The Mills & Boon Christmas Wishes Collection. Maisey Yates
hopeless, you know. Of course I read the recipe. What are you like?”
With a dramatic sigh Aunt Bessie took the tray from the oven and ripped off the foil. “That recipe called for a whole chicken. Not teeny tiny pieces like this. You’ve gone and made cardboard out of it.”
It was Mom’s turn to do the guppy impression. “Chicken is chicken.”
Aunt Bessie hooted. “No, chicken isn’t chicken, Annabelle. Right, well, there’s nothing we can do with this, so let’s see what we can salvage out of the fridge.” She rummaged around, mumbling to herself before closing the fridge door.
“OK, we’re going out. Get your coats. We’ll have burgers and beers at Shakin’ Shack and I don’t want to hear any excuses.”
I waited a beat. Waited for Mom to refuse point-blank. We’d made it through Christmas, but even that had been a huge step for Mom. Going out to a restaurant… Instead, Mom took the tray from the bench and tipped the cardboard chicken into the bin. “Well, sure, but I can’t leave the kitchen like this,” Mom said.
I suppressed a victorious smile. “We’ll clean up now, Mom, all of us, and then we’ll go.”
There was no way Mom could leave the cottage if her kitchen was untidy – she’d never be able to relax, and this was a big step for her – so we all bustled around, tidying as quickly as we could in case she changed her mind. When Mom put the trash bag in the outdoor bin, Aunt Bessie whispered, “I didn’t think she’d say yes!”
“When was the last time she went out to town for dinner?” I whispered, still surprised.
“Ages ago.”
I nodded, “OK, let’s make it a really fun night.”
This was one gigantic Neil Armstrong kind of leap forward. We were getting closer to that sitcom mother and daughter vision I’d always had. I knew it could all crumble when she visited Cedarwood and set eyes on the maze again, but for tonight so far so good.
Turning back to Aunt Bessie I wound my scarf around my neck. “How’s your Instagram account going?”
Aunt Bessie’s eyes shone, and she grabbed her cell from her bag. “Oh, Clio, it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done. I borrowed one of those Social Media for Dummies books and worked out how to ramp up my followers. I’ve been getting orders from all over the country, but are you ready for the kicker?”
“Yes.”
“Helena from America Today re-Insta’d my death-by-chocolate donut tower. You know the one – thirty-six chocolate ganache-filled donuts stuck together with dark chocolate icing, and topped with shards of toffee and spun sugar.”
“Yes, I know the one!” I exclaimed, amazed at how far Aunt Bessie had come in a matter of days.
“Well, anyway, she got thousands of comments from her followers and I mean thousands, Clio.” Aunt Bessie’s cheeks pinked with happiness. “So she asked me to come on the show and do a baking demonstration. I was waiting until dinner to tell you and Annabelle all about it.”
With a shaky hand Aunt Bessie held up her phone and showed me Helena’s re-Insta of the spectacular donut tower, and, sure enough, there were thousands of comments underneath the picture. “Oh my God, Aunt Bessie, that is incredible!”
“I know, I know! I couldn’t believe it. Now, what do you think I should wear on the show? My tastes might be a little outlandish for primetime morning TV.” Her eyebrows pulled together.
“I think you’re perfect the way you are, Aunt Bessie, especially for primetime TV. Why don’t you wear the cobalt-blue pant suit? Your scarlet lipstick goes perfectly with that color.”
“OK,” she said, grinning. “I do love that suit.”
“My aunt the celebrity.”
Mom wandered back in so we turned away from each other and finished cleaning the rest of the kitchen in companionable silence.
***
Later that night, I was back in the office, smiling like a loon. Not only had Mom had dinner out for the first time in years, but she’d agreed to visit Cedarwood and show me the maze. Then I’d returned home to a flurry of emails about potential spring accommodation bookings at the lodge. At the rate we were going I’d have to employ Cruz to cook full-time. And really, we needed someone to handle the guest activities too.
Isla had been flitting from job to job as we needed her, but once spring had sprung she’d have her work cut out for her managing the expansive gardens alone.
While I was adding another role to our list of job vacancies that needed filling, Amory came in carrying two cups of cocoa. “Can’t sleep?” I asked, noting it was almost midnight.
She shook her head, handing me a mug. “We haven’t had two seconds to talk lately and I’m bursting with news. We rented the cottage! Oh, it’s the loveliest place just outside of Evergreen. It’s tiny but cozy, and I’m so looking forward to decorating it.”
“That’s great news, Amory! I’ll miss you, even though I spend my life taking your empty coffee cups back into the kitchen,” I said, just as Scotty came barreling in looking for hugs. I’d miss him too, with his boundless energy and soft cuddles.
“Oh, darling, that won’t change. I’ll still leave them scattered about during the day, so it will give you something to do at night.”
“You’re a true friend.” I laughed and filled Amory in on dinner with Mom, and the latest bunch of emails and what was left to do for the party.
“Amazing, Clio! I’ve got a feeling things are going to be hectic over the summer.” She gave me a smile. “Oh, that reminds me. Tim called while you were out, and wants you to call him back.”
I blew out a breath. “What now?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, he didn’t say why, but the whole time we were looking at cottages all he did was talk about you.”
“What did he say?”
She sipped her cocoa. “Well, it was like a celebrity tour of town. This is where Clio and I used to buy tapes. This is where we kissed in the rain. This is where I asked her to the prom. It was sweet and all, but methinks the boy has not moved on.”
I grimaced. “That’s a little awkward. He is so lovely, seriously, but I just don’t feel that connection. And I wonder whether he really does either, or whether he’s just remembering a time in our lives when things were simpler, you know? Like slipping into your oldest, most comfortable jeans…”
The old lodge creaked and groaned like it was agreeing with me. “Yeah, and first love does leave a sort of fingerprint on your heart.”
I raised a brow. “Wow, Amory, how poetic of you… she of the steely-heart, non-soppy love club.”
“The what club?” she laughed, and shook her head. “Anyway, did I see Kai wander downstairs from your suite?”
I scoffed. “As if you’d have seen anything; you would have been in the land of Zeds. Got spies have you?”
“Of course! Cruz told me. So you admit it? What the hell is going on, darling? Some best friend you are, who keeps all the good stuff under lock and key!”
I shrugged. “We just had one of those long, deep and meaningful conversations, putting the world to rights, that kind of thing, and then we fell asleep. It was nice.”
She stared me down. “Nice? Just nice, darling?”
“Nice.”
“Nice is a lie-in after too much champagne, nice is breakfast in bed, nice is…”
I clucked my tongue. “I get it! OK, OK, it was amazing. Totally amazing.