“That hat would look perfect on you, Cassie.”
Cass turned, a grin on her face. “Faye,” she said, embracing the older woman, reveling for a moment in her familiar, powdery smell. Hugging Faye felt the same as hugging her own grandma, years before—and it was so very comforting. “It’s so good to see you.”
Faye smiled back, her expression quizzical—but maybe also a bit knowing. “You’re acting like we didn’t just see each other the other day,” she said.
“Right. Well—it’s Christmas. I’m really feeling the spirit.” She shrugged and put the hat she had been holding back on the rack. “Anyway, I’m not shopping for myself. I’m trying to find something for Charlie.”
“You won’t find anything for her in here.”
“You’re right.” Cass sighed. “Hey, do you have time to grab a coffee?” It was the memory of her grandmother that had given her the idea. She always used to ask her grandmother for help and advice, and in recent years Faye had become a trusted grandmotherly figure in Cass’s life. They walked out of the store together.
“I always have time for you. But don’t you need to get back to the bakery? This is normally such a busy time of year for you,” Faye said. “Also, rumor has it something is wrong with the Woodburn starter. Are you sure you have time for a coffee?”
“Walter has things under control, and Charlie’s back, actually, so I’m sure she’ll be in to help out soon if she isn’t already,” Cass replied, then she chuckled. “News really does travel fast around this town, doesn’t it? I’ve missed that. Er, I mean—that problem with the starter has been solved. Sharon Marston is donating some of her brand-new starter to the cause.”
“Well, good for you, Cassie. Killing two birds with one stone there. Making Sharon feel a part of things, which is all she really wanted.”
“I could really use a coffee and a few minutes to catch my breath,” Cass said, smiling at her friend. “Let’s go to Blanche’s café, okay?”
It was in the opposite direction from the bakery, and once they were far enough away, Cass felt a bit of relief. They chose a corner table at the back, far away from the door, which released a puff of cold, snowy air into the little café every time it opened.
“It’s going to be a doozy, this storm,” Faye said, taking off her mittens and rubbing her hands together. Her bright blue eyes, which belied her advanced age, were twinkling. “I just love a good storm, don’t you? As long as I’m safe inside.”
“Me, too,” Cass said. “We haven’t had a good one in a while.”
“Just as long as the power doesn’t go out. But, of course, my always-prepared grandson has already thought of that and bought a little generator for our basement.”
“Right. Jake.”
“Indeed. Jake. You’ve been seeing a lot of him lately.”
“Have I? Right. Yes. I have.” They had their coffees now, and Cass wrapped her hands around the warm mug and watched the steam rise from the cup. She couldn’t do this—she could not lie to Faye. “I have to tell you something,” Cass began. To her surprise, Faye started to laugh.
“Well, finally, one of you is going to come clean about this switcheroo you think you’ve been fooling everyone with.”
Cass looked around, worried that someone could overhear—but the café was mostly empty, and the Christmas carols were turned up loud.
“You mean . . . We haven’t been fooling everyone?”
“Well, perhaps you’ve been fooling most people. But not me. I’ve been around far too long. And I’d like to think I know you too well at this point, Cassie. Know, for example, that you are great friends with my Jake—but there is nothing, absolutely nothing, romantic between you. Don’t think I haven’t wished for it, since Jake came back to town. I think you’re an absolutely wonderful girl and would make a perfect granddaughter-in-law. But alas, I always knew it was not to be, that Jake wasn’t your type and you weren’t his, that you were only ever destined to be friends.” Faye took a sip from her mug. “When that all changed—and it changed fast—and the sparks started to fly between you two, I knew something was up.”
“You’ve known this whole time? Have you . . . told anyone?”
“Of course not. I’m not an old gossip. This is not my story to tell. And I certainly haven’t told Jake. These things need to run their course, don’t they?”