Page 39 of Postmarked December

Marion shook her head. “Who are you after this weekend? While I’ve always adored you, you’ve got this bright light inside you that wasn’t there before.”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m turning a corner.”

“Turn, girl!” Marion took her hand and gave her a spin, the two of them giggling next to the glimmer of Christmas lights.

Chapter Sixteen

Marion lived in a rancher, tucked away on a side street in the city, far enough from the hustle and bustle to feel as though they were in the suburbs, but close enough to be downtown in a matter of minutes. Heather pulled up at 9 a.m. sharp. She carried a bag of baking ingredients and Hope Bag supplies to the front door and rang the bell. Scarlett casually peered out at her from a nearby windowsill.

Marion opened the door and the cat vanished from view, reappearing at Heather’s leg with a purr. Marion took the bags from Heather, who bent down and stroked the kitten’s little head.

“I’ve been thinking about this project all morning,” Marion said, ushering her inside past the entryway table full of Christmas cards from loved ones. “I have a pile of combs, tissues, and lip balm for each bag.”

“Those are perfect. I got toothbrushes, travel toothpaste, and soap.”

Heather followed her past a stout Christmas tree adorned with hand-tied red ribbons and various ornaments that she recognized were given to Marion by students in their library classes over the years. The corner next to the kitchen held a cozy reading chair, the walls behind it lined with books.

While Marion was the least organized of the two of them, she won the award for the coziest home. Everything in it meant something. Heather only wished she could have that one day. After losing Toby, she hadn’t taken care of filling her home with thoughtful items. Even the tree had been out of obligation, to keep her in the present.

She stripped off her coat and hung it on a kitchen chair. Marion put her bag on the counter and began unpacking it, adding the items to the ingredients already out and the list of what they’d need. They’d decided on chocolate chip cookies and sugar cookies, with a few macaroons thrown in.

Baking had been Toby’s domain. Heather stepped into the task with resolution, another new undertaking to add to her changing perspective, thanks to her weekend with Nick.

“We’ve got all-purpose flour, granulated sugar,” Marion said, ticking off her list, “brown sugar, unsalted butter, eggs, vanilla extract, baking powder, baking soda, salt, chocolate chips, oil, and sweetened shredded coconut…”

“I wonder when would be a good time to call Nick,” Heather said, her thoughts spilling out into the open. “How long should I wait?”

Marion put down the pad of paper. “He hasn’t called yet?”

“No, but it’s only morning, and we got in yesterday afternoon—he does have a life, even if I don’t.”

“I resent that,” Marion said with a smirk, before bending down and retrieving a mixing bowl from a lower cabinet.

“You know what I mean.” She paused. “So when should I call him?”

Marion set two batter stirrers on the counter. “Wait for him to call you.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because—and I say this with love—I already see how much you’re depending on this. You’re literally hanging on every move he makes. You can be happy without him. Push yourself.”

Heather blew air through her lips. “Gosh, you’re right. I only just met him, and I already feel like he’s some sort of link to a new life. Ugh. He doesn’t need that kind of pressure, and I have to learn to stand on my own two feet.” She leaned on the counter. “The problem is that I had such a great time with him. I didn’t think I was capable of enjoying myself like that anymore. And after the year I’ve had, I crave that feeling again.”

“I hear you. But you don’t want to rush headfirst into a relationship. If things don’t work out, it could crush you. Maybe let the sensation of happiness linger for a while. Then, when he calls, you’ll be ready to take things slowly.”

“You’re such a wonderful voice of reason.”

“I’m going to hold you to that statement the next time we have a faculty dress-up day and I offer my suggestions.”

“No.” She pointed at Marion. “We’re not doing Book Character Sound-Effect Day. Can you imagine how loud a school full of kids making all that noise would be? Nightmare.”

“It would be fuuuuun. And the kids would remember it forever.”

“But we’d all lose our hearing, and we kind of need that.”

“It’s so much more original than dress-up day.” She offered a long, slow blink to emphasize her point.

“Dress-up day works. The kids learn the characters, read the books, and they get to wear something memorable.”