Page 52 of Postmarked December

She’d hang onto him one more day. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” That tiny prick of fear that had plagued her in his final days returned—the imminent goodbye. “He always had all the answers,” she said, her voice breaking.

Marion offered an empathetic smile. “So do you. You just got used to leaning on Toby for them. But when it comes down to it, you’re pretty good at finding the answers you need.”

Heather gave Marion a hug and breathed in her sweet perfume, knowing she was right, but having a hard time accepting it, nonetheless. While the rest of her life wasn’t quite so scary anymore, the memories were still raw.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Iwas wondering, what do you think about staying another night?” Heather asked the next morning, as she sat across from Marion at the table with a cinnamon roll from a batch they’d baked to hold them over until later, when they could have a big breakfast.

Since last night, Heather had been wrestling with the idea of going back to the real world, and it would be easy to extend her stay. After all, she owned the place. “I don’t really have anything to come home to.” Heather wrapped her hands around her coffee mug to warm them.

“We could stay… Anthony’s off work until after New Year’s, and he mentioned how great it would be to spend a couple days here. And after Christmas, I’ll bet there’s no line for the carriage rides in town.” Marion picked up her phone and pulled up the community’s website. “Anthony’s truck has four-wheel drive. He could take us. And if he doesn’t want to go, I’m sure he’d be delighted to stay in with Scarlett and watch football all day while we spend the afternoon shopping.”

“What am I doing?” he asked, coming into the kitchen holding Scarlett.

“Either shopping with us or driving us into town and hanging with Scarlett at the cabin until we need you. And we’re staying another night.” Marion flashed a wide smile.

“Another night in this place is going to be tough,” he said sarcastically as the tree glimmered behind him. “I’d need to have some sort of compensation.” He bent over the tray of hot rolls. “Mm. You can pay me in these.”

“Easy.” Heather got up, plated a couple of the sticky rolls, and set them on the counter.

Anthony passed the cat to Marion and washed his hands.

“There’s milk in the fridge if you want some, or we have coffee,” she said. “The glasses and mugs are to the right of the sink.”

“Aren’t we sweet, making treats and having coffee brewed as soon as your feet hit the floor?” Marion asked in a syrupy voice. “With that kind of service, I’d think you might throw in a souvenir option. Maybe later you and I could pick out some of those mineral bath salts that were in Heather’s stocking. I’ve found the store that has them.”

Anthony playfully shook his head. “Sure.”

Marion brightened and leaned over to Heather, pretending to keep her whisper from Anthony. “He’s a different person here. He never commits to beauty products.”

He squinted at her. “Then I’ll need a few gingerbread cookies later.”

“Done! Heather, don’t eat any more gingerbread cookies. We need them for leverage.”

“If we run out of them, we can always make more. I’ve got enough ingredients,” Heather said, egging them on, overjoyed to see them playful and happy together.

“Oooh.” Marion took the bait. “Think how many bath salts I could buy with a whole batch!” She turned her phone around so Heather could view the website. “Let’s make another cup of coffee and map out our plan for the day. Man the kitty.” She passed Scarlett to Anthony over the table.

“I’ll make us another pot,” Heather said.

“I’m willing to bet that you two can absolutely handle the task of mapping out shopping, but I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Anthony shifted Scarlett, pinning her between his body and forearm, put one of the cinnamon rolls between his teeth, and carried his plate, coffee, and cat into the other room. A minute or so later, the sound of sports announcers filtered into the kitchen.

Heather got up and poured them each a mug of coffee, then found a pad of paper and a pen in the drawer.

“Okay,” Marion said, as Heather set a mug in front of her. “If we go out this afternoon, we can catch a carriage ride through town at two. That will take us past the bookshop.” She scribbled the words “carriage,” then “bookshop” on the pad of paper. “Anthony,” she called. “Want to take a carriage ride at two?”

“Sure,” he said over his shoulder.

“Okay.” She turned to Heather. “Then, if it’s not too cold, we could walk around town, maybe see the art gallery and the chapel, and then shop for a bit until four.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“And then, if we can still feel our toes, the sun should be setting around four thirty, and we could take a hayride through the side roads for the Christmas-tree tour. Think you’re up for it?”

Heather picked up her mug, excitement building. “I’m totally up for it. We can loaf around this morning, make a big breakfast, and then head out.”

The day was shaping up to be an incredible one.