Page 32 of Snowflakes Over Starr's Fall
“I’m sure there are lots of ways,” Laurie replied, which Jenna decided not to take as an insult.
She started detailing some of the ways Miller’s Mercantile had improved—the sagging sofa and broken-down gas pump were both gone, the floorboards had been stripped and revarnished, the old metal shelves replaced by wooden ones custom-made by Zach, on a rush order. Jack had agreed they should keep some of the individual, old-fashioned touches—the antique cash register, the barrel of pickles, the popcorn machine.
“But make sure it works,” he’d told Jenna, with some exasperation. “There’s nothing that says ‘has-been’ more than sporting a major feature that doesn’t work.”
Which Jenna pretty much had to agree with. She’d called in Mike the Mechanic, and he’d managed to get the popcorn machine working in about five minutes. She was both amazed and ashamed to think she hadn’t called him in earlier. Sometimes it took another person—in this case, Jack—to show you your blind spots.
“Well, it all sounds amazing,” Laurie told her. “I can’t wait until the grand opening. When is it?”
“December, at the start of the Winter Wonderland Weekend, before Christmas.” Jenna was planning to decorate the whole store with festive evergreen and holly, have a nativity scene, and Mike the Mechanic as Santa Claus, if she could convince him. She thought she could. Jack had also suggested she stock some Christmassy food items—locally made cranberry sauce, Christmas cookies from The Rolling Pin. She’d riffed off that idea with her own “Christmas Dinner in a Basket”—everything needed for the festive meal, wrapped with a big crimson bow.
“I can’t believe we’re already talking about Christmas,” Laurie said. “It’s barely November.”
“It’ll be here before you know it.” Jenna was not actually a big fan of Christmas anymore. She’d loved it as a kid, when her parents had decorated the house and store and the whole town had gotten involved, but in the last five years, it had just been her and Zach. Their parents spent the holiday in Florida, and this year Zach was going to be with Maggie and Ben. They’d invited her along, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to third wheel quite so obviously, and so it would be her alone with Netflix and a tub of Ben and Jerry’s, which was fine. Who wanted to cook a roast turkey for one anyway? Nowthatwould be depressing. She wondered, very briefly, what Jack would be doing, and then pushed that unhelpful thought away. Nothing with her, obviously.
“And I’m excited for the Winter Wonderland Weekend,” Laurie continued. “Lizzy Harper has big plans for it this year. Not just the tree lighting and decorating, but a whole evening of stores opened at night, craft and artisan events, food stalls… I think it could be really fun, as well as bolster the community spirit here.”
“Definitely,” Jenna agreed. At the last Business Association meeting, Lizzy had been in full throttle with plans for the weekend. Even though she wasn’t a big fan of Christmas anymore, Jenna had felt excited… especially as her new-and-improved store was going to be part of it all. “Anyway, how are you?” she asked Laurie. “How are things at Max’s Place?”
“Things at the store are fine,” Laurie said firmly, but there was an emphasis to the word store that made Jenna pause.
“And with Joshua?” she asked after a moment.
“Wonderful,” Laurie replied, and judging from the sparkle in her eyes and the faint flush to her cheeks, Jenna had no reason not to believe her.
“So why do I feel like there’s something else going on?” she asked, trying for a laugh.
Laurie let out a sigh as she checked on the casserole once more, unnecessarily, before turning to Jenna. “I heard from my mom again.”
“You did?” Jenna knew that Laurie’s biological mom, Rose, had grown up in Starr’s Fall, gone to the same high school Jenna herself had, although she’d never known her. Laurie had been so excited to meet her last year and then had been devastated when Rose had told her in no uncertain terms never to contact her again. Then, surprisingly, Rose had been the one to get in touch months later and arrange a meeting—only to not show up. Jenna had thought Laurie had decided to cut all contact after that, but judging from her unhappy and troubled expression, she was now feeling torn. “What did she say?” Jenna asked.
“She apologized for not meeting before, and asked if we could meet again.”
Hmm. Jenna was not overly impressed by the sudden change of heart. “And what did you reply?” she asked.
Laurie sighed. “I haven’t replied yet. She only messaged me yesterday, and I haven’t even told Joshua about it.” Her mouth turned down at the corners, the sparkle gone from her gaze. “I know what he will say, though: that she’s had enough chances.”
“Well…” Jenna hesitated, wanting to speak gently. “I thought you had agreed not to get on that emotional rollercoaster again?”
“I know I did, but… she’s mymom.” Laurie’s voice wobbled and Jenna saw she had to blink back tears.
“Your biological mom—” Jenna began.
“Theonlymom I’ll ever have,” Laurie cut across her quietly. “I didn’t have anyone else growing up.”
“I know,” Jenna said softly. Laurie had told her how she’d grown up cycled through foster care; it was completely understandable that she’d want a connection to the woman who had given birth to her. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again,” she explained with a squeeze of her hand. Making the same mistake not just twice but three times? Laurie didn’t need to go there. And neither did she, with her love life, or lack thereof.
“She seemed really sorry that she’d backed out before,” Laurie explained as she knotted her fingers together. “She said she was scared because her husband doesn’t know about me, but she really did want to meet me.”
“And is she going to tell him now?” Jenna couldn’t keep from sounding a little skeptical. How many chances did you give a person to hurt you? She’d given Ryan too many… which was why she wasn’t keen to go down that road again. For her friend’s sake, she didn’t want Laurie to, either.
“I don’t know. She didn’t say. But I understand why she would have been nervous, Jenna. Don’t you?” Laurie thrust her chin out, looking a little mulish, so clearly wanting to believe the best of her mom. Laurie was an eternal, determined optimist, unlike Jenna. She’d rather be realistic, brace yourself for the smackdowns. If you did, they might hurt less.
“I suppose she would have,” Jenna replied carefully, “but it’s you I’m concerned about, Laurie, not your mom.” She paused. “It sounds kind of like you’ve already decided, though, and obviously it’s your decision to make.”
Laurie nodded slowly. “I think I have.” She frowned, biting her lip. “Do you… do you think less of me for it? I mean, I get that I probably seem a little pathetic and desperate, chasing after her like this?—”
“Laurie.” Jenna laid a hand on her arm. “There’s absolutely nothing pathetic or desperate about wanting to connect with your mom. Nothing at all.”
