Page 8 of Christmas Kisses
“Some people are pretty judgmental.”
“I’m not. Love is love, you know.”
“Idoknow, and I’m pretty protective of my grandma. I was of Doris, as well.”
“I would be, too,” she said, but her gaze was distant, as if seeing something far away. “Unfortunately, that tells me the reason my mom and Doris didn’t see eye to eye. I’ll love my mom forever, but she was pretty opinionated and rigid about how people should live their lives, who they wereallowedto love. It’s horrible to think that was the reason, but knowing my mother, it probably was.”
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.
She shook her head quickly. “Can’t change it now. But… Why didn’t Doris leave the shop to Maple? That would have made more sense.”
That was easier to address. And far safer to discuss than rocky familial relationships. “For one, Maple didn’t want it.”
“I’m still confused why the shop came to me.”
Before I could answer, the waitress brought our food, and we dished slices of the veggie pizza onto our plates.
“Doris adored you from afar,” I said after offering Jessica the basket of breadsticks. “You haven’t looked around her house much, have you?”
“No. When I got in this morning, I was anxious to see her shop. I dropped my bags there then headed over toHard Candy Kisses.”
“She has pictures of you all over her place,” I told her as I picked up my pizza. “Despite their fight, I think your mom still sent them a couple times a year.”
Jessica’s mouth dropped open, and she set down the slice she’d just picked up.
“I… I don’t even… That is…so…fucked up,” she exclaimed.
“Yeah,” I hesitantly agreed. “Kinda?”
To my surprise, my response drew a snort, and she shook her head, reaching for her pizza again. Her expression brightened when she looked back at me with a forced smile.
“Enough about me and my family drama. What I want to know is, is there an actual waterfall around here someplace or did the founders of Majestic Falls just think it was a good name?”
It was my turn to laugh, her question taking me by surprise. “Yes, there’s an actual waterfall. Several, to tell the truth. The one the town’s named after is a three-mile walk from Lake Main Street and partway up a mountain. It’s a nice trek. We could do the trail sometime if you want. I usually hike up there several times a year.”
She grimaced, her face saying no, even as she told me, “Maybe. But now… What do you do when you’re not being the village’s good Samaritan?”
“I’m a composer. I write music, and shall we say, Imassagecompositions into usable configurations for one of the movie studios. Sometimes, I take selections they get from rock bands and pop artists, and turn them into orchestral pieces. And because I’m a glutton for punishment, I teach piano, too.”
Her eyes lit up, and I was glad our conversation had changed directions.
“I’m going to ask you the question I’m sure everyone asks…” she started.
“Yes,” I replied, already knowing. “You’ve probably heard my music in something.”
She drew in a breath, her hand splayed on her chest, though the charade was completely playful. “So I’m having dinner with afamousperson. That’s cool.”
“I’m just a guy,” I insisted. I pointed quickly at her as a reminder. “Nicest guy in town.”
“I don’t know about that. You were the one who made that claim, and self-assessments aren’t always the most accurate.”
I coughed into the side of my fist. “Life coach.”
“True, and we’re usually the least self-actualized of all. But this isn’t about me. Tell me something with your music score in it.”
“Violet Moon.” Everyone on earth seemed to have seen that one, and it was getting all kinds of Oscar buzz, so I was pretty sure she’d at least heard of it.
“No…way…” she breathed then dug into her purse.