Page 15 of Caffeinated in Amesbury
"Pair up, folks!" Betty announced. "It's time to knead some holiday spirit into our dough."
"Looks like it's you and me," I said, donning an apron with a reindeer sporting a jaunty bow tie.
"Prepare yourself," Blair warned, "I bake like I dance – with enthusiasm, not skill."
"Perfect," I replied, rolling up my sleeves. "I can't dance either."
Together, we took a lump of dough, its spicy fragrance promising warmth and sweetness. I pressed my palms into it, surprised by the therapeutic effect of the repetitive motion. As I rolled it flat, my mind wandered to the manuscripts I'd left piled on my desk, the frantic pace of deadlines. Here, though, there was only the steady rhythm of creation, the simple joy of seeing something take shape under my hands.
"Oops!" Blair exclaimed as her rolling pin veered off course, sending a sprinkle of flour onto my face.
"Hey!" I laughed, retaliating with a light dusting of my own.
"Truce!" Blair gasped amidst chuckles, raising her hands. "We've got cookies to make!"
I selected a cutter shaped like a star and pressed down, carving out a perfect shape. I lifted it, inspecting my work—a five-pointed marvel in a sea of potential.
"Who knew?" Blair mused, watching me. "You're a natural."
"Maybe there's a life lesson here," I pondered aloud, placing my star on the baking sheet. "Sometimes you have to strip away the excess to find what really matters."
"Deep thoughts over dough," Blair teased. "Next, you'll be starting a fortune cookie business."
"Perhaps," I smirked, feeling the corners of my world expand. "But for now, this is enough."
As the gingerbread baked, the edges browning to perfection, I realized that each laugh, every shared glance with Blair, was stitching me back into the tapestry of Amesbury. And for the first time in a long while, the future gleamed not with the sharp glint of ambition, but with the soft glow of possibility.
Tonight was exactly what I needed. Something simple and fun to take my mind off the looming questions swirling around in my head. New York City had always been my dream, but sometimes those change.
“Don’t be mad at me, but Thomas is waiting outside for you.” Blair said, nudging me with her shoulder. “Thought maybe he could walk you back to the Inn. I’m meeting up with Cole.”
“Are you trying to set me up with him? He isn’t into me.”
“Girl, you are so blind.”
My breath misted the air as I stepped into the crisp evening, the snow beneath me boots crunching like a symphony of icicles. I wrapped my coat tighter, the woolen fibers like a hug against the encroaching chill.
"Ready for an adventure?" Thomas's voice, warm and rich, cut through the cold.
"Absolutely,"I replied, my eyes catching the gleam of the old-fashioned sleigh that awaited us. It was a relic from a bygone era, festooned with red ribbons and holly, the horses' breath pluming in the frosty air as if they too shared the excitement of the night.
Thomas extended his hand to help me up. "Watch your step—it's slipperier than a politician's promise."
"Thanks," I said, accepting his hand and feeling a jolt that wasn't from the cold. Settled into the plush velvet seats, I felt the sleigh lurch forward, pulled by the strong strides of the horses.
They moved in silence, save for the creak of leather harnesses and the jingle of bells.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Thomas mused, pulling a tartan blanket over their laps.
"Like a scene from a classic novel," I agreed, gaze lost on the horizon where the last embers of twilight kissed the earth.
As the sleigh curved, the distant strains of music grew clearer, like a call to return to civilization. We arrived at the Amesbury Historic Theater just as the opening notes of the holiday concert soared into the evening air.
"Perfect timing," I whispered as we dismounted the sleigh, heart still racing from the ride—or perhaps from the company.
"Shall we?" Thomas gestured toward the theater with a playful bow.
"Lead the way," I replied, stepping into the warmth of the theater's embrace, leaving the cold world outside.
