Page 20 of Meet Me on Mistletoe Lane

“You already have clippings and photos posted all around your diner.” And over every booth and on the bar and even in the bathrooms. “I think you’re good.”

God love the man, but I didn’t think people came to his diner to relive his adventures.

“Brilliant! I’m on it!” He hurried away, almost slipping on a small patch of ice before turning around with a “Thank you!”

Hal waved from his front window display, which had had a serious glow-up since earlier in the week. Normally, he’d build some kind of Christmas tree made of tools and gadgets, but this year he added a sleigh trimmed in twinkle lights and stuffed with discounted items.

Ann from the Between the Pages Bookstore had also tweaked her typical book-tree window display by adding a family of book-snowmen with their pages facing out. She tipped one of their top hats as I parked outside of Eve’s Drop and then stepped around another small patch of ice.

I need to text Jo about salting that.

The bell rang when I pushed open the door, revealing a frantic Eve hurrying around with a cloth and spray bottle.

“Oh! You’re here!” She stopped and propped herself against the counter. “Thank God.”

“I need your help” in three…two…

“I need your help, G.” She tossed me the rag and pointed toward the front three tables. “Could you get those for me? I have to check the scones…” She patted her apron pockets as if the scones would be there instead of the oven.

“Actually, I’m here for Aunt Sof—”

“Be right back!” Eve disappeared into the kitchen, the door flapping back and forth twice before going still.

I checked the time. Jo should’ve been here by now to work her shift. Maybe she got stopped on the way in, too?

Oh well. I had a few minutes to spare for Eve before my aunt’s nerves got the best of her.

I picked up the spray bottle from the counter and went to work on the last few tables, moving the tiny snowmen and tea lights to the chairs so I could wipe the entire surface.

But then Eve cursed from the kitchen and stormed back into the café. “I burned them!” She ripped off her apron and threw it. “I never burn my scones! Oh God, do you think it’s an omen? It must be an omen. I’ll go grab some sage from Ann. She’s always good for sage.”

“Whoa, hold on.” I grabbed Eve’s arm as she tried to rush past me. “It’s not an omen, Eve. You’re just stressed out. Lots of people mess up when they’re stressed.”

Eve groaned and sank into a nearby chair, putting her head in her hands.

“But you’re not like most people.” I sat down opposite her and laid my hand on her knee to give her the same pep talk I usually did when she had a meltdown like this. “You’re Eve freakin’ Edwards.”

She lifted her head and sniffed.

“And you are a boss in that kitchen,” I added.

“I am?” she asked.

I nodded. “So, I want you to go back in there, tell that oven who’s boss, and make another batch of scones.” I moved my hand to her shoulder. “But first, I need you to bring me Aunt Sofia’s order, or she may kill me.”

Eve laughed and wiped her eyes. “You got it, kiddo.”

She picked up her apron and stomped her way back into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a box that smelled like raspberries, chocolate, and brown butter. “All nut-free too, honey, in case you wanted to sneak one before handing them off.” Eve winked.

“You’re the best!” I took the box and turned to leave. Sam had said change was a bad thing, but not all change was bad. After my first anaphylactic reaction to nuts over a decade ago, Eve and Phineas did some homework and realized several families in town also had nut and other major food allergies. Within a couple of months, the kitchens at the diner and café soon had dedicated work-spaces and equipment that were allergy-safe. How many chain-store bakeries and diners would also do the same?

My phone buzzed in my pocket just as I stepped through Eve’s door.

Probably Aunt Sofia wondering if I fell in a manhole, or Nico wondering when I’d swing by the florist.

I carefully balanced the box of treats in one hand and tried to reach into my side pocket. My phone wouldn’t budge.

Come on you piece of…