The Perfect Gift

C H A P T E R 🎄8

R O S E A N N E

It was the second day of preparations for the festival, and already the town was abuzz.Lisa had hired more construction crews to build a small stage in the town square while other teams began hanging endless strings of lights, wreaths, and figurines on the streets through downtown. Local artisans were busy producing goods like pottery, textiles, and handmade soap to sell in kiosks in front of the courthouse.

Meanwhile, I was amazed at how much Miles had come out of his shell. His social skills had improved dramatically in less than a week. All of a sudden, he was willing to talk to people, even total strangers.

The homier, friendlier life in Greenfield was having a profound effect on my little man.

The day after meeting with Iris in the café, Miles and I strolled down Main Street, taking in the sights. Many of the locals waved at us as we passed. Miles sometimes waved back. Sometimes he was too mesmerized by the festive decorations.

"Mom," he said, tugging on my sleeve. "I'm hungry."

"Me, too, sweetie. What sounds good to you?"

"Chicken nuggets."

"Hmm." I looked around. We were near Bacchus Deli. "How about a grilled chicken wrap instead?"

"What's that?"

"It's what I used to eat when I lived here long before you were born. They're really good and have everything you like in them. I promise."

"Okay," he said, still a little unsure.

We stopped inside, and fate reared her ugly head again. Who should I literally run into but the one woman I was trying to avoid?

"Excuse me—oh. It's you."

"Hello, Rosie," Lisa said, holding the door open for Miles and me.

Great, she just got here.

We walked inside, and she gestured to the counter where Tom was working.

"After you," she said.

"No, you go ahead."

"No, I insist, Roseanne," she said in her stern business voice.

I rolled my eyes. "You're not in charge outside of the gallery, you know."

"What if we sit together and I take care of lunch? We have a lot to discuss."

I wanted to argue, but it was obvious we needed to order our food and get the heck out of the way. We were making Tom wait, and I could sense his impatience.

We placed our order and moved to the side, and Tom mellowed out.

While we waited for our food to be prepared, I watched the business coming in and out of the deli. While the counter was busy and the phone rang off the hook, it seemed like very few people chose to eat inside like we did.

"Tom's killing it today," I said. "He's putting it all into Cassie's college fund, I'm sure."

"Cassie?"

"His daughter."

"Oh. Yeah, it's quite busy. But it looks like it's mostly online orders and take-out."

She was right. Most of the people who came in the door looked at their phones or stared impatiently at the staff while waiting for their food.

Nobody seemed to take much notice of where they were. They totally missed out on Tom's Christmas decorations.

"You wouldn't know that tourism is lagging to look at this place." My gaze followed a delivery driver walk in and out with his bag of goods.

"Yes, that's certainly true. Most of the customers look like they're out- of-towners. I'm guessing some of these people are tourists on their way to Devon, just stopping here for a quick bite."