Page 3 of Sweet Satisfaction


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All the women liked to talk to him about their granddaughters or nieces. Sometimes it was the daughter of a good friend in for Harpers Point for their first Christmas here. The holidays had a way of turning the community ladies into a team of relentless matchmakers .

He didn’t need to be paired up. He had enough problems without worrying about fucking women over the holidays .

“Have a good day, Ms. Crawford.” The bells on the fresh greenery wreaths jingled as the doors closed behind him .

Evan Jacobs wasn’t the kind of man to get sucked into sentimental tradition, but if he wanted to serve another term, he was going to have to find a way to embrace it. That meant participating in the bake-off, the mistletoe shootout, and the Snow Ball on Christmas Eve .

“There he is. Good morning, Mayor.” Georgia beamed when Evan strolled into the mayoral suite. She had served every mayor since 1985. She was as much a legend in town as the annual Snow Ball .

Her gray hair was pulled back in a bun. Christmas tree earrings dangled from her lobes. Evan tried not to stare at the sweater she wore. Rudolph’s nose was actually blinking .

“Good morning, Georgia. Messages?” He leaned over the poinsettia on her desk to collect the stack of pink notes .

“I copied down all the emails for you .”

“Georgia, you could have just hit forward. I can read them on my laptop .”

No matter how many times he explained how the email system worked, Georgia wouldn’t let go of the old ways of running the communication inside the office. Evan had even brought in a few high school students after school from the coding program to give her some basics. Nothing stuck .

“Oh, this was much easier, sir .”

He sighed. “Thanks. I’ll look them over in my office .”

He closed the door that separated their two offices from each other. He placed the coffee on the corner of his desk and sorted the messages into two piles: urgent and next week. The next week stack was significantly higher. He grumbled when he finished reading the last one .

It was from Claudine Francis. If he discarded this particular message into the second pile, Claudine would inevitably call again. However, if he returned the call, he had a feeling he’d regret it. It was a no-win situation. She could be a fucking nightmare when she wanted to be .

Evan sat into the cool leather seat behind his desk. He stared at the American Flag framed on the opposite wall. It had been a gift when from the town when he was sworn in as mayor. Along the bottom was a brass plate with his name and the date of his inauguration .

He stared at the stripes and the stars. Sometimes it felt like the years on deployment were a lifetime ago. When he was a different man. When the only thing that mattered was survival. Other days it felt as if he could almost taste the sand in his mouth and the dryness in his throat. He could hear the explosives in the distance .

Evan shook his head. There were a lot of things he couldn’t change about the past .

Three

Cami

T he brass key turned in the lock with a solid click. Cami felt the door give way as she pushed it open. It creaked with the impact as if the room had been locked for fifty years .

Cami stared at the open space. The black and white tiles were coated in dust. Over head the decorative tin tiles were rusted in spots where the roof had leaked. How had things gotten so bad? She crossed the threshold, mustering up the courage to stand in the middle of the room she now owned. She wasn’t an intruder. This was hers now .

The store front windows ran the entire length of her part of the building, facing the main downtown drag. Just like her loft apartment upstairs, one side was all brick. To her right was an arched doorway that led to the shoppette. Well, what used to be the candy shop. She wondered when the last time her aunt actually sold a piece of candy from one of the glass cases .

They used to be filled with fudge and macaroons. Homemade peppermints and rock candy on sticks. There was nothing more beautiful at Christmas than to stare inside the deep oak cabinet and eye the displays her aunt would make. There was even a tiny train that would make a loop around mint trees, carrying box cars of marshmallow gift boxes. Everyone in Harpers Point always stopped to look in the window at that year’s gingerbread house. Cami’s aunt made every dot, every wreath, every flake of snow out of her special sugar recipes. There was nothing like that display .

But now the great antique case stood empty. The train was packed in a box somewhere. And Cami wasn’t even sure the ovens were in working condition .

She glanced at the empty room adjoining the candy shop. Where did she start first ?

* * *

“H ello? Hello?”

Cami looked up from the floor. “Oh hi. Sorry, we aren’t open yet .”

She had just dipped her latex gloved hand in a soapy bucket of water. The only way to get the marble floor clean again was on her hands and knees. She had posted Closed signs on the storefront doors, but had forgotten to relock them after taking out a load of trash .

“Cami Addison, is that you ?”

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