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“Absolutely,” Vanessa assured him. “We’ll enjoy our pie and take a minute before we get back to work, I promise.”
He chuckled and stood, squeezing her shoulder once more before heading back to the kitchen. Vanessa watched him go, that warm feeling spreading through her chest again—the one that showed up whenever she looked at him.
“There’s that look again,” Mabel said knowingly, digging into her chocolate cream pie.
Vanessa didn’t bother denying it this time. She took a bite of her own pie, savoring the perfect combination of sweet apples, buttery crust, and cinnamon. The ice cream was melting into the warm filling, creating little pools of vanilla that mixed with the spices. It was simple and absolutely delicious, everything she’d come to love about this place.
“He worries, you know,” she said after a moment, setting down her fork. “Jackson. He worries that he took me away from my life in the city unwillingly. That I gave up too much to be here.”
Mabel paused mid-bite. “Has he said that?”
Vanessa nodded. “He’s talked about it with me a couple of times. And I keep reassuring him, but…”
“And what did you tell him?”
“The truth—that I don’t miss any of it. That I’m happier here than I ever was there.” A tinge of frustration crept into her voice. “But I don’t think he believes me. Or maybe he believes me now, but he’s worried I’ll change my mind later. That I’ll wake up one day and resent him for keeping me in a small town.”
“That man loves you a lot,” Mabel said gently. “Sometimes love makes us worry about things even when we don’t need to be.”
“I know. And I love him for caring about my happiness. But I want to find a way to convince him that I truly have embraced small-town life. That I don’t just tolerate the festivals and the community events and the everyone-knows-everyone aspect of living here—I genuinely love it. I love all the things that make Fir Tree Grove different from the city. I don’t miss big city life at all.”
Vanessa took another bite of pie, chewing thoughtfully. The diner hummed around them: the clatter of dishes, the murmur of voices from the kitchen, the howl of wind outside. Through the pass-through window, she could see Jackson stirring the soup. He looked up as if sensing her gaze, and their eyes met across the space. He smiled, and she smiled back, feeling that familiar flutter in her stomach.
“So what you need,” Mabel said slowly, “is a way to show him that you’re all in on this life. That you’re not just going along with things to make him happy.”
“Exactly.” Vanessa leaned forward, grateful that her grandmother understood. “But I don’t know how to do that. I went crazy our first year in our house decorating for Christmas to fit in, and I work at The Toy Chest with you, I’ve made close friends, I volunteer whenever I can. We have a home and a life and a baby. What else can I do to prove that this is where I want to be?”
They sat in silence for a moment, both thinking. Mabel took another bite of her pie, her expression contemplative. Outside, the snow continued to fall, and somewhere down the street, Vanessa could hear the faint sound of a snow plow attempting to clear the roads.
“You need a grand gesture,” Mabel said finally. “Something that shows that you’re embracing this life, not just participating. Something that proves you understand what makes this place special.”
“But what? I can’t exactly—”
Vanessa stopped mid-sentence as she watched her grandmother’s expression change. Mabel’s eyes had gone wide, then absolutely gleeful. It was the look she got when she’d just had what she considered to be a brilliant idea.
“Mabel?” Vanessa said cautiously. “What are you thinking?”
“Oh, I’ve just thought of the perfect thing.” Mabel set down her fork, practically vibrating with excitement. “And it’ll be traditional too. Very Fir Tree Grove.”
“What is it?” Vanessa leaned forward eagerly, her pie temporarily forgotten. “Tell me.”
But Mabel’s gaze had shifted past her, toward the kitchen where Jackson was visible through the window. Her grandmother’s expression turned mischievous. She looked back at Vanessa and, with an exaggerated wink, said, “Leave it to me, dear.”
“What? No, you can’t just—” Vanessa started to protest, but Mabel was already shaking her head.
“Trust me on this one. I know exactly what to do, but it’ll work better if it’s a surprise. For both of you, actually.” Mabel’s smile was warm but firm. “Just trust your grandmother, hmm? Have I ever steered you wrong?”
Vanessa wanted to argue, but something in Mabel’s expression stopped her. Her grandmother looked so pleased with herself, so certain that whatever she was planning would work. And truthfully, Mabel had been right about so many things—about Vanessa needing to take a chance on small-town life, about Jackson being worth the risk, about this town being exactly what she’d been missing.
“Fine,” Vanessa said, unable to suppress a smile. “I’ll trust you. But if this backfires—”
“It won’t.” Mabel picked up her fork again, attacking her pie with renewed vigor. “You’ll see. By the time I’m done, Jackson won’t have a single doubt about where you belong.”
They finished their pie, the sweetness of the dessert matching the warmth that filled Vanessa’s chest. Whatever Mabel was planning, it came from a place of love—that much was clear. And really, wasn’t that what this whole town was about? People taking care of each other, looking out for one another, finding ways to make life a little bit better for their neighbors?
As Vanessa scraped up the last bit of ice cream from her plate, she glanced at her grandmother again and noticed something she’d missed. Mabel was wearing her usual kitschy Christmas jewelry, but the necklace was one Vanessa hadn’t seen before. It was a strand of Christmas lights shaped like tiny palm trees.
Vanessa chuckled. “Dreaming of fairer weather?” She gestured to the necklace with her fork.
