- Home
- Pamela M. Kelley
Nantucket White Christmas: A feel-good, small town, Christmas story Page 7
Nantucket White Christmas: A feel-good, small town, Christmas story Read online
Page 7
“No, it’s not,” Philippe agreed.
“She knows she’s going to a good home,” Angela said softly.
Philippe looked at her and smiled. Angela understood.
He carried Mandy and her carrier out to the car and they drove home. Once they were back in the house, he set the carrier down and unzipped it. Mandy tentatively stepped one paw out at a time, sniffed the floor, then ran over to Philippe and meowed loudly. He bent down and scooped her up gently. She snuggled against him and began purring.
“Well, it looks like this is a match made in heaven,” Angela teased.
He laughed. “Thanks for coming along for the ride.”
His cell rang and he saw that it was Jessica. He answered and was about to tell her that he’d call her right back but she didn’t give him the chance.
“Philippe, I needed to catch you quickly to let you know I’m heading off island with the girls tomorrow. We’re going to Boston. The trip came up suddenly, but I couldn’t pass it up. So, I won’t be able to go to that lecture thing with you. I’m sure you’ll find someone else to go.”
“Sure, no problem. Have a good time.”
“Thanks. Have to run. Talk later.” Jessica ended the call and Philippe just shook his head. He knew that she hadn’t been all that excited to go to the lecture with him.
“Sorry about that. Jessica just blew me off for tomorrow night. We’re supposed to go to a literary talk, a book signing that a buddy of mine is doing at a local restaurant. She got a better offer to go out with her friends.”
“She doesn’t seem the literary type,” Angela said quickly, then immediately regretted the words. She didn’t like the woman, but she didn’t need to be rude about it.
But Philippe just chuckled. “No, you’re right. Jessica’s not much of a reader. My friend is a well known writer, too. Jackson Ford.”
“I read his last book! It was really good. Does he have a new one out?” Jane had lent her the book after raving about it.
“He does, yeah, and it’s already been optioned for a Netflix series. Would you want to come along with me? I have an extra ticket now that Jessica isn’t going. It should be a fun night. There will be food and drinks, too.”
Angela hesitated for a split second before happily saying yes. She knew that neither one of them saw it as a date, so it was just two friends going out for the night.
“It sounds fun. I’d love to.”
“I’ll swing by around six to pick you up. Oh, and it’s casual. Just let me know your address.”
Angela gave it to him and relaxed a bit. She didn’t bring any fancy clothes, but she had a few cute sweaters and her favorite slim black pants and boots.
The next evening, at a few minutes before six, Philippe arrived to pick her up. Angela was thrilled to see that it was starting to snow just a little. Swirling flurries of fluffy snow danced in the air before landing.
“Our first snowfall of the year,” Philippe announced. “It’s actually late. We usually have at least one storm by now. This isn’t supposed to amount to much, though.”
“It’s so pretty. This doesn’t happen in San Francisco.” Angela was caught up in the wonder of it.
Philippe laughed. “Flurries are pretty. But Nor’easters when the snow is coming down so hard that you can’t see more than a foot in front of you, not so much. And shoveling a foot or more of snow, definitely not fun.”
Angela climbed into Philippe’s Jeep and about ten minutes later, they pulled up to the restaurant where the reading was being held. It was in a back function room and there were about a hundred or so people there already.
“He’s lucky this is a good turnout,” Philippe whispered. “At my first book signing, only one person showed up. And I was really grateful for that one. It was stressful worrying that no one would show.”
Angela had a hard time picturing Philippe in an empty room waiting for readers. His books were so popular.
There was a bar set up in the corner and Philippe ordered drinks for both of them, a beer for himself and a chardonnay for Angela. They found seats as near the front as they could get and waited for Jackson to address the crowd. He’d already waved to Philippe when he saw him, but was surrounded by handlers who were getting water for him and making sure he had everything he needed for his talk.
A few minutes later, once everyone was settled and all the seats were filled, someone from Jackson’s publishing company said a few words to introduce him, and then Jackson addressed the group and thanked them all for being there. He was surprisingly funny, considering the dark, moody mysteries that he wrote. Angela enjoyed his dry humor. He had the whole group laughing as he told them about his upbringing, going to a Catholic school and being taught by very strict nuns.
He then moved into reading an excerpt from his newest book. It was the opening scene and ended on a cliffhanger that made Angela want to drop everything and read the book asap.
“He’s good, huh?” Philippe whispered.
She nodded. “Is the book out? I haven’t seen it online yet.”
“I think today is the release day. I’m sure he has some copies here.”
He had lots of copies. After the talk, Jackson sat behind a stack of hardcover books and a long line formed of people wanting to buy an autographed copy. One of the handlers took care of selling the books first, while Jackson smiled and chatted with everyone as he signed each book.
Philippe and Angela waited in line, and Philippe bought two books and handed one to her.
“Let me give you some money.” Angela reached for her wallet and Philippe waved her off. “I don’t want your money. Thanks for coming with me tonight.”
“Thank you for inviting me!” Angela accepted the book and handed it to Jackson to sign when they reached him. He looked up briefly, smiled at Angela, then grinned when he saw Philippe.
“Hey, thanks for coming! I’m here for a few more days. We should go out for a beer.”
Once the books were signed, they wandered around the room, trying some of the different appetizers and chatting by a big window where they could see the snow falling softly outside. Philippe was charming as he told her funny stories about his experience so far working with Netflix and some of the very popular actors and actresses that starred in the shows based on his books.
“Do you like it better than writing the books?” she asked.
He thought about that for a moment. “No. But sometimes yes. It’s very different. The money can be better in TV or film and with TV, you have total control of how the show is created, if you are the show-runner. If you just sell your book to Hollywood and let them do it all, it could end up very different.”
“Do you think you’ll ever move there?”
Philippe laughed. “To Hollywood? Never. Nice place to visit and occasionally do a project, but Nantucket is home. My agent thought he was giving me bad news that our project has a delayed start date, but it was the best possible news. I’m looking forward to staying here, getting Mandy settled and writing a lot of new books.”
“Mandy is awfully cute.”
“What about you? Are you eager to get back to San Francisco?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m eager. But that’s home for me. It’s all I know and I am eager to finish school.”
“Have you ever lived anywhere else?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve only been out of California a few times.”
“And now you’re on Nantucket. Maybe you’ll fall in love with it here and won’t want to leave. Like I did.”
Angela watched the snow fall outside. It seemed to be going faster and coming down harder.
“I didn’t expect to like it so much here,” she admitted. “I will miss it when I go home.”
“Well, you’ll have to be sure and come back to visit, then. Speaking of home, we should probably get going. It looks like it’s getting a little nasty out there.”
Philippe drove her home and walked her to her door when they reached the cottage. She
opened her door and Sam was sitting right there, waiting for her.
“This is Sam,” Angela told Philippe as she stepped inside.
“He’s a handsome fellow.” He bent over and scratched Sam behind his ears, which resulted in immediate and very loud purring, followed by a succession of excited meows as Sam tried to give Angela his opinion on their guest.
“And a character, too.” Philippe laughed.
“Thanks so much for bringing me to the signing. It was fun.”
“It was, wasn’t it? See you soon, Angela.”
She closed the door tightly behind her, and went to find a flashlight out and some candles in case the power went out. The winds were picking up, and she remembered that Philippe had said that in Nor’easters the wind often knocked out power lines.
Sam trotted along behind her as she searched the kitchen until she found what she was looking for—an old flashlight and two fat candles that were brand new. If the power went out, she was ready for it.
12
By morning, the snow had stopped and the sun was shining. Angela was grateful that her car was in the garage. She didn’t have anything to scrape snow and made a mental note to pick up a scraper at the store, in case she was out somewhere and needed to clean off her car. She started the Mini Cooper and let it run for a few minutes to warm the engine and the inside of the car before driving down the road to the Inn.
She was glad that she didn’t have to go far or out onto the main roads, because it was a little slippery. It looked as though the road had been plowed at one point, but there was still a lot of snow and ice packed down. Angela had never driven in snow before and it was a little nerve-racking when she felt the car slide a bit as she turned a corner. She went slower the rest of the way and hoped that the sun would help melt the snow off the roads while she was working.
Lisa and Rhett were drinking coffee when she arrived. She helped herself to a cup and joined them.
“How was the driving out there?” Lisa asked.
“I don’t have anything to compare it to. It was my first time driving in the snow, but I just went really slow. It was a little slippery. Very pretty, though.”
“I hate driving in the snow. I try to avoid it as much as possible. We heard the weather was going to be bad yesterday, so I stopped at the market and stocked up on groceries just in case we lost power.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Rhett laughed. “The minute there’s snow in the forecast, people run to the grocery store and buy up all the water, bread and milk. It can be a little ridiculous.”
“If I recall, you were the one that suggested I go to the store.” Lisa laughed and Rhett joined her.
“She’s right, actually. It’s because you mentioned you might make meatballs. I wanted to make sure you had everything you needed.”
“Rhett loves my meatballs. I actually made a huge batch of them with sauce. I’ll give you a container to take home, Angela. You’ll get a meal or two out of them.”
“Forecast is looking a little iffy for next week now,” Rhett said. He flipped the page of the newspaper that was spread out in front of him.
“What are they saying?” Lisa asked.
“Possible Nor’easter on Christmas Day, though it’s still almost a week off, and that could change. Might be sooner, or later, or could go out to sea and we miss it entirely.”
“I hope Philippe and his parents are watching the weather. They may want to reschedule their trip. The airport and most definitely the boats won’t be running if we get a bad snow storm.”
“I’d love to see a big storm,” Angela admitted. “But I hope it holds off until after his parents get here.”
After she finished cleaning for the day, Angela headed home with a container of homemade meatballs and tomato sauce that Lisa insisted she take with her. The snow had melted and the roads were totally clear, so she decided to stop by the market and stock up on a few things, just in case the weather turned bad again.
She bought a snow scraper and stocked up on pasta, eggs, bread and some chicken. It was so cold out that she thought it might be good soup weather and a batch of homemade chicken soup would last several days.
When she got home and put everything away, she decided to do some more organizing and clearing out of her grandmother’s things. She went down to the basement, where she’d noticed a corner of what looked like items in storage. There were several plastic bins and she was curious to see what was in them.
One was full of old shoes and another was baby clothes. They were old and Angela wondered if they had been her mother’s. The last bin had an assortment of knick knacks, a few figurines and a big box that looked like it had never been opened. The outside of it said ‘soap-making kit’. Angela was intrigued and brought it upstairs to the kitchen table to take a closer look where the light was better.
There was a scrap of wrapping paper stuck to the side and she guessed it had been a gift that was never used. She opened the box, pulled out the instructions and started to feel excited. She and Jane had talked about trying to make their own soap years ago, when Jane got some wonderful-smelling homemade soap for a Christmas gift. But they never got around to trying it.
She took everything out of the box and read through the instructions. It didn’t look all that hard. Just a little time-consuming. But she had the time. She gathered everything that she needed and set about following the instructions, heating the oils on the stove until they reached a hundred degrees, and then adding the lye and water mixture and stirring until it thickened and then adding the fragrance.
The kit came with a peppermint scent which sounded good to Angela. She poured half of the white mixture into the mold when it was ready, and after adding a few drops of red color to the rest and stirring it well, she poured the red soap over the white. Then she took a knife and dragged it through in a zigzag pattern to make pretty swirls. Once that was done, she set it aside to rest for twenty-four hours before she could cut it into slices.
It would still be another few weeks before the soap could be used. It needed to cure, ideally for a month. The kit instructions explained that curing was necessary for the water to evaporate and the soap to harden so that the soap would last longer and create a lather better.
As Angela finished cleaning up in the kitchen, she noticed that it was starting to snow again outside and she was very glad that she’d gone to the store earlier. She made some pasta, and heated up the meatballs and sauce that Lisa gave her. Kate called as she was finishing up, to remind her that the Christmas basket packing was that Sunday at the Episcopal church.
“Hopefully the snow will hold off until after we get these baskets packed and given out,” Kate said.
The forecast was still on for a bad Nor’easter for Christmas Day, but the weather was clear the Sunday before when Angela went to the Episcopal church to help put the baskets together. She walked into the church parish hall and saw a flurry of activity.
Kate was at the center of the room, directing everyone. There were about fifteen volunteers gathered, and Angela joined them and helped set up the stations. They piled each long table high with one item that would go in the basket, potatoes, boxes of stuffing, canned vegetables, crackers, apple juice, pies, onions, and cranberry sauce.
“We’re just packing the dry goods now. When the clients come to pick up their baskets, they will get a turkey and some butter, cheese and whipped cream. We’ll have some of the guys helping outside, handing out the turkeys and carrying the baskets to cars for some of the women or older folks,” Kate explained as they piled potatoes on a table.
Once all the tables were full, the assembly began. Everyone took a bright red cloth shopping bag and went around the room, adding one of each item to the bag. With so many people helping, the bags were quickly filled and less than thirty minutes later they had one hundred bags of food lined up along the side of the hall. They cleaned up and then everyone helped themselves to the pizzas that were delivered as they were finishing u
p.
Angela grabbed two slices of pepperoni pizza and sat with Kristen and Kate. Kate asked Kristen the question that Angela had wondered about, too.
“Any word from Tyler? How’s his mother?”
“It’s so sad,” Kristen said. “They’re giving her less than a week now. There’s nothing they can do other than keep her comfortable.”
“How’s Tyler doing with it?” Kate asked.
“He’s absolutely crushed. Both he and Andrew are. She’s so young, not even sixty. I can’t imagine if something like that happened.”
“Especially with no warning,” Angela said.
“Right,” Kate agreed. “Speaking of parents, I was messaging with Philippe earlier today. He’s really worried about his parents traveling with this storm coming. If the forecast doesn’t change, he’s going to have them come the following weekend instead.”
“That’s a good idea. Even if they managed to get to Logan airport, if there’s any kind of a storm, odds are good they won’t be able to get here,” Kristen said.
“He said he got a cat, too, a cute little Maine Coon, from the shelter. Missy or Merry, I don’t remember her name.”
“Mandy,” Angela said.
Kate looked at her in surprise. “Have you seen her?”
“Yes, and she’s adorable. I was cleaning the day that he found out that he won’t have to travel next year, and he was so excited that he wanted to go get Mandy right then and there. I went with him. It was really cute how Mandy walked right up to him. Philippe said it was like she picked him, too.”
Kate and Kristen exchanged glances.
“Is he still seeing Jessica?” Kristen asked.
“I think so,” Kate said. “You know how he is, though. It never lasts long with anyone.”
“He is awfully good looking, though,” Kristen said. “If I wasn’t with Tyler, I might be tempted myself.”
“He is a charmer,” Kate agreed. “But it would be a mistake to fall under his spell. Philippe is a great friend, but he’s a horrible boyfriend. Maybe someday, hopefully, that might change.”