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So much has changed for us in the last ten months. For starters, I got my sister back and I gained a brother too. Edel and Shawn got married right away. They don’t have babies yet, but they have a ton of cats. More importantly, they have each other. Their relationship is single-handedly responsible for making me believe in true love again.
Edel never did have to open that food truck. Instead, she joined the ranks of Emmett and became a social media phenomenon. She’s got a cookbook deal worth way more than the tiny bungalow I bought down the street from them. Preston spends hours running back and forth between the houses. Meanwhile, Shawn is well… Shawn. He’s rock solid, dependable, and honest. He’s saving lives and making goofy memories with our family. It’s so nice to see the love in Edel’s eyes again.
I’ve started loving myself too. I stopped starving my body and let myself indulge. I leaned away from the art of making a perfect home and into the art of creating a happy one. Best of all, I’m chasing my dreams. Not the appropriate ones that people understand, but the wild ones that just a few months ago I wouldn’t dare whisper.
You see, Edel wasn’t the one who wanted to open that food truck in the first place. It was me. The food truck life was the place I’d escape in my mind on all those lonely nights wondering if Spence would ever come home.
But now, it’s real and I can hardly believe it. This December, I’ve officially booked my first holiday bizarre.Jingledwill be officially open for business and everyone is invited. I can hardly wait to see my cookies out in the world.
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Want more of the Tiding family?
Turn the page to read chapter one in Everly’s story, Jingled, for free.
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There’s more to come for the Merry Fudgin Christmas series! Up next, read Oh Fudge by Piper Cook.
These ten women have had it with lots of things this season. They're done with the gimme-gimme customers, the people looking for the "perfect" gift who have no clue what the person likes, and serving the hundredth peppermint latte of the day.
They've gone...grinchy.
But...
They're about to meet a man who is full of the holiday spirit that they've run out of. He's going to help them find their love for the season and in the process, they'll share lots of fudgin' fun.
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Chapter One, Everly
“Preston, put that down!” I scold, sighing deeply and running a hand down my face. My hands are coated in a layer of cookie dough, but I grab desperately at my son, attempting to snatch the phone from his hands. He giggles and dashes from my reach, a cookie hanging from his mouth.
“Butmom,” he says, when I finally grab my phone and throw it down on the counter. I quickly wash my hands, then wipe the case of my phone free from the raw cookie dough. “I just want to play games.”
I shake my head. “Sorry, hun. I need it for the recipe.”
Preston stares at me and cocks his head to the side. “You have it memorized, though.”
I glance out the window and toward the bustling crowd outside. I haven’t opened yet, but already people are about, scouting for booths at the famous annual Findlay holiday craft bizarre.
The narrow rows of booths connected by illuminated string lights somehow warm the frosty December air. I straighten my apron and look in the mirror. The dark green fabric has the name of my company stitched into it,Jingled.Seeing myself wearing it is surreal.
I smooth my hair behind my ear. This is just another first in a year of firsts. But it’s the realization of a dream and my nerves have not calmed down. “There’s no room for error, this has to be perfect.” I talk aloud to myself.
Preston slouches down in one of the chairs and puts his head into his hands. “What can I do then? You won’t let me help, and there’s nobody my age around. Can I call Aunt Edel and ask her to pick me up?”
“No, she’s out of town.” I close my eyes and think for a few moments, this is one of those times when single parenthood simply isn’t fair. “Why don’t you go out and explore some of the open booths?”
His eyes light up. “Really? By myself?”
“Yeah,” I tell him, drying my hands on a towel. “You’re almost ten now. I trust you not to run off. Just don’t talk to strangers, and you know, be… reasonable. Okay?”
Ugh, my parenting bar has been significantly lowered by my divorce.
Preston nods enthusiastically. I know he doesn’t like being cooped up in the food truck for hours on end and I don’t blame him. This isn’t his dream. In fact, being able to smell but not consume all the cookies is more like a nightmare for any kid. But I don’t have another solution. It’s not like I have the funds to hire his nanny back, not without child support and my ex-husband is long gone.
“Wear your jacket!” I tell him when he reaches for the latch on the door.
