Page 4 of A Very Titan Christmas
Kimberly’s eyebrows arched. The December edition was the pinnacle of their magazine’s annual run.
Before Kimberly could say no, Rachel grabbed onto the idea of New England. “I grew up in the Northeast. I’m familiar with it and can take all month to do the research.”
Kimberly leaned back in her chair and swiveled from side to side. The floor-to-ceiling window behind her showed the late-afternoon light fading into a dark sky, spotlighting the jagged cityscape of glass and brick, where history and the present day wrapped into one spectacular view. Kimberly’s smile dipped down in thought. “I usually wait for the current holiday to pass before planning the assignment for the next one.”
“I know it’s not our standard operating procedure, but I’m ready to write the cover article. I can book my travel and be on my way by the end of the week.” She’d visit Christmas carnivals and small-town marketplaces. Since New England would be the focus of next year’s issues, Rachel had already planned out exactly where to go. “I could have an outline for you by the end of the week.”
“Rachel, I can’t—”
The phone clanged against Rachel’s metal water bottle again, and they both looked at her purse. She wasn’t sure if this was comedic relief or the final nail in the coffin. “I thought I’d silenced it. My mom wants me to go home for the holidays.”
Kimberly’s eyebrows arched. “You don’t want to go home?”
“I want to hit New England or wherever you’re envisioning for December’s cover story.”
“I admire your willingness to be a team player.” She bit her lip as if pondering the possibilities.
Seconds crawled by as Kimberly pensively rocked in her chair.
“Doesn’t your family have a set of cabins?” Kimberly asked. “Or something like that in that adorable Vermont town. What’s it called?”
“Silverberry Ridge.” Rachel had never wanted to use her family or their properties to climb the ladder at work. An unsteady nervousness needled under her skin.
“Yes! Silverberry Ridge.” Kimberly pressed her hands together. “What a name for a place. So they have rental cabins?”
“It’s a family-run resort. ‘Resort’ sounds huge, but it’s small. Cabins. A conference center. Little shops. Shuttles to nearby ski slopes.”
“As resorts go, small can’t bethatsmall.” Kimberly picked up her phone and tapped on the screen as Rachel’s phone clattered against her water bottle again. She shoved her hand in the bag until she found it. This time she made doubly sure to switch on silent mode and laid it on the desk.
Kimberly scrolled and scrolled, and interest blossomed on her face. She finally looked up with one eyebrow arched. Her head tilted, and a sneaky half smile appeared on her face as though Rachel had been keeping a secret. “This is very cute. I’d never peeked at it before. Absolutely charming.”
“It is,” she admitted and could envision what her editor saw. Stone and timber architecture of a welcoming lobby, complete with an oversized wood-burning fireplace. Holiday decorations that deserved to be featured in a travel magazine. Just like the little town of Silverberry Ridge. “I grew up there, and even seeing it daily, its magic has never been lost on me.”
Kimberly returned to typing and scrolling. She hummed, and a curious cheeriness danced in her eyes. “There’s a little town hall with a tree decorated by everyone in town.”
Rachel chewed on her lip. Silverberry Ridge had a town hall pulled straight out of a fairy tale. “Yes.”
“And a toy store that hosts an annual holiday teddy bear tea?”
“Tinsel and Toys. The owner plays Mrs. Claus and reads the kids a story—usuallyThe Night Before Christmas—after they finish with the tea party.”
Kimberly side-eyed Rachel as though she’d been hiding the fountain of youth. “There’s a town cookie-decorating contest?”
“My mom hosts that,” Rachel admitted. “It’s a fundraiser to benefit a local MS and demyelinating disease clinic.”
“Demyelinating… I’m sorry. I’m not familiar with that.”
“You’ve heard of multiple sclerosis?”
Kimberly nodded. “Yes.”
“MS is the most common demyelinating disease. Think of a layer that wraps around certain nerves in the central nervous system. That’s the myelin sheath. In really broad strokes, with MS, the immune system attacks the myelin sheath. With other demyelinating diseases, the cause can be autoimmune, viral, or an inherited gene.” Rachel was never sure how much people wanted to know.
“Oh.” Kimberly glanced at her phone again and held the screen for Rachel to see. “Is this your mom in the wheelchair?”
That was her mom, center stage, handing an oversized check to the clinic’s representative. She wasn’t sure what Kimberly would say. She hated the way some asked personal questions about her mom that were less about learning about the condition and more about delving into the medical details of someone they’d never met. Eloise had once likened it to when a womanwas pregnant and strangers sometimes reached for belly bumps or offered unsolicited advice. “Yup.”
“God, she’s got great hair.” Kimberly eyed Rachel. “You should ask her how she gets that volume. I think you have the same hair type.”
