She gestured toward the window in the general direction of her neighborhood. “Jackson’s been working so hard to put up lights, and I appreciate his efforts, but what we have so far just isn’t going to compete with what our neighbors are planning. It’s going to look like we didn’t even try.”
Henry nodded, his eyes twinkling slightly. “And you’re wondering if I might be available to help with your display?”
“Exactly!” Vanessa looked at him hopefully. “I know you’re probablysobusy, but if you had the time, and you were willing to help?—”
“I do have a pretty full plate most days,” Henry said finally, his voice thoughtful. “But I might be able to work something out. Would you be looking for a completely new installation, or would you want to incorporate what Jackson has already put up?”
“Whatever you think would work best,” Vanessa said eagerly. “I want it to look impressive, but I also don’t want to completely disregard the work he’s already done.”
“Okay.” Henry nodded. “I could come over this week, if you’re really serious. Talk with the two of you, figure out what you’re going for, come up with a shopping list. We’ll get your house spruced up in no time. It would mean some long days to get everything completed before the rest of the neighborhood is already done, but it’s doable.”
“Really?” Vanessa had to fight the urge to jump out of her chair. “You’d be willing to take on our project?”
“I’d be happy to,” Henry said, still calm and quiet despite her enthusiasm. Vanessa couldn’t stop the smile that was overtaking her face.
Without thinking, she leaped from her chair and threw her arms around Henry in an impulsive hug. It was only after she’d already embraced him that she realized how presumptuous the gesture was—Henry was a reserved man who probably didn’t love being abruptly hugged by acquaintances.
But if Henry was uncomfortable with the unexpected hug, he didn’t show it. He simply patted her shoulder gently and then disentangled himself with a small, understanding smile.
“It’s no trouble at all,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a warmth that hadn’t been there before. “I’ll come by tomorrow morning to take a look at what we’re working with and discuss some options with you and Jackson. We’ll figure out something that works for both of you.”
“Thank you so much,” Vanessa said, trying to contain her excitement to a more appropriate level. “This means more to me than you know. I feel like I’m still figuring out how to be part of this community, and participating in traditions like this feels really important.”
Henry’s expression softened slightly. “I understand. It takes time to find your place in a small town.”
“I should let you get back to your work,” she said, moving toward the door. “And I should get home to tell Jackson thegood news. Thank you again, Henry. I really can’t express how grateful I am.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Henry replied, already moving back toward his workbench. “We’ll start planning something special.”
As Vanessa drove back toward Birch Street, her mind was racing with excitement.
She could hardly wait to see Jackson’s reaction to this development. He’d probably think she was crazy for approaching Henry on such short notice, but she had a feeling he’d also be relieved.
More than that though, Vanessa felt a deep sense of satisfaction at having found a solution. This was exactly the kind of problem-solving that had made her successful in her previous career, and it felt good to apply those skills to something that mattered to her personally. Sometimes she felt like she’d been a completely different person before moving here, lived a completely different life, and it was nice to feel like the parts of herself that had done well in her old life weren’t completely wasted on the new one.
As she pulled into their driveway, she could see Jackson still standing in the front yard, now examining his light installation from various angles. The sight of him—her perfect husband who was willing to climb ladders and string lights just to make her happy—filled her with a rush of affection that made her chest tight with emotion.
They were going to have the most beautiful house on Birch Street.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The early morning air carried a crisp bite that made Mabel’s cheeks flush pink as she and Vanessa hurried up the path to George’s front door. The snow on either side of the shoveled drive—a neighbor had handled that yesterday—glittered in the early morning light, and Mabel took it all in for a moment before unlocking the front door to head inside.
Vanessa was carrying everything they needed to make George a good breakfast before they headed into the toy shop that day. He still wasn’t feeling well, and Mabel felt sure that the best path to getting him in good health again was making sure he ate well. She didn’t want him to have to forage for himself, knowing he wouldn’t eat as well as he would if she was caring for him.
She’d brought fresh eggs from the local farm, thick-cut bacon, homemade biscuits she’d baked the night before, and a jar of local strawberry preserves that she’d been saving for a special occasion. If nursing George back to health wasn’t special enough, she didn’t know what was.
“Are you sure he won’t mind us barging in this early?” Vanessa asked, adjusting her scarf against the morning chill.Her breath formed small puffs in the cold air, and she stamped her feet lightly on the porch to keep warm.
“He’s probably still asleep,” Mabel said with a laugh. “And besides, you know as well as I do that George Lowery would live on nothing but coffee and stale crackers while he’s sick if left to his own devices.”
The lights on the Christmas tree were off, and Mabel turned them on to give the living room a cozy glow as they headed into the kitchen. “I’ll start cooking,” Vanessa said, “if you want to go check on him. Jackson’s taught me a thing or two.”
“I’ll do that,” Mabel said, fetching the things to make a quick cup of tea before heading up to George’s room.
“George?” she called softly as she rapped on the door, not wanting to startle him if he was still sleeping. “It’s Mabel and Vanessa. We’ve come to make you breakfast.”
A weak cough echoed from the direction of his bedroom, followed by the sound of shuffling feet. Moments later, George appeared in the doorway, wrapped in his thick robe. His gray hair was disheveled, and his normally bright eyes were dulled by illness, but he managed a grateful smile when he saw her.
