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Wait till you’re forty-eight, Maya thought to herself.
“So that means you were born in 1989?” Brad said.
“Yep.”
Brad rubbed his chin, making a light scratching sound against his five o’clock shadow. “I might have had your lost connection in class at the elementary school. What’s her name?”
Tom’s jaw dropped. “Her name is Sarah. She has dark brown hair and big blue eyes. You can’t forget those eyes.”
Brad was unable to suppress his smile. Maya understood it: there was something intoxicating about Tom’s pure, unquestioned love.
“She’s got to be Sarah Sanderson. I will never forget those eyes.”
“Sanderson?” Tom looked as though he’d just stumbled on treasure.
“Her parents live a few blocks from here,” Brad went on. “I run into them from time to time, and they tell me about all her adventures around the world. She’s quite a traveler.”
Tom’s eyes glistened with the light of the fire. “Do you know if she’s home?”
“She always comes home for Christmas,” Brad explained. “I imagine if she’s not back yet, she’ll be here in a couple of weeks.”
Tom sputtered with disbelief, collected his things, and retreated upstairs to his bedroom. Winnie, Brad, and Maya waited until they heard the click of his door before giggling quietly. Maya’s heart felt like a balloon, apt to float out of her body.
“You’re our Christmas cupid. When will you find my Christmas date?” Winnie teased— her eyes illuminated in a way that made it clear she found Brad very attractive. Maya ached with jealousy.
But Brad regarded her no differently and instead tilted his body toward Maya. “There are plenty of single folks in Hollygrove,” he said. “And most of them are kind, good-hearted people. I can’t recommend living in this small town enough.”
And then— impossibly— he winked. At Maya. Or had she imagined it? It had happened so quickly, just a flash. Maya’s stomach flipped over just as Winnie asked Brad again about the hiking trails. Brad began to recite the trail names to Winnie as she typed them in a notes folder on her phone. Maya had the sudden instinct to run into the bathroom, call Phoebe, and wail with love for this new man. But that was obviously unhinged. Brad was just a kind, good-hearted man, like so many others in Hollygrove. She couldn’t jump to conclusions. She was too old for that.
Eventually, Felicity came to collect everyone in the Hollygrove Bed and Breakfast for dinner. Brad was caught in the swell and sat beside Maya at the dining room table, nodding along to Tom as he talked about his memories of Sarah back in India. It occurred to Maya that love was a marvelous and dangerous drug and that the influx of associated hormones could make you do insane things, like travel to Hollygrove without knowing someone’s last name. Was it ever worth it?
“Brad, would you do the honors?” Felicity suggested, taking Conor’s hand.
Maya bowed her head, and her heart blasted against her ribcage with such force that she felt sure the table shook.
“Dear Lord,” Brad began tenderly, “thank you for bringing us together here in the warmth of the Hollygrove Bed and Breakfast. Thank you for the marvelous gifts of Felicity’s cooking, for the friendliness of Hollygrove folks, and for the roofs over our heads. We thank you for eventually bringing Tom and Sarah back together after months apart and for Winnie embarking into the woods and finding her way out again. And we thank you, oh Lord, for Maya’s persistence this week as she works under a formidable deadline— and for the entire town coming together to help her. Amen.”
ChapterSeven
Brad made the mistake of promising Maya twenty dozen Christmas cookies for the Christmas festival. He felt the words roll off his tongue easily, along with, “I love teaching my kids at school to bake. I can’t say they’ll be frosted beautifully, but Hollygrove folks love messily decorated Christmas cookies from the local kids.”
Maya clasped her hands together, her eyes gleaming. They were out on the front porch of the Hollygrove Bed and Breakfast as soft snow fell through the darkness. Brad had the sudden instinct to close the distance between them, wrap his arms around her, and kiss her. But just as soon as he considered it, he banished the thought. He hadn’t kissed anyone in more than ten years. It now seemed like a complicated procedure— two sets of lips upon one another, moving around. Where would he put his head? He tried to remember the last romantic scene he’d watched in a film, but the memory of it made his stomach curdle. He was overthinking this. Probably, Maya had a boyfriend back in the city. She was only here to claim her inheritance. She probably thought Hollygrove and its population were hokey and lame.
“You can come by to see us in action if you want,” Brad went on stupidly. “We’ll do the baking on Thursday and the frosting on Friday so the cookies aren’t too stale by Saturday.”
“I’d like that very much.” Maya sounded wistful, although perhaps that was just in Brad’s imagination.
Brad walked home with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, playing over the events of the evening in his mind. He, Winnie, Tom, Felicity, Conor, and Maya had stayed up late, pouring glasses of wine and swapping stories. Well, most everyone had told stories, except for Maya. She seemed content to listen and ask questions, to allow everyone else’s personalities to sizzle while she remained secretive. Still, every time she glanced Brad’s way, a shiver ran up his spine. He dared to imagine what it would be like to wake up next to her as the light spilled through his bedroom window. He dared to imagine laughing with her, perhaps over pancakes. She’d called herself a “foodie,” and he’d said, “I just eat anything I come across. Does that make me a foodie?” And she’d laughed as though he’d said the funniest thing in the world.
It was now Thursday morning. Brad had purchased everything necessary for the big Christmas baking session, and the kids in his class were lined up in front of the bathrooms to scrub their hands with soap and water. They’d been told there would be no spelling test and no math test today, and they were euphoric, speaking a little too loudly.
“What’s all the commotion?” Rainey stepped out of her classroom and put her hands on her hips.
Brad’s heart sank.
“We’re baking cookies!” One of his children explained to Rainey.
“Is that so?” Rainey asked.
