not wanting to admit she’d never actually visited the inn. “You can see why I love coming home.”
The cameraman moved closer. “Any chance I could get a bear claw for the road?” he asked. “They smell incredible.”
“Of course.” Mary Ellen went behind the counter and did the honors herself, packing up a bag of mouthwatering pastries for the two-person crew.
Freya brought the drinks and the cinnamon roll Trinity had ordered to the table. “Will you text Beth to pick up you and Thomas?” she asked Trinity. They’d installed a car seat in both Beth and May’s vehicles as well as Trinity’s. “I can tell you need a rest. I’m going to stay in town and apparently go over a few things before doing MC duties at the Christmas on the Coast art award show tonight.”
Trinity yawned then took a bite of the cinnamon roll. “Sounds good,” she said like it was no big deal for Freya to be headlining a town activity. “I didn’t realize you were involved.”
“Me neither,” Freya admitted. She stiffened as Mary Ellen put a hand on her shoulder.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” the older woman asked. “Everyone will get such a kick out of seeing our little town on TV. It’s great of you to volunteer to lend a hand in this way.”
“Volun-told is more like it.”
Mary Ellen’s smile remained steady and sincere. “We appreciate you, Freya.”
How was it that the woman knew exactly what to say to warm Freya’s cynical Hollywood heart? She’d gotten so used to the notion of doing nice things quid pro quo that the idea of being valued for who she was meant more than it should.
“It’s not a big deal. I’m benefiting as much as the town. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gone along with it.”
“Sure,” Mary Ellen agreed far too readily.
“You aren’t fooling anyone, Frey,” Trinity said as she stood. “You’re a big softie. You always have been. The hardest part about tonight is that you can’t announce that every kid is a winner.”
“Not everyone wins in life,” Freya muttered. “It’s better to learn that sooner than later.”
Trinity frowned. “I want Thomas to win,” she said quietly. “It’s just too hard to imagine him disappointed.”
“Then we’ll make sure he’s one of the lucky ones,” Freya promised her baby sister. And to her amazement, Trinity seemed to believe her.
“Love you, Frey.” She gave Freya a quick hug then pushed the stroller toward the exit.
“I bet you would have pitched in even without the cameras,” Mary Ellen said, lifting a hand when Freya would have protested. “Either way, you’re doing a good thing for the town.”
“And myself,” Freya felt it necessary to add.
“I’ll call Avery while you walk down.” Mary Ellen didn’t bother responding to Freya’s words. “She’ll be thrilled to have your help.”
“Slim pickings in Magnolia.” Freya sniffed. “If you consider me a big draw.”
“We consider you one of us,” Mary Ellen said, her smile gentle. “Have fun tonight, Freya.” The older woman took a phone out of the front pocket of her apron as she turned away.
One of us.The thought reverberated through Freya as she left the bakery. She’d never felt like she belonged anywhere, not in Hollywood or her family. Her mother had made it abundantly clear in a myriad of ways that Freya didn’t act the way May wanted or expected. While flouting her mother’s expectations was the only way Freya had found to assert her independence, the constant effort cost her. And she wasn’t sure she was willing to continue to pay.
Did she have to?
A shiver passed through her as she walked along the sidewalk toward The Reed Gallery, which had been the artistic home of the painter Niall Reed, Magnolia’s most famous resident for several decades.
Now his daughter, Carrie, a well-respected artist whose reputation was quickly eclipsing that of her male-chauvinist father, had taken over running the gallery. It not only featured her paintings but offerings from a wide range of artists from around the region.
Obviously, Carrie also gave back to the community since the gallery had sponsored the prize for the holiday art contest. The winner would have their creation featured as the primary graphic for next year’s holiday celebration and be given a two-hundred-dollar cash prize.
