Page 29 of A Christmas Spark
“You’re really going through with giving her away?” Vanessa asked, surprised. “I thought you were just threatening that to get George to help more.”
“Well, he can’t exactly keep her all dayandall night—she’d just be his kitten then,” Mabel grumped. “And I haven’t gotten a lick of sleep in what feels like all week. It’s just not working out.” She glanced down at the menu, clearly unwilling to keep talking about it. “Have you decided what you want yet, Vanessa? The turkey cranberry sandwich with herbed cream cheese sounds like just the thing.”
“I was thinking the spiced pear salad,” Vanessa said, glancing at the menu again. She looked up, briefly pausing on Imogen for a moment. “You seem a little preoccupied today. Is everything okay? I know the chocolate shop gets crazy this time of year for you too.”
Imogen bit her lip, glancing down at her menu to avoid having to look directly at either of the two women for a moment. There was something about their genuine concern that made her want to unburden herself. After all, Vanessa was her best friend, and she’d known Mabel for so long that the woman was practically her grandmother too. She couldn’t think of anyone else that she would explain it all to, if she was going to.
“The shop is fine,” she began, tracing the rim of her water glass with her fingertip. “It’s actually… it’s Katie.”
Mabel’s brow furrowed with immediate concern. “Is she alright?”
“She’s perfectly fine,” Imogen quickly assured them. “It’s just… I found a letter she wrote to Santa.” She paused, feeling a lump form in her throat. “She asked him to bring me a husband for Christmas.”
Vanessa and Mabel exchanged a look that Imogen couldn’t quite decipher.
“What?” she asked, glancing between them. “What are you thinking?”
Mabel reached across, patting Imogen’s hand gently. “Well, I think it’s perfectly natural for a little girl her age to worry that her mother might be lonely. Is there any truth to that, do you think? That you might be lonely?”
The question was asked without any of Mabel’s usual mischief. It was gentle and concerned, and Imogen felt her eyes mist over a little. She hadn’t realized how much she really needed to talk to someone about it until now. She was used to not really talking about her personal life, or sticking to just discussing Katie and the shop. Even when talking to Vanessa, she always tried to deflect anything that might bring up her own personal love life—or lack thereof.
But Mabel’s gentle inquiry and Vanessa’s sympathetic expression made it hard to not be honest with them, just then.
“I suppose… yes,” she admitted quietly. “There was a time when I thought my husband and I would be together forever, of course. And I do miss that certainty. That feeling of having a partner in life, someone who you can share all the little everyday moments with, who has your back and who is there in good times and bad. No matter how much I love Katie, there are just parts of my life that I can’t share with her, of course. But,” she added quickly, “I’m completely satisfied with just having my daughter. Katie is my whole world. And I would never want her to think that our family isn’t enough just because it’s the two ofus.” She looked between Vanessa and Mabel insistently. “I don’t mean that at all.”
“Just because you might miss having a significant other doesn’t mean you’re any less content with your daughter and your family,” Vanessa reassured her gently. “It’s not an either-or situation. You can be fulfilled by your relationship with Katie and still desire adult companionship. Anyone would. Even back in San Francisco, when I never dated because I was always so busy and never made time for it, there were times when I missed the idea of having another adult to share parts of my life with.”
Imogen smiled gratefully at Vanessa. “Deep down I know that, I really do. Logically. But I don’t want Katie to feel like she’s missing out on something either, by not having a father figure. I know that no matter how hard I try, I can’t give her all of both. I know she sees her friends’ dads, and probably misses having that. She’s never known what it’s like, so all she has is this idealized version. And she doesn’t know yet that relationships can be so much more damaging than they are worth, sometimes.”
“Children are perceptive,” Mabel said gently. “I’m sure she’s picked up on moments when you’ve really felt the absence of a partner—when you’re tired, or wish you had someone there to share something with. It doesn’t mean you’ve failed her. If anyone failed, it’s your husband, when he left,” she added sternly. “This isn’t on you. And you’re right, there’s nothing to be gained from making a relationship happen. That would only make things worse, and I’m glad you’re smart enough to see that.” She patted Imogen’s hand again. “This just means Katie loves you, and wants you to be happy.”
The conversation paused momentarily as the server came by with their drink orders, and took their orders for lunch—the turkey sandwich for Mabel, the spiced pear salad for Vanessa, and an order of pumpkin soup and grilled cheese with bacon forImogen. When the server walked away, Vanessa leaned forward slightly.
“Is there anyone you might have your eye on though?” she asked mischievously. “Someone that you think you might want to go out with, if they were to ask?”
Imogen shook her head firmly. “No, absolutely not.” The denial came just a little too quickly, and she found herself thinking of Lincoln Blackwell’s kind, teasing smile when he’d bought them pizza at the rink and sat there having lunch with her and Katie. But that was ridiculous, she told herself. Everything between them had been over long ago, and they were just friends now, supporting each other’s businesses.
Mabel raised an eyebrow. “You know, back in high school, you and Lincoln Blackwell seemed like a mighty good fit. We all thought that if any of the kids who coupled back up then were going to last, it’d be you two. And he’s grown up into a very handsome—and single—man,” Mabel added mischievously. “The way he used to look at you… well, some things don’t change as much as we think they do.”
Imogen felt her cheeks heat, and she smiled quickly, shaking her head. “Lincoln and I were good together back then,” she admitted. “But like you said, we were kids. We were totally different people. And it was a long time ago. I have a daughter now, and a business… he has his ice rink. We’ve built separate lives for ourselves.”
“Well, when you get to be your age, anyone you meet will have a separate life from yours,” Mabel observed. “A relationship is about seeing if they fit together.”
“Well, we don’t fit any longer,” Imogen said firmly. “There really isn’t anyone I can see myself with. Which is why I was even more concerned about Katie’s letter, because it just isn’t possible, as far as I see. Unless someone new moves to town that just ticks all the boxes, and how likely is that?”
“Mm-hm,” Mabel hummed, not sounding convinced in the slightest. Even Vanessa had a small smile still on her face, clearly also unconvinced. But as their food arrived, both women let the subject drop, for which Imogen was grateful.
Still, as she picked up her spoon and breathed in the scent of pumpkin and cheese and warm bread and bacon, she couldn’t help wondering if they were right in some respects.
Itwouldbe nice, she conceded, to have someone. Not just for sharing household and parenting duties with, but to snuggle up with at night, to share her favorite movies with, to shop for and with, to debate silly things like white or colored Christmas lights, to decorate a tree with and cook beside in the kitchen. She missed adult companionship, like Vanessa had said. And maybe she should be more conscious of leaving her heart open, just in case someone was to be interested in her.
Although, she thought as she bit into her sandwich, right now no one was.
So there was nothing for her to worry about.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
George decided to use the lull in business before the last hour of evening pickups on Thursday to hang the Christmas wreaths up in his office. They were made on-site, and were great add-ons for anyone purchasing a tree.
