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Doc took a seat in the corner. “Not yet.” He rubbed his bushy mustache. “What’s wrong with Jackson?”
“He’s blaming himself.”
“You want me to go up to your place and slap him upside the head?”
“Do you think it would work?”
Doc kicked out his feet. “Probably not.” His black sneakers had seen better days, but Amanda imagined they were comfortable and that’s why Doc wore them. Aspen Cove was like an old pair of shoes to Jackson, but now he wasn’t sure if they’d still fit.
“He’s afraid he won’t be accepted in town now that he burned down the tree.”
“He didn’t burn the tree down. It was an accident.”
“I know, and I told him that, but he’s convinced everyone will look at him differently. Saying it doesn’t matter doesn’t mean it’s true. Right now, words have no power.”
Doc stared at her for a minute. “That must be difficult for you being a wordsmith and all. Words are your currency, and you can’t cash in.” He stared at the wall. “Seems to me that actions always speak louder than words.”
“You’re right, but I’m new here. Who will listen to me?”
“That’s the thing with small towns, everyone is listening. You need to get the message to the right people.”
“The problem is, I don’t know what the message is. I can’t tell everyone that Jackson is depressed. That seems like a betrayal.”
Doc rose. “I can’t help you there. Sounds like you need a brownie.”
“A brownie?”
He nodded and started to walk toward the door. "The best way to get an idea to take root is with Katie's famous brownies," he said before leaving.
"What do I owe you?"
He laughed. "If you ever write about me, I want people to think I look like Sam Elliot when he was in his forties and fifties."
She laughed. "Got it." She waved to Agatha and walked out of the pharmacy. She didn't have a solution, but she wouldn't mind a brownie.
Katie's shop stood at the corner. Its window display was filled with festive decorations that sparked a sense of cheer despite the disaster last night. The bell jingled as Amanda entered, drawing Katie's attention.
"Amanda," Katie greeted, concern evident in her voice. "How's Jackson?"
Amanda gave a small smile, her gaze wandering toward The Wishing Wall. "He's ... struggling."
"I can imagine."
"I don't know what to do. Doc told me to come here and have a brownie, and an idea will take root."
"Doc's rarely wrong." Katie plated a brownie and delivered it to the table under The Wishing Wall.
Amanda took a bite of the brownie and thought about Doc's words, and an idea sparked. She reached out to grab a pen and a small piece of paper. Her heart pounded as she wrote down her wish, a silent prayer on her lips. She stuck it to the board and stepped back.
Katie leaned in to see what Amanda had written. "I wish someone would dig up the perfect tree from our yard and replant it in the town square," Katie read aloud, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Are you serious?"
"I am."
Katie cocked her head. "But when I was out there, you said you'd never give the tree up."
Amanda remembered that day all too well. "They say never say never. And sometimes, never turns into maybe, and yes, when the timing is right, or the need is great. Besides, I don't want to cut it down. I want to transplant it. It seems a shame to kill something so lovely."
"That's a big wish. It's winter, and transplanting will shock it."
