Page 46 of Deck the Hauls

Dana chuckled. “Well, as it happens, Roz went through a stage of being fervently anti-cheese, but thankfully she’s over that now.”

I handed the cheeseboard to Dana. “Oh? I’m sensing there’s a funny story here.”

“When she first started at the farm, she had a run-in with a cow. It put her off dairy for a while.”

I laughed. “Oh my god. The perils of being a farmer. I’m glad she’s fully recovered now. Cheese is the best.”

Dana examined the cheeseboard and nodded. “I think all my friends would love this.” She handed the cheeseboard to the stall owner with a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad that’s done. Thank you. It’s been hanging over my head.”

We continued to browse the stalls, sipping our hot chocolate as we went.

“Are you still meeting with Ashley and the photographer after this?” Dana asked.

“Yep, out front at four.” I looked at my watch. There was still plenty of time.

“Do you talk to the media much?” Dana took another sip from her hot chocolate.

This was an odd line of questioning. “Not anymore. For Clique, I did a press junket. And I had a few interviews for Harrowgate.” Then there was Rebecca.

I gripped the half-empty cup of hot chocolate. By delaying my decision, how much harm was that causing others?

A stall selling condiments caught my eye and I darted over to it. “Oh, this would be perfect for Dad,” I said, inspecting a set of four locally made hot sauces in a wooden box. “Despite working in the restaurant business for forty-plus years, he’s still a massive foodie and he loves hot sauce.”

I picked up a few interesting-sounding spice mixtures at the same stall, then a pair of fleece-lined slippers for Mom at a stall selling cozy winter attire.

“Do you have anyone else you need to buy gifts for?” Dana asked as we continued our tour of the market.

I glanced down at my watch. Fifteen minutes until I was meant to meet the photographer.

“Just my sister. But if you’re getting sick of shopping, I can do it another time.”

“No, I’m happy to keep going,” Dana said.

She did look happy. Her shoulders were still relaxed and there were no worry lines on her face.

Perhaps the Christmas exposure therapy was helping?

We wandered past stalls selling Christmas decorations, pottery, and jewelry. I stopped at a table laden with scented candles in apothecary-style brown glass jars.

“Lucia loves candles.” I picked up a candle and sniffed it. It smelled like bourbon and woodsmoke. Nice, but not Lucia’s style.

“Does your sister live in Brooklyn too?” Dana sniffed a candle called Cotton Candy and grimaced.

I held back a chuckle and shook my head. “No, she lives in LA, but she’ll be back home for Thanksgiving and again for Christmas.”

“Are you close?” Dana put the candle down and picked up another.

I smiled. “Yes, she’s one of my closest friends. We usually talk to each other at least a few times a week.”

I should call her again, see if she felt more like talking this time.

“Oh, that’s so nice,” Dana said.

“Do you have any siblings?” I asked tentatively.

Dana’s smile vanished. “A brother. But we’re not close anymore.”

I glanced at Dana. Had they had a falling out, or just drifted apart over the years? If either happened to me and Lucia, I would be devastated. Whatever the reason, it was clear from her tone that Dana didn’t want to talk about it.