budget.” She glanced at Ainsley. “And I am some crazy woman who doesn’t know how to live on a budget. I’ve never lived by a budget my whole life, Ainsley. I don’t know how!”
Ainsley squeezed her hand, not sure what to say, except, “Melb, I do know your best bet is to be honest with Oliver.”
“I don’t know,” Melb sighed, swiping at her tears. “Besides that, I have to lose four dress sizes by Valentine’s Day. Maybe I’m overly emotional because I’ve been depriving myself of sugar lately.”
“Listen, everything is going to be okay. I know planning a wedding is stressful—”
“You’re not stressed out.”
“That’s not true. I have a lot to do before the big day.”
“Your wedding is going to be perfect.”
“So is
yours,”
Ainsley said, squaring Melb’s shoulders directly to her. “Melb, you are marrying the most awesome guy in the world!”
A small smile erased Melb’s panic-stricken features. “I know.” The smile wilted. “I don’t know if I can live up to him.”
“He’s just as lucky to have you. You are caring, tender, passionate. The guy is crazy about you, Melb. Don’t forget that.”
“Okay.” She stood, but instead of heading to the front door, she went to the kitchen. Luckily, Sheriff Parker had disappeared upstairs to get dressed. “I smell some sort of pastry with cream cheese.”
Ainsley pointed to the oven. “Breakfast.”
“I’d love some. But just a small serving.”
Martin Blarty awoke to the feeling of being attacked by birds. He screamed and flailed his arms until he realized it wasn’t birds, just massive amounts of paper on top of him. He’d fallen asleep the night before, doing research about the town while listening to an owl hooting outside his window. That made for a terrifying dream this morning, and now a mess of papers in a pile next to the couch.
Martin’s back ached, and his eyes were practically glued shut, but he rose anyway. It was Christmas morning, and he always spent it with Mayor Wullisworth. This year Oliver and Melb would join them too. Just the thought of spending Christmas with his closest friends caused the sleepiness to fade. After a quick shower, Martin dressed, even put cologne on, and then went to the living room to gather presents for everyone.
The vase in the corner will do nicely for Melb,
he thought, and took it, packaging it carefully with bubble wrap before putting it in a box and wrapping it up. For Oliver, he decided on the nice Oriental print of a large fish his great Aunt June had given him three birthdays ago. Oliveralways said he wanted to travel the world. For the mayor, he decided on a biography of Rudolph Giuliani. Martin had read it three times and figured it might inspire the mayor that he could be a good leader through tough times.
There. Christmas shopping done. He hated waiting until the last minute, but it had been a busy winter.
Then he went to the refrigerator to get his green bean casserole. He knew the mayor would be fixing his world-famous fried turkey, which everyone always anticipated. This was Martins first year to do green beans. Usually he brought the rolls. But Oliver said Melb was fond of bread, so Martin decided to be generous and let Melb be in charge of that.
Surprisingly, the green bean casserole was not hard to make. The recipe on the side of the green bean can said to add some sort of cream-of soup. At the store, he’d decided on clam chowder. That was his favorite soup anyhow, and who in the world would like cream of celery? Those green stringy stalks were hard enough to eat with peanut butter. The recipe had also called for fried onions on the top, so he was fairly sure he could get away with onion rings from Big Bess’s Burger Joint. He’d laid them on top in a very precise way, a pattern resembling the Olympic rings.
After putting everything in his car, he drove over to the mayor’s house, humming along to gleeful Christmas tunes on the radio. On his way over,
Ainsley squeezed her hand, not sure what to say, except, “Melb, I do know your best bet is to be honest with Oliver.”
“I don’t know,” Melb sighed, swiping at her tears. “Besides that, I have to lose four dress sizes by Valentine’s Day. Maybe I’m overly emotional because I’ve been depriving myself of sugar lately.”
“Listen, everything is going to be okay. I know planning a wedding is stressful—”
“You’re not stressed out.”
“That’s not true. I have a lot to do before the big day.”
“Your wedding is going to be perfect.”
“So is
yours,”
Ainsley said, squaring Melb’s shoulders directly to her. “Melb, you are marrying the most awesome guy in the world!”
A small smile erased Melb’s panic-stricken features. “I know.” The smile wilted. “I don’t know if I can live up to him.”
“He’s just as lucky to have you. You are caring, tender, passionate. The guy is crazy about you, Melb. Don’t forget that.”
“Okay.” She stood, but instead of heading to the front door, she went to the kitchen. Luckily, Sheriff Parker had disappeared upstairs to get dressed. “I smell some sort of pastry with cream cheese.”
Ainsley pointed to the oven. “Breakfast.”
“I’d love some. But just a small serving.”
Martin Blarty awoke to the feeling of being attacked by birds. He screamed and flailed his arms until he realized it wasn’t birds, just massive amounts of paper on top of him. He’d fallen asleep the night before, doing research about the town while listening to an owl hooting outside his window. That made for a terrifying dream this morning, and now a mess of papers in a pile next to the couch.
Martin’s back ached, and his eyes were practically glued shut, but he rose anyway. It was Christmas morning, and he always spent it with Mayor Wullisworth. This year Oliver and Melb would join them too. Just the thought of spending Christmas with his closest friends caused the sleepiness to fade. After a quick shower, Martin dressed, even put cologne on, and then went to the living room to gather presents for everyone.
The vase in the corner will do nicely for Melb,
he thought, and took it, packaging it carefully with bubble wrap before putting it in a box and wrapping it up. For Oliver, he decided on the nice Oriental print of a large fish his great Aunt June had given him three birthdays ago. Oliveralways said he wanted to travel the world. For the mayor, he decided on a biography of Rudolph Giuliani. Martin had read it three times and figured it might inspire the mayor that he could be a good leader through tough times.
There. Christmas shopping done. He hated waiting until the last minute, but it had been a busy winter.
Then he went to the refrigerator to get his green bean casserole. He knew the mayor would be fixing his world-famous fried turkey, which everyone always anticipated. This was Martins first year to do green beans. Usually he brought the rolls. But Oliver said Melb was fond of bread, so Martin decided to be generous and let Melb be in charge of that.
Surprisingly, the green bean casserole was not hard to make. The recipe on the side of the green bean can said to add some sort of cream-of soup. At the store, he’d decided on clam chowder. That was his favorite soup anyhow, and who in the world would like cream of celery? Those green stringy stalks were hard enough to eat with peanut butter. The recipe had also called for fried onions on the top, so he was fairly sure he could get away with onion rings from Big Bess’s Burger Joint. He’d laid them on top in a very precise way, a pattern resembling the Olympic rings.
After putting everything in his car, he drove over to the mayor’s house, humming along to gleeful Christmas tunes on the radio. On his way over,
Similar Books
