The Cottage on Juniper Ridge. Sheila Roberts
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candles and this job.
And the financial burden of the condo. The stupid thing hadn’t sold yet and she’d wanted to move the first Saturday in January. Now she was beginning to worry that she wouldn’t get to move at all, which was really depressing because she was so ready to escape the hectic life she’d created in Seattle. She was so tired of working two jobs, especially these two.
Ever since the office Christmas party, going to work had been far from fun. People were still grumbling over the fact that there hadn’t been enough food. (As if that was her fault? She’d only had so much money to work with.) Leon Eggers, her supervisor’s boss, had made a pass at her at that ill-fated party and she’d told him to go soak his head in the punch bowl. After that, she’d somehow found herself with more work in her in-box. Nothing she could prove, but she knew.
And the candle parties...ugh. It seemed to be getting increasingly harder to convince women they wanted to make time to host a party. Yes, the candles were shipped to them and they had to distribute them to their friends. But so what? They got all kinds of free merchandise as a reward. Of course, the more everyone bought, the more the hostess got. And the more Jen made. Sadly, no one had purchased much at the last party. Hopefully, the smiling woman at today’s event would buy a lot and encourage her friends to do the same.
Now another woman had entered the room. “All right,” Alma said to Jen, “that’s everyone.”
Five women. Not exactly a huge group. But that didn’t mean anything, Jen told herself. All it took was one or two women to go on a spending spree and Alma could earn her holiday centerpiece. And Jen could earn some money.
“Okay,” Jen said in her perky candle-lady voice. “Thank you all for coming today. I know you’ll be happy you did when you see the wonderful bargains I have for you. Soft Glow candles are the finest on the market, guaranteed to bring beauty and light to your home. Today, just for hosting a Soft Glow party, Alma will receive this lovely multipack of pillar candles as a thank-you.” She picked up the set of red candles and the women oohed and ahhed and nodded their heads. She had them now!
Jen went on with her spiel, talking up various candles, candleholders, centerpieces and hurricane lamps. “And, as I said earlier, all our holiday candles are fifty percent off today.”
“Seventy-five percent,” Alma reminded her.
“Seventy-five percent. So, feel free to come up and browse.”
“Aren’t we going to have a draw?” Alma asked.
She held a drawing for a free candle at every party. Between the flat tire and Alma’s irritation, she’d forgotten all about it. Alma hadn’t. “Let’s do that right now,” Jen said, pretending she’d been about to get to it.
One of the lemon-suckers won a set of taper candles. “You’re sure these are dripless?” she asked Jen.
“Absolutely. I use those all the time.”
The woman nodded, but still seemed unconvinced. “I bought some once that were supposed to be dripless. They ruined my silver candlesticks.”
“These won’t, I promise,” Jen said.
“Well, I hope they don’t.” The woman’s tone of voice promised big trouble for Jen if they did.
Now it was time to order. The women looked at the candles. They visited. They looked some more. They ate more cookies. Then the smiling lady announced she had to get going. She had her bridge club at two.
She took her leave and left her empty order form behind.
One of the lemon-suckers purchased a set of holiday votives. For seventy-five percent off. Big spender. “Would you like to host a party?” Jen asked.
“Heavens, no. I have all the candles I need.”
At seventy-five percent off. Jen forced the smile to remain on her face. That’s sales, she reminded herself. Sometimes you did well, sometimes you didn’t. Anyway, the woman probably didn’t have a lot of money.
“Well, dear,” the broke lemon-sucker said to Alma, “I’ve got to go home and finish packing for my cruise.”
The second lemon-sucker purchased a set of tea lights and called it quits. “I’d have bought more,” she informed Jen, “but your candles are overpriced.”
“They’re very high quality,” Jen said. Why was she bothering?
“Well,” the woman huffed, “some of us are on a budget.”
“I understand,” Jen said. And that was why she was working two jobs and trying to sell her condo. Toni had been right. She shouldn’t have made a snap decision, shouldn’t have wasted money on a deposit on that cottage in Icicle Falls. What had she been thinking?
She’d been thinking of Garrett Armstrong. And home-canned goodies. And eating home-canned goodies with Garrett Armstrong. She’d been thinking of getting away and simplifying her life. Sadly, that was turning out not to be so simple.
“It was a lovely party, dear,” the last of Alma’s guests said to her, and slipped out the door without buying anything.
Alma turned to Jen. “Well, that was nice, wasn’t it? What did I earn?”
“You earned this lovely multipack of pillar candles as a thank-you gift,” Jen said.
Alma’s smile drooped. “Is that all?”
“Well, you do have to have a certain amount in sales to earn—”
“I spent all day yesterday cleaning,” Alma said miserably. “And I had to go to the store and get those cookies with my hip bothering me.”
“How about I throw in the holiday centerpiece?” Jen offered.
Alma’s smile perked right up.
Jen’s drooped.
She packed up her candles, thanked Alma for hosting the party and thanked God she was done with candle parties for the season.
Make that forever. Alma Tuttle’s nonparty was the last straw. She’d keep some of the candles for herself and sell the rest on eBay. Much as she loved the product, her heart wasn’t in this anymore.
Her heart wasn’t in Seattle anymore, either, even though it was a great city. What she wanted was life in a small town...a charming mountain town.
She loaded up her wares and drove back to the condo. Home, sweet home. She’d been so in love with this place when she first bought it, so intent on forgetting her unhappy starter marriage to Serge and carving out a new life for herself.
She’d gotten a new life. It just happened to stink.
There was no sense wasting what was left of a perfectly good Saturday afternoon moping. She’d find something simple to do, some small pleasure to give her life sweetness, the way Muriel Sterling recommended in her book. It was almost Christmas. She’d bake cookies. Gingerbread boys like the ones she’d enjoyed in that cute bakery in Icicle Falls. She could give them to Toni’s kids for Christmas. A nice simple present...to go with the more expensive ones she’d bought with her overworked credit card.
She found a recipe online and got busy assembling butter, flour, eggs, sugar and spices. These were going to be delicious. Yes, there was nothing like spending a little time in the kitchen making old-fashioned goodies to lift a woman’s spirits. Simple pleasures really were the best.
She was sliding a batch of cookies in the oven when her cell phone rang. Caller ID told her it was her Realtor, Hannah Yates. Hannah had shown the condo the other night, but Jen had given up hope when she didn’t hear back that same evening. Maybe the person had decided to buy, after all.
Jen let the oven door slam shut, grabbed the phone and said a hopeful “Hello.”
“Hi, Jen, it’s Hannah.”
“Yes?” Jen said eagerly.