She tried to picture it and immediately saw the logistical nightmare. “Lincoln, how would I transport a life-sized chocolate Christmas tree? How would I build it here with so little space? How would I keep it from melting under the photo lights? How would I even make something that big without it collapsing under its own weight?”
“Right, okay, maybe not life-sized,” he said, clearly thinking hard. “What about… a chocolate replica of the town square? With little chocolate buildings and everything?”
Despite her stress, Imogen couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re very enthusiastic, but I think you’re thinking more like a Christmas display than something that would photograph well for a food magazine.”
“Fair point,” Lincoln admitted with a sheepish grin. “Maybe I’m not the one who should be helping with this. But I know you’ll figure out something amazing. You always do.”
Before Imogen could respond, the shop door chimed again, and Katie bounded in with all the energy that only a twelve-year-old could possess.
“Mom! Oh… hey, Mr. Blackwell!” Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and her entire face brightened as if she’d had an idea when she saw Lincoln that completely derailed whatever prior train of thought she’d been on. “Can we go ice skating, Mom? Please? You said maybe we could go this week, and I finished all my homework last night, and?—”
“Breathe, Katie,” Imogen said with obvious amusement, although her tone was affectionate. “You want to go ice skatingnow?”
“Please?” Katie pouted adorably at her, clearly not at all concerned with things like store hours.
Imogen took a breath, looking around the empty shop. No one had come in for the last twenty minutes at least, and she’d already done more than the volume she’d set as her sales goal for the day. And shewasoverly stressed. Maybe a break would do her good, and it wouldn’t hurt anything if she missed out on a few customers while she stepped away for a little while. Maybe some fresh air and a little time to think would help to clear her mind about the exhibit piece.
“You know what?” she said, making a snap decision. “That actually sounds perfect. Let me grab my coat.”
Katie let out a whoop of joy that made both adults smile, and Imogen found herself caught up in her daughter’s infectiousenthusiasm. As she retrieved her winter coat from the back office and flipped the sign to indicate she’d be back in an hour, she felt some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
Lincoln went out to his truck, and Imogen and Katie followed in her SUV. They drove over to the ice rink, which was also quiet at this time of day, the inside cold and full of the scent of pizza and other concession foods. Imogen gave Katie a ten dollar bill, letting her run off to grab pizza and her skates, and settled in at the side of the rink to watch.
Katie came back a few minutes later, balancing a paper plate with a huge, greasy slice of pizza on it in one hand and holding her skates in the other. Imogen helped Katie lace them up, her mind still lingering on the photoshoot.
“Are you going to skate?” Katie asked as Imogen finished with the last lace.
“Maybe in a few minutes,” Imogen said. “I want to watch you for a bit first.”
As Katie pushed off onto the ice with confident strokes, Imogen found herself standing at the barrier next to Lincoln, both of them watching the girl glide gracefully around the rink. All of Katie’s time on the ice had paid off—she looked confident and natural.
“She’s really good,” Imogen observed.
“She is,” Lincoln confirmed, and Imogen could hear pride in his voice. “She’s taken to it so well. It’s like anything else she has going on just slides away and she can just focus on this one thing. Just movement and music and ice.”
“I can understand that. It’s how I feel when I’m making chocolates.” Imogen smiled. “Pretty much exactly how I feel, honestly.”
“So,” Lincoln said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “still thinking about your exhibit piece?”
“Yeah,” Imogen admitted. “It’s like it’s running on a loop in my head. Every time I think I might have an idea, I immediately see all the reasons why it won’t work.”
Lincoln turned slightly to look at her. “Well, what kinds of things have you considered?”
“Everything from elaborate truffle arrangements to chocolate sculptures to some kind of interactive dessert experience. But nothing feels right. It either seems too simple or completely impossible to execute well.”
They continued chatting as they watched Katie navigate the ice, Imogen occasionally calling out encouragement. The conversation was easy and comfortable in a way that reminded Imogen of how naturally they’d always been able to talk to each other.
“Oh!” Lincoln said suddenly, glancing over toward where several boxes were sitting near the entrance. “I wanted to show you something. Come here.”
Imogen glanced at Katie to make sure she was all right before following him over to the boxes. Lincoln unrolled a large printed photo and stretched it out.
“This is my plan for the new display for the rink this year. Everyone in Fir Tree Grove goes so overboard with decorations every holiday, I thought this year I’d join in some of it.”
Imogen peered at the photo. It was a huge North Pole display, she realized, complete with Santa’s workshop, animatronic elves, a sleigh and reindeer, and a train running behind it all. “Oh, wow!” she murmured, as she looked it over.
“Wait until you see it fully assembled,” Lincoln said with a grin. “It’s incredibly detailed. Hand-painted, multiple levels, little windows with LED lights behind them, tiny doors, presents, the whole thing. It blew my mind, honestly.”
“This is definitely going to put your display over the top,” Imogen agreed, looking it over again. And then, like lightning striking, inspiration hit her.
