Page 20 of Meet Me at the Christmas Cottage (Jonathon Island #6)

“That tree is huge!” Bronte exclaimed as they came to the end of the street. The vantage point at this end of the street, slightly higher than the other end, gave them a perfect view into the park. “When did they even put it up? Was it up yesterday when we came into town?”

“It’s the magic of Jonathon Island.” Jonah winked at her. “It’s been up since probably Thanksgiving.”

“I can’t believe I missed it. They will light it up tonight, right?” Bronte asked, breathless as she stared over everyone’s heads toward the park and tree at the other end of Main Street.

“As soon as it gets dark.”

“We have to stay for that. Can we?” She turned back to Jonah, the excitement and cold tingeing her cheeks pink.

Jonah wasn’t sure he could tell her no even if he wanted to. “Of course. The tree lighting is the main event.”

Bronte shivered. “I can’t wait.”

“Let’s get you out of the cold for a little bit.

” He didn’t want to risk Bronte getting hypothermia.

While everyone had been filtering in and out of the warm shops, he and Bronte had stuck to the outdoor canopies.

“Come on, the library is right over here. Let’s go throw our vote in for the best gingerbread house.

Then we can go hang out in Martha’s until it’s time to build a snowman. ”

Holding the door to the library open, Jonah let Bronte go in ahead of him.

They said hello to the librarians, got their score cards for the gingerbread house contest, and moved to the community-room-turned-winter-gingerbread-house-wonderland.

The room even smelled as if someone had just finished baking gingerbread cookies.

Confirming his suspicions, Jonah spotted a table with gingerbread cookies and a carafe of hot apple cider.

“These are seriously impressive. When Dani said there was a gingerbread contest, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.”

Paper snowflakes, probably made by kids during story time, hung from the ceiling, and soft Christmas music played from a hidden speaker.

The room had five folding tables set up in a horseshoe shape in the middle of the room so they could see both the front and back of each gingerbread structure.

Each table had four to five gingerbread houses—or coffee shops, beaches, and even one that looked like it was supposed to be Hogwarts.

A tented index card with a number sat in front of each creation.

“I don’t even know where to start.” Bronte looked like a deer in headlights. Seeming to shake off her indecision, she moved to the first table. “Who makes them all?”

“A lot are from the school on the island,” Jonah explained, following behind Bronte.

“A couple weeks leading up to Christmas break, any students who want to form a team and work on a gingerbread house are allowed to. I remember creating a gingerbread house rendition of the school and football field in my day.”

“Did you win?” Bronte asked, looking up from studying a log cabin made from pretzel rods.

“Ha! No. I think we came in sixth?”

“Sixth isn’t too bad.” Bronte wrote something down on the scorecard in her hand.

“There were only eight houses that year.”

“Oof. I guess it’s grown a little since then,” Bronte said, motioning toward the many-more-than-eight creations on the tables.

“It would look like it.”

“How am I supposed to decide which house wins, knowing that all of them were probably made by a bunch of kids?”

Jonah thought for a minute. It was always the dilemma he faced when judging these things in the past. “Look at it this way. If tomorrow something in the world changed and you had to live in one of these”—he pointed at all the houses—“which one would you choose?”

“First of all,” Bronte said as she held up her finger, “that’s a horrible thought, because I would end up eating my house, and then I would be three hundred pounds and homeless.”

Jonah couldn’t imagine Bronte being anything but cute—even at three hundred pounds.

“But I think I’d have to go with this one.” Bronte pointed to the pretzel-stilted house on a vanilla-wafer-crumb beach, surrounded by blue icing water.

“It looks like a warm place.”

“I think I’m cold enough here to last a lifetime.” Bronte shivered. “Next writing retreat, I’m going to make sure I’m on a cruise. Your family has it right.”

“Fair enough,” Jonah conceded.

“What about you?” Bronte bumped his shoulder with hers. “Which one would you live in?”

“Are you kidding me? Hogwarts is on the table. I’m living at Hogwarts.”

Options made, they finished filling out their score cards and dropped them in the ballot box.

Deed done, Jonah clapped his hands together. “We have about an hour and a half before the snowman-building contest. Want to walk over to Martha’s for a snack?”

“That sounds amazing, and I could eat,” Bronte said, wrapping her arms around her middle.

Thankfully Martha’s was next door to the library. With all the people in the street, he wasn’t sure they’d have time to make it anywhere else before it was time to meet at the art center for the snowman contest.

Finding the only empty booth left, they tugged off their coats and slid into their seats. Jordi stopped by and took their order for an extra-large fry and two peppermint chocolate shakes. They sat in silence until Jordi returned with their order.

“It’s freezing outside, and we’re drinking ice cream.” Jonah shook his head in disbelief.

“It is never too cold for ice cream,” Bronte shot back, taking such a big gulp from her milkshake Jonah was afraid she’d have brain freeze.

“I’ll give you that one.”

Bronte chewed on her bottom lip, which distracted Jonah to no end. She opened her mouth to say something, but then snapped it closed. It happened twice more before Jonah decided to put her out of her misery. Either that or he’d start laughing, and he didn’t think Bronte would appreciate that.

“You might as well spit it out,” he told her before his curiosity killed him.

“Spit what out?” Bronte asked.

“Whatever it is you’re afraid to ask me.”

“I know this isn’t any of my business, but when you said you didn’t want to take over the family business, you never told me what it was that you wanted to do instead.”

Jonah thought for a moment, grabbing the ketchup bottle and squirting a glob onto their plate.

“I haven’t admitted what I really want to do to anyone.

I’m not even sure myself. Before I had the inheritance from my grandfather, I’d just accepted that I’d always be a doctor.

I’d always be miserable. I know I sound crazy—giving up a medical practice for… ”

“What is it you want?” Bronte gently urged.

“I want to open a bookstore on the island.” Jonah rushed on before he lost his nerve.

“Grandfather wanted us to do something with our inheritance money, and mine is just sitting there. Holland bought Mom and Dad’s house and remodeled it, my other sisters pooled their money and started a wedding and event-planning business, but I haven’t really known what to do with mine.

And I got a text from my buddy not too long after I got here that the old island bookstore is up for sale.

” Jonah dipped his head, afraid to see disbelief in Bronte’s eyes.

Who would give up being a doctor to own a brick-and-mortar bookstore? They were closing left and right thanks to sites like Amazon. He’d be crazy to give up something steady for uncertainty.

“It almost sounds like it’s meant to be.”

Jonah’s head snapped up. Wait. Bronte didn’t think he was crazy?

“A bookstore would be a great way to spend your inheritance.” Bronte took a drink of her shake.

“Look. I can’t tell you what to do, and I don’t know your family, but from what I’ve heard about them, I don’t think they’d want you to be miserable for the rest of your life.

You still have a lot of life left, way more than what you spent in med school.

I think your family would want you to be happy. ”

“They may want me to be happy, but my sister Amy says if I decide not to take over the practice, my dad will be so disappointed it’ll break his heart.

He took it over from his father, and his father did the same.

My entire life, my dad has been drilling into me how much he wants me to take over the practice, and if I don’t, what will happen to it?

Who will be left to run it? Jonathon Island can’t just not have a clinic. ”

“I don’t have a lot of experience with families.” Bronte let out a bitter laugh. “Okay, I have no experience with family, but I think you have a good one, and I think that, yes, your dad might be disappointed for a little bit, but at the end of the day, doesn’t he just want you to be happy?”

Jonah took a deep breath. “I wish you were right, but the fact is, I’ve already put so much into becoming a doctor.

I knew after my second year of med school that I didn’t want to do this long-term, but I stuck it out, not wanting to be a disappointment.

And then when Amy told me I’d break my father’s heart…

I’m just not sure I can take that chance. ”

Bronte looked like she wanted to say more, but instead, she just took another sip of her milkshake. Jonah wanted to stop talking about this before it made him sicker than he already felt.

He grabbed a now-cold fry from the top of the plate and popped it in his mouth, more for something to do with his hands.

Everything Bronte had said made sense, and he hoped Amy was wrong and his dad’s heart didn’t get broken, but at the end of the day, he just didn’t know, and he couldn’t, wouldn’t take that chance.