Page 155 of The Holiday Fakers
Brody stands and smiles at her, even though his eyes are glassy. “I love you too.”
“Good. Just checking.”
He chuckles, and I surreptitiously wipe my eyes.
“Make sure you look after Daddy,” Martha continues.
He salutes. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And hurry back, because I’m only allowed to stay at the dance until eight.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Martha’s little hand takes mine. “Don’t worry, Aunt Piper. You’ve made your wish now, so everything’s going to be all right.”
I don’t know how, but for one night at least, I’m going to put my trust in the faith of a little girl, and her belief in the magic of Hideaway.
CHAPTER 28
PIPER
“Honey, can you run to Making Whoopie for me?” Mom asks.
It’s mid-afternoon, and we haven’t stopped since we arrived at the town hall community building this morning. Brody, my brothers, and Dad are still out clearing the fallen tree, and we have no idea when they’ll be back because there’s no cell service in that area.
I finish clipping a festive paper tablecloth to a trestle table, and stand. “Sure, what can I get?”
Mom pushes a fifty-dollar bill into my hand. “Whatever Audrey’s got left. We just need a pick-me-up to get through the next hour or so.”
I nod. It’s always down to the wire getting the main room ready, but without half my family and Brody pitching in, it’s taken even longer.
The tree is decorated, and thousands of feet of string lights hang across the ceiling. Evergreen garlands line the middle ofthe tables and are attached above the doors and along the bottom of the windows. However, the band is still performing a sound check, the food and drinks haven’t arrived, and there’s a mess everywhere.
Throwing on my coat and scarf, I make my way out of the building, hang a right, then turn left when I reach Main Street. It’s chilly, and the light is fading fast, but I’m glad to be outside, the crisp air clearing my foggy head. When Brody left, I threw myself into getting the main room ready, not wanting a moment of peace to reflect on the double bombshells dropped this morning.
But now, as I cross the road and join the line outside the bakery, reality settles on me like gently falling snow. I’ve been given a choice to make. Not by Brody, but by the universe, God, a higher power, destiny, or whatever label I want to use.
Colin’s call this morning offered me everything I thought I ever wanted: stability, security, and knowing that I had a clear career path. But is that really what my soul desires?
The other path before me is the one less travelled. A chance to turn my artistic passion into a new career, even though the risk is so much higher. I need the courage to try something new, believe in myself, and be proud of what I draw.
And, much as I hate to admit it, Mom and Mia are right. My heart isn’t in advertising staplers and office chairs.
I’ve loved my time in Brooklyn, but I’ve also been lonely. If I follow Brody to New Zealand, we’ll be together and happy, and I’ll have plenty of time to look for online design jobs while also working on my art.
My skin tingles as I make my decision, and the further my mind travels in this new direction, the more I know it’s the right one for me. I’m scared, but in an excited way, like the feeling you get on a roller coaster as it cranks its way up to the first drop.
And Brody? He’s going to be by my side as I create a new future for myself.
Making Whoopie is my favorite bakery in Hideaway Harbor, and on a Friday afternoon, everyone else in town seems to share the same opinion. I stamp my feet to keep warm as the line slowly shortens, then take out my phone to see if there’s anything from Brody.
Still nothing.
I go to my socials, my mind boggling at the number of new followers, likes, and comments. It’s too much to take in, let alone reply to, so I check my email to see if any more commissions have come through.
My gaze snags on a name I don’t recognize and a subject header that doesn’t immediately make sense.
I open it and read the contents.
