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“Yeah. We put it on the itinerary,” Emme added.
Chace and Holly shared a smile over the twins’ heads. At seven, they were quite savvy, especially when it played to their benefit. Not that it mattered, considering Chace had already decided to allow his nieces to call the shots.
Within reason, of course.
“Last one to Sugar Rush has to do the dishes for a week,” he challenged, grabbing all their trash and tossing it into a plastic receptacle before following at a much slower pace. Chace didn’t care if he was the last to arrive and had to do dishes after every meal for the rest of his life.
Not after he looked up and saw Holly had waited for him.
7
Don’t read anything into it,Chace cautioned himself as he and Holly walked side by side to the red brick building in the middle of the block. He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets to keep from reaching for her hand after inadvertently bumping into her arm for the second time.
He noticed Holly had done the same.
The closer they got to Sugar Rush, the stronger the mouth-watering aromas wafting out of the bakery became. Just like they had since the day Michael and Genevieve Cavaletti traveled to Hickory Ridge from New York City almost forty years ago with a dream to open a confectionary using the decades of family recipes for every kind of cake, pie, cookie, and sweet treat imaginable.
In Hickory Ridge, a birthday wasn’t a birthday without a custom cake from Sugar Rush.
“Smells delicious, as always,” Holly said as one of the double magenta doors opened, releasing another fresh shot of sugar-baked goodness to permeate the air.
Chace reached above Holly’s head to hold the already-opened door so they could enter the pastel pink and green world of sugar delights. The side where the display cases and cash register were set up remained intact, but the eating side with the round white tables and café chairs had been transformed to include long tables for the cookie decorating contest.
They found Emme and Wren up front. They’d already signed themselves in, donned their white baker’s aprons, and waited with the other contestants for their instructions. “All set?” Chace asked.
Both girls thrust their jackets at them. “Can you hold these for us?”
“Sure.” Chace took them and handed one to Holly.
“You better go find a table so you can watch,” Emme suggested.
“Will do, boss,” Chace replied with a mock salute.
“Is everyone ready?” the owner of Sugar Rush, Genevieve Cavaletti, spoke into the microphone hooked up to a portable speaker.
Squeals and cheers followed.
“Glad to hear it,” Gigi, as both family and friends knew her, answered with a musical laugh.
Holly pointed to a table in the corner. “How’s that?”
“Perfect.”
Carefully, they wove their way through the maze of tables, chairs, and clearly more people than the fire marshal deemed safe, to reach the last remaining hi-top. They removed their coats, stashing theirs, along with the twins’, on an empty chair before taking a seat at the exact moment Gigi announced they were ready to begin.
Eagerly, all the participants found a spot behind one of the four long tables laden with various seasonal sugar cookie cut-outs, colored icing, sugar crystals, and edible decorating supplies. Each child under twelve would decorate as many cookies as possible in thirty minutes and present their three best to a panel of “cookie experts” who would judge them.
“Think they’ll have as much fun as we did?” Chace asked, leaning close to be heard without shouting. He and Holly had participated in the contest every year while growing up. Neither ever won, but they were allowed to eat their creations, which for Chace was victory enough since Holly always shared at least half of hers with him.
“Of course.” Smiling, Holly pointed to where the twins stood side by side. With their heads bent, both were concentrating intently on designing and decorating their assortment of cookies.
“Do you still come to the festival every year?”
“Parts of it. Sometimes, I help with fundraisers the school sets up. If it’s not too cold, I usually come for the parade, but I always try to make time for the tree lighting.”
“And the nativity?”
“Yeah.” Nodding, she smiled, and Chace felt ten times lighter inside.
