Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
“I can’t believe this shit!”
I wince at the muffled curse, knowing his mother probably wouldn’t appreciate him using that kind of language in front of his little sister, regardless of the circumstances.
“Don’t move. I’m on my way.”
“Roger that.” Hanging up the phone, the young girl turns to me. “He’s on his way. Mind if I hang out with you until he gets here?”
“Not at all,” I reply, reassuring her with a smile. “I’d love the company.”
“Great.” Beaming up at me, she extends her hand. “The name is Poppy.”
Impressed by her manners, I take her small hand in mine. “Hi, Poppy. I’m Hollis.”
“Pleased to meet you, Hollis. I like your name.”
“Thank you. I like yours too.”
It’s unique and not one you hear often.
“Are you hungry?” I ask. “I have some Christmas cookies and hot chocolate in a thermos if you’re interested?”
Her face lights up at the offer. “Yes, please!”
Grabbing a nearby stool, I bring it up to the counter for her to sit on. She wrestles to remove her backpack, hindered by the thick jacket she has on. Frustration creeps into her expression as she jumps around, spinning from side to side in a desperate attempt to free herself, but it proves futile.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Stepping forward, I grab the straps of her school bag and push them down her puffy arms.
“Thanks,” she huffs out. “All this winter gear can be a real struggle some days.”
I chuckle, amused by that response. “I can imagine.”
Though, I’m glad she’s dressed appropriately considering the small trek she had to make.
Once she’s untangled from her jacket and backpack, I neatly place them both in the corner and help her up onto the stool. Afterward, I grab the thermos of hot cocoa I packed this morning from the shelf under the register, along with the box of sugar cookies I had delivered from the local bakery down the street.
I place the box down in front of Poppy and remove the lid, presenting her with an array of colorful shapes to choose from. “Take your pick.”
She rubs her hands together gleefully before carefully selecting the Christmas tree which happens to be the biggest and brightest one in the box.
While she starts in on that, I pour us both a cup of cocoa, splitting what’s left in my thermos.
“So, I guess you’re the new owner of this place, huh,” she comments around a mouthful of cookie.
“Not exactly. My cousin owns it. I’m just here to run the place until he is able to sell it.”
Her small face scrunches in confusion. “He plans to sell it?”
I nod.
“Didn’t he just buy it?”
“He did,” I confirm, smiling at her confusion. “That’s what his company does. They buy businesses at auctions, then turn around and sell them for more money.”
The explanation doesn’t seem to bring her much clarity. “Not to sound rude, but that seems kinda pointless.”
I laugh, loving her honesty. “None taken, and I agree, but he enjoys it and makes good money doing it.”
More than good. Like most of my family, Shane is well off, but he has worked hard for what he has. So even though I don’t see the appeal, I’m proud of all he has accomplished.
“Well, I sure hope whoever buys this place doesn’t change anything,” she says, sounding devastated by the thought. “It would break my heart and I know it would break Mrs. Kay’s too if she were still alive.”
A twinge of guilt strikes my chest. “Is that who owned it previously?” I ask gently.
She nods, her expression sad. “She had a heart attack in her sleep and died.”
“I’m sorry,” I offer softly.
“Thanks. Me too. She was always nice to me when I came in to look around,” she says. “It’s probably my favorite store in town. Heck, maybe even in this whole world.”
Her enthusiasm sparks my own. “I guess that means you like Christmas, huh?”
“Oh, yes,” she gushes. “It’s my favorite holiday of the year.”
“Mine too,” I confess with a smile. “It’s one of the reasons I came here. I also couldn’t wait to see all the snow. It’s something that doesn’t happen often where I live.”
Her eyes flare with surprise. “Really?”
I nod.
“Where do you live?” she asks.
“California.”
Excitement lights up her entire face. “That’s where Disneyland is.”
“It is,” I laugh, not the least bit surprised by the association. “Have you ever been?”
She snorts. “Yeah, right. I wish, but that will never happen.”
My head tilts at the response. “Why do you say that?”
“Because that would mean Mountie Mike would have to take time off work, and he doesn’t do that unless it’s an emergency.”
“Mountie Mike?” I muse, intrigued by this newest nickname.
“That’s what I call my brother sometimes, especially when I want to tease him.” She snickers behind her hand, bringing another smile to my face.
“Is it just you and your brother?” I ask carefully.