Chapter Two

      Giving is one of the joys of the season. Be enthusiastic whether you’re on the giving or the receiving end of the gift.

      —Muriel Sterling, A Guide to Happy Holidays

      Muriel Sterling-Wittman often met her old friend Arnie Amundsen for breakfast at Pancake Haus. If Olivia and James Claussen weren’t busy, they’d usually join them. Dot Morrison, the owner of the restaurant, frequently sat in on the conversation for a while, too.

      A flood of tourists was in town for the long holiday weekend and the snow, and the restaurant was packed this Saturday morning with people enjoying German waffles, pancakes and eggs. The smell of coffee and sugary treats greeted Muriel as she stepped inside. Voices and laughter came at her from all sides, telling her this was, indeed, the place to be.

      “He’s back there,” Dot said with a nod toward a back booth as she hurried past Muriel to pour coffee for a table of young women.

      Yes, Muriel could see him. All by himself, he stood out in the mob of families and couples.

      She’d known Arnie most of her life and he hadn’t changed much since high school. He was still as thin as he’d been back then and still wearing the same style of glasses. About the only change was a few more wrinkles and a heavy salting of gray in what was left of his once-sandy-colored hair.

      Of course, Muriel’s hair was now heavily salted as well, but she wasn’t letting anyone know that. Thank heaven for her stylist at Sleeping Lady Salon.

      He’d been watching for her and waved discreetly when they made eye contact. Her late husband would have stood and called her over, but that had been Waldo, larger-than-life. Arnie was...well, Arnie. Quiet, soft-spoken, unremarkable. But solid, steady and sweet.

      And a terrible dresser. She took in the Christmas-red sweater he was wearing over his shirt and the red bow tie. She’d bought him neckties for Christmas the last few years as a subtle hint and he’d worn them to please her, but in the end, he always reverted to his bow tie addiction. The red sweater didn’t do much for him, either. He’d look so much better in blue. It would show off his blue eyes. Maybe she’d give him a blue sweater for Christmas this year.

      He greeted her with a smile as she slid into the booth, seating herself opposite him, and informed her that he’d taken the liberty of ordering her usual cheese-and-mushroom omelet.

      “No James and Olivia today, I figured,” he said as he took a sip of his coffee.

      “You’re right. She’s busy at the lodge. How was your Thanksgiving?”

      “All right,” he said with a shrug. “At my sister’s again this year.”

      Sometimes Muriel felt downright guilty about Arnie’s lackluster life. He’d loved her since they were teenagers. Sadly, she just hadn’t felt the same about him. Other men had come along to steal her heart. Still, Arnie had remained her steadfast friend, seeing her through the loss of two husbands. Arnie was a dear.

      “How was the gathering of the Sterling clan?” he asked.

      “Chaotic, noisy as always.”

      “In other words, a good time was had by all.”

      “Yes, that sums it up,” she said with a smile.

      Dot appeared with her coffee carafe. “I hope you two aren’t in a hurry today,” she said as she filled Muriel’s mug. “As you can see, we’re slammed.”

      “That’s okay, we’re not in a hurry,” Muriel assured her. “Unless... Arnie?”

      “I can stay as long as you want me to,” he said.

      What a sweetie. It was a shame to see such a nice man single.

      “Good,” Dot said and hurried off.

      They filled in the time with small talk as they waited for their orders. Arnie wanted to know how Muriel’s book signing had gone. “Sorry I missed it,” he added.

      “You’ve attended more than your share of signings,” she said.

      “Yeah, but I like to support you.”

      “You’re the most supportive friend I have,” she told him, and it made him beam with pleasure.

      Talk turned to plans for the holidays. “I’ve booked a cruise,” he announced.

      “Really? Where are you going?”

      “To Germany.”

      “Germany, how lovely.”

      She’d always dreamed of going there. That had yet to happen. With her first husband, Stephen, she’d been busy raising a family, keeping things together on the home front while he ran the family chocolate business. She and her second husband had talked about taking a trip but then Waldo had been diagnosed with Lewy body dementia, and that had been that. She couldn’t help feeling a little wistful. She would’ve loved to have seen some of those German towns after which Icicle Falls had been modeled.

      “It’s a river cruise and we’ll be stopping at all the famous Christmas markets—Nuremberg, Bamberg, Heidelberg.”

      Heidelberg. She’d always wanted to see the castle ruins.

      He pulled out the brochure with its glossy pictures of outdoor markets, smiling couples leaning on the railing of the river barge, lit-up cities. It all looked so romantic.

      “Joe, from the Yakima branch of Cascade Mutual, invited me. He had a group from the bank going and a couple of them had to cancel at the last minute. I was able to book their staterooms.”

      “How fun! Good for you,” Muriel said, impressed. Arnie was rarely spontaneous and always careful with his money. It was nice to see him taking a step toward living large.

      “Actually, I’d like you to go with me. You’d be back in time for Christmas with the family,” he hurried to add.

      “With you?” she repeated. Like a couple? But they weren’t a couple. They were simply friends. Good friends, dear friends. But that was all. She’d never thought of Arnie as anything else. Besides, at this point in her life, after being widowed twice, she had no intention of starting anything with anyone. “Oh, Arnie, I couldn’t.”

      His smile flipped upside down.

      “It’s a lot of money,” she explained, trying to soften the blow of her refusal.

      “Muriel, you don’t think I’d ask you and then expect you to pay,” he said, shocked.

      She couldn’t let him spend that kind of money on her even though she knew he had it to spend. “It’s sweet of you, but...I can’t.” She’d feel like she was using him. He’d get his hopes up. It would get awkward.

      Dot had returned with more coffee to tide them over as they waited for their food. “Can’t what?”