In Love By Christmas. Cari Lynn Webb
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“Now’s your opportunity.”
Josie tucked the designs back into her book and smiled at a tall woman, carrying several large shopping bags and a wide grin. Theo completed the introductions and pulled out a chair for his sister.
“Sorry. I was early so I went to the store. Then I got caught up redesigning several of the holiday tables with the staff and now I’m late.” Adriana’s sigh didn’t deflate her enthusiasm. Shopping bags settled on the empty chair beside her, she pulled out her cell phone, tapped the screen and handed the phone to Josie. “I think the displays turned out quite beautiful.”
Josie enlarged a photograph of a rectangular dining-room table, exquisitely set for eight. The natural table runner was stamped with metallic snowflakes and pinecones paired with the royal blue cloth napkins folded inside silver holly-leaf napkin holders. Polished silverware rested on round burlap place mats. Satin chair covers turned ordinary seats into invitations to linger through a five-course meal. Mimi would’ve adored the dancing holiday images scrolled on the plates. The dinnerware would have blended perfectly with Mimi’s collection of whimsical holiday pillows.
Mimi’s house hadn’t been large enough for a formal dining room. The dinner table had been converted to a sewing station long before Josie had moved in. Yet Josie had never lived in a house more welcoming than Mimi’s unconventional, pillbox-size cottage.
Adriana smiled at Josie. “I’d be happy to help design your holiday table, too.”
“No, thank you. The display is lovely though.” But not for people who lived in tiny studio apartments, surrounded by more fabric and thread than collectibles. That table belonged in her ex’s house. Or the Taylors’. Josie handed Adriana’s phone to her. “I’m more of a paper-plate-on-a-TV-tray person.”
“Everything we sell is dishwasher-and microwave-safe.” Adriana picked up the café menu. “Pretty and functional.”
Adriana would require a wedding gown much the same. A beautiful, detailed dress that also allowed her to move among what was certain to be a rather extensive guest list. Strapless or sleeves? Illusion or cap? Strapless allowed for easier movement on the dance floor. Although formal dancing—as in ballroom—expected conservative cuts. The gown had to be effortless, like Adriana.
“Perhaps we should focus on your upcoming marriage.” Theo clenched his hands together on top of his menu. “And your wedding dress, not holiday tables.”
“You’re sounding quite dramatic,” Adriana cautioned.
Theo stilled beside Josie.
Theo and drama were not two words Josie would put together. The Coast to Coast Living brand was accessible to everyone—it was stylish, affordable and obtainable. But there was something remote and stand-offish about Theo now. Something that made him about as inaccessible as if he’d climbed up a tower on the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Weddings cause too much drama.” Disinterest and boredom diluted Theo’s voice.
Or perhaps that was stress he wanted to disguise.
There’d been nothing dramatic or stressful about Josie’s wedding. She’d been married at the courthouse: no veil and a white utilitarian dress. There’d been nothing messy about her divorce, either. The prenup she’d signed to prove she’d loved her ex more than his bank account had turned the end of her four-year marriage into a cold business transaction. She’d walked away, determined to prove she was good enough despite her ex’s claims and the constant echo of the sharp childhood taunts about the poor foster kid she’d once been.
Adriana greeted the waitress. Josie ordered the spinach salad with chicken, despite the knots in her stomach.
Josie had to meet Theo’s exacting standards, whatever those were. She had to succeed not only for herself, but also for Mia and her clients, like Shanna Jennings, who were depending on Josie for their dream wedding gowns. A pinch squeezed along her spine, straining against her shoulders.
The waitress collected the menus and disappeared.
Adriana launched back into the conversation. “You know what you need, Theo? You need to have more fun.”
Theo squeezed a lemon into his ice glass as if watering down his sour tone. “I have enough fun already.”
“Ryan and I are meeting several couples at The Shouting Fiddle later for trivia night.” Adriana ignored her brother’s comment. “You should join us. And you too, Josie.”
Josie envied Adriana’s consideration—they’d only just met. The woman most likely gathered new friends around her like a master gardener filled a greenhouse with special early blooms. And here Josie rarely ventured much beyond her wallflower position.
Josie needed to concentrate on her work. Although, Adriana’s offer tempted. But that was Josie’s former self that still yearned to fit in. To sit at the lunchroom table surrounded by the other girls and not because the teacher had forced the kids to be polite and let Josie sit with them. Josie had only wanted to be part of their inside jokes and weekend stories. To be included.
Adriana wanted to include her now. Yet all Josie heard was the keen bite of her foster sister’s snub: Josie, you wouldn’t want to go to the party, anyway—you don’t even know anyone. What would you do? Stand against the wall all night? You’ll have more fun doodling in your sketch pad.
Josie had graduated from doodles to proper drawings. Now she only wanted her gowns to belong in the design world. Winning over Adriana and Theo was the first step.
Josie stretched her neck, kneading the too-tight muscles and the sting of the past that still pained. “Thank you, but I have appointments this evening.”
“That’s a rather long workday,” Adriana said.
“I like to be available for my working clients,” Josie said. “Their budgets are often tight, even for the brides that have chosen to upscale a vintage gown. I hate to be the reason they have to miss work when every dollar matters.”
Josie helped women like Shanna Jennings—survivors that had earned a second chance and deserved the opportunity to live their dreams. One of her clients often reminded Josie that dreams came true on their own schedule. But to make her clients’ dreams happen, Josie often altered her schedule to accommodate them.
Adriana glanced at Theo. “I’m letting Josie off the hook tonight, but not you.”
“Can I take a rain check?” Theo leaned toward Josie, as if pleased he wasn’t the only one refusing the offer of fun.
“I’ve given you enough rain checks to fill your social calendar every night for over a month, Theo.” Adriana eyed her brother, her voice pensive. “It’s not good to spend so much time alone.”
“Alone has its advantages,” Josie said. She’d grown up alone. She’d earned expert status on how to be alone by the second grade.
“See. I’m not alone.” Satisfaction edged into Theo’s voice. He tipped his water glass toward Josie and grinned. “Josie agrees with me.”
“Perhaps,” Adriana allowed. “But spending time with friends offers its own rewards.”
Growing up, Josie had put herself out there for friends. Many times. The results—those had always been the same. This table is taken. Our study group is full. There’s no room in the car, maybe you can come next time. Eventually, Josie had sought refuge among the books in the library and counted the days until she’d step out of the foster system and into her own life.
But this wasn’t the moment to let old wishes interfere. The only old that signified: antique sequined lace. Besides, alone was what Josie knew best. Time to focus on the bride. “How did you and Ryan meet?”
“Through friends of friends.” Adriana smoothed her napkin across her lap. “Although it was slightly more complicated. There were missed opportunities to meet. Schedule conflicts. Blind dates, but not