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“But… you already gave me a gift.”
He had. When Franklin first walked in for dinner, he brought a fancy bottle of wine in one hand and an oversized, frilly gift bag in the other. He insisted that she open it before they ate. Inside was a bath set, a plush robe for her lazy nights, and an empty notebook for new recipes. She loved each thing she pulled out of the bag.
“So did you,” Franklin reminded her. Because, as soon as Gloria opened her presents, she brought out his pile for him to open—except for the biggie, of course. “Seems as if we both kept a little something up our sleeves.”
Gloria reluctantly let him head toward the front door. He must have kept the gift box outside for a surprise because, when he handed it to her, the wrapping paper was chilly to the touch.
She ripped it off, letting it flutter to the floor. Whatever it was was heavy and tucked inside of a plain cardboard box. With a curious look toward Franklin, Gloria opened it. She tossed the tissue paper to the side, gasping when she realized what she was looking at.
It was an ice cream dish. Made of blown glass, perfectly shaped to fit one of her oversized creations, it was an exquisite sundae bowl, complete with a decorative metal rim fit perfectly to the edge of the glass.
“Look at it,” murmured Franklin.
She peered closer. Painstakingly engraved in a tiny, script along the metal-rimmed edge, it said: Gloria’s Sundae Shoppe.
“You told me to be proud of my business. I am. I’ve built the garage up from the ground over the last ten years. Now it’s your turn. Because I already believe in you, Gloria. No matter what this is… if you’re here next Christmas, if you even want me here with you by then… I know one day you’re gonna have your own place.”
It was hard to read the engraved letters through the sheen of her tears as they made a sudden return. She ran her thumb around the edge. The craftsmanship was astonishing. “Did you… did you make this for me? By hand and everything?”
He nodded. “I can make you more for whenever your shop is ready. And I’m not trying to convince you of anything… I’ll never stand in your way of seeing your dream come true… but, well, Hamlet likes ice cream, too.”
Gloria could just see it. A cozy little shop in the heart of the small town, creating her ice cream flavors, and scooping her creations out in bowls just like this.
Now, she didn’t know where she was going to be in a year from then. She already agreed to stay in Hamlet for at least that long and who knows? It wasn’t like she had any firm plans other than using her inheritance to start Gloria’s Sundae Shoppe at last. Because he was right. It was her dream.
But he did make a very valid point.
The townspeople of Hamlet really did like ice cream.
Epilogue
One year later
Just like last year, one cabin on the mountainside was decorated to the nines. A massive wreath, garland wrapped around the support posts, twinkling lights strung everywhere. Through the window facing out, you could see a ten-foot douglas fir in the front room, trimmed and tinseled, with Franklin’s ornaments weighing down the thick boughs.
The other cabin? A wilted poinsettia sat on the edge of the porch, half-buried in the recent snowfall.
Gloria really needed to give in and throw it away. Not only did the mountain temps basically kill the plant, but she was afraid that some of the wildlife might decide the once-vivid red leaves might make a tasty snack.
It was the principle, though. Sure, she didn’t own the cabin anymore—at least, come January 1st, she wouldn’t own it—but she felt bad that Franklin’s cabin looked fit for a visit from Santa while Great Aunt Patti’s home was empty.
Technically, it was still Gloria’s place. In order to fulfill the requirements of her great aunt’s will, she couldn’t finalize the sale until after the new year. But since she kind of, sort of moved out a couple of weeks ago, she hadn’t felt right decorated the cabin. The poinsettia was more of a goodwill gesture, a thank you for buying the cabin come January.
It was Dr. De Angelis who had put in the winning bid. Gloria tried not to think about how much the doctor was willing to pay since she tended to go a little spacey at the thought of all that money.
To be honest, she wasn’t even sure his whopping bid had anything to do with the home repair that she and Franklin put into the cabin over the last year. Rumor around Hamlet was that the De Angelises’ marriage was in trouble. While they still lived together in their house toward the middle of town, Dr. De Angelis was spending more and more time in his office mountainside, almost as if he was avoiding the sheriff.
The second Gloria gave her answer to Sadie—that she would be selling the cabin as soon as she was allowed to—Dr. De Angelis put in his offer. Some other locals came close, but no one topped it. The doctor seemed desperate to buy some property mountainside and, well, that was fine with Gloria.
Even if she did feel a little guilty for selling it.
It just made sense, though. Franklin’s place was bigger, and despite the work they put into Great Aunt Patti’s cabin, it was still in better shape. Not like she meant to move in. It just happened. Sometime over the last year, as their relationship blossomed and developed, Gloria started spending more and more of her time over at Franklin’s. He bought a television and a disc player for his house, then surprised her with an ice cream maker for his kitchen. Anything to make her feel at home with him.
He wasn’t exactly subtle about it. For her twenty-fifth birthday in September, he even painted the walls in his bedroom—going from a boring light brown to a soothing sage green that matched the fancy bedding he gave her as a gift. She had figured out ages ago that he was trying to convince her to stay with him, and even after she moved the rest of her stuff in with him, it was obvious that he was still working on her.
Which was why their cabin was as decked out as it was. This Christmas, Franklin did as much as the decorating as Gloria did, if not more. He was one of the first to string up his lights, and when he chose to go traditional red, white, and green for his color scheme, the rest of Hamlet followed suit. Every other house matched theirs now.
Still, Gloria admitted, their house looked the best. And she decided she was only the teensiest bit biased.
