Page 72 of The Holiday Swap

When Charlie arrived at the bakery, having borrowed her parents’ car to get there as the Prius wasn’t great in heavy snow, she was surprised that Cass wasn’t around. She had hoped they could talk. She was still reeling from the night before, but if anyone had Charlie’s best interests in mind, it was her twin sister. Even though they lived hours apart, Cass was—had always been—Charlie’s“person.” She still had plenty of questions, and she had her own explaining to do, but the last thing she wanted was for all of this to drive a permanent wedge between them.

“Is Cass upstairs?” It was weird to finally be able to be herself with Walter. She was so used to playing her sister that she had to remind herself that she could be Charlie now.

Walter looked up. “Oh. Hi, Charlie. Cass told me you were coming in, but I wasn’t sure when. I’m glad to see you.”

“I’m here now and happy to help out,” she said, smiling at the assistant as she tied the apron strings around her waist. “Any idea where my sister got off to?”

“She said she had to deal with a few things—including the issue with the sourdough starter.” Charlie felt awful as she thought about the icing sugar mix-up. “But she’ll be back later.” Walter handed her a spool of shimmering silver ribbon and a pair of scissors. Swaths of ribbon had to be cut to tie up the bakery’s gingerbread cookie decorating kits.

Walter slid the trays of gingerbread cookies out of the oven, then peered out the bakery’s front window at the falling snow. “It’s really coming down now. Are your mom and dad going to make it back in time?”

Charlie glanced up from the ribbons she was cutting, frowning. “Their flight keeps getting delayed, but last I heard they were still scheduled to depart tonight. Fingers crossed.”

Walter started transferring the hot cookies to the cooling tower. Charlie, now used to the bakery’s space and routine with Walter, moved about with ease, getting the ribbon and bags ready. Then she reached for the sprinkles and silver balls—the bottles tucked toward the back of the cupboard, mostly hidden in shadows.

“Huh. I was just about to tell you where those were, but lookslike you figured it out,” Walter said. “Which is sort of weird... How did you know where Cass kept them?”

Charlie laughed to cover her blunder. “Ah, don’t overthink it, Walter. It’s a twin thing. This is exactly where I would have put sprinkle bottles, too.”

Over the next couple of hours they worked side by side, baking and cooling more gingerbread, chatting about everything from baking hacks to how much snow was expected by Christmas.

“Cass told me you were interested in culinary school. And television.” Walter gave a shy nod.

“You know, I’m happy to help you however I can,” Charlie said, not sure that offer carried any weight now. But if Walter noticed the hesitation in her voice, he made no comment.

She looked at the boxes full of decorating kits, finally complete and ready to be delivered. “Those are for the firehouse, right?” Every Christmas Eve the firefighters handed the decorating kits out to the kids during Starlight Peak’s annual holiday event.

“Yeah. I was going to drop them over there on my way home,” Walter said.

“Why don’t I do it?” Charlie said. “I can pop out and be back in ten minutes, no problem.”

“You sure?” Walter was leaving early for his family’s tree-trimming party. He told Charlie he could skip it if she needed him to stick around, but she insisted he go. “Trust me, you’ll miss those family traditions once you leave home,” she had told him. She thought back to her own family’s traditions: her dad’s famous gingerbread cake, served warm with candied oranges and whipped cream; opening one present on Christmas Eve—always a book and pajamas; the photo of the four of them in their ugly sweaters taken each Christmas morning in front of the tree.

When Walter opened the front door to leave it nearly flew on its hinges, the snow swirling outside. “Looks like we’re guaranteed a white Christmas,” he said, pulling his hat down more to cover his ears. “Tell Cass I’ll be back tomorrow to finish up the Starlight Bread?”

Charlie promised she would, wishing Cass would hurry up and get back to the bakery so they could talk. She’d told her twin she wanted to be alone, but now that she was, she wanted nothing more than to make things right with her sister.

•••

Charlie sat in the car outside the firehouse, surrounded by boxes of gingerbread, trying to work up the nerve to ring the doorbell. The drive from the bakery to the firehouse had been a short, though white-knuckled, one. It was a blizzard now, and the heavy snow showed no signs of letting up anytime soon. She’d left a note for Cass, telling her she’d return shortly so they could talk, and a “Be Back Soon” sign on the bakery’s front door for any customers.

“You can do this,” she murmured, turning off the car. After a deep breath she texted Jake and told him she was outside, and could he talk now? Then, with a box in each arm, she walked up the front steps right as Jake opened the door.

He reached out to take a box from Charlie’s arms. “Here, let me help you.”

“Thanks, Jake.” Charlie stepped into the warmth of the building’s front entrance, the smell of roasting chicken and warmed sage filling her nose. Her breath hitched, now that she stood so close to him.

“Are there more?” Jake asked, not noticing how close she was to falling apart. He was looking past her at the car.

Charlie glanced behind her. “Yeah, but I’ll grab them in a minute.” She shivered, the cold air swirling through the still open door, and Jake reached around her to shut it. Then he gave her a smile, but it didn’t reach his gorgeous eyes.

At the look on his face, everything she had wanted to say—had rehearsed on the short car ride over—got stuck in her throat. Then, weirdly, a sharp pain in her head made her gasp. Charlie put a hand to her temple, trying to rub away the pain, which was pulsing in deep waves across one side of her head.

“Are you alright?” Jake asked.

“Not really.” The strange pain dissipated as quick as it had come, but she still wasn’t okay. Charlie felt almost physically ill with guilt. She couldn’t put off what she had come to say any longer.

“Do you need to sit down? A glass of water?” Jake put a hand on her shoulder, clearly worried Charlie was about to topple over. She wished she could just throw herself into his arms.

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