“I’m sure that brings a lot of money into town.”
“Absolutely! If you ever want to stay there, it’s quite nice, and they give residents a discount. At Christmas they have a beautiful tree lighting ceremony with Santa and elves and everything. You aren’t Jewish, are you?”
“No,” I chuckle, “I’m not. I celebrate Christmas.”
“Oh, good. I didn’t want to sound insensitive. It’s a very nice ceremony and not really religious or anything. We are very commercial about our holidays here. Hot cocoa and maple candy are more common than mangers, and there isn’t a wise man to be found anywhere!”
Her laugh is infectious, and I can’t help but join in. She gives me a quick overview of her late husband’s antics with power tools, and I’m pretty sure the stories all come from old episodes of Home Improvement, but I don’t say anything. I can barely keep up with her rapid change of topics, and my head is starting to spin, but I’m definitely starting to like her. I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling since she attacked me with the cookie plate.
“Did you know we make maple syrup and candy here?” Jessie says, changing the subject yet again. “That’s one of our big industries.”
“I had no idea.”
“Oh, yes! The woods north of town is one of the largest maple forests in the United States! We have a big maple syrup festival in the spring. Cider and fresh donuts! They go right to the Winter Lodge afterward, so if you can’t make it to the festival, you can still get some there. Now, there’s a tourist shopping area near the lodge. Unless you want a Cascade Falls keychain or something, you shouldn’t need to do any shopping there. Do you use credit cards?”
“Well, uh, yeah. Sometimes.” What a strange question!
“Cash is better, dear. My finance guy would tell you that.” She reaches over and pats my hand. “Don’t use your credit cards unless it’s at the Eastside Plaza.”
“Why not?”
“You never know,” she says with a tight-lipped smile and then immediately changes the subject. “Do you need a quilt for your bed?”
“A quilt?”
“Yes, hunny. It gets cold here in the winter, and everyone needs a quilt for their bed. I’ll make you one.”
“Make me a quilt?” I shake my head rapidly. I know how much work goes into making quilts. Aunt Ginny always priced them high at the antique shop. “You don’t have to do that!”
“Nonsense! I need to keep busy, or retirement will send me to an early grave! What’s the point in saving up to retire early if I die of boredom at sixty?”
I try to protest, but she won’t have it. In the end, I tell her my favorite color is blue, and she goes into the bedroom to measure the bed so she’ll get the right fit. I stay in the living room, casually opening one of the unmarked boxes and wondering where to start with the unpacking. Jessie returns from the bedroom, tapping at her phone.
“Reynolds says the club is called Big O. No wonder I couldn’t remember it. I can’t even remember what a ‘Big O’ is.” She laughs hysterically. “I’m sorry, hunny, did that make you uncomfortable? I shouldn’t be so risqué when we only just met though I think the club is somewhat to blame for starting the whole thing.”
Before I can let her know that I’m not offended, she’s off again.
“Do you cook?” Jessie asks as she roams back to the kitchen. “I have a brand-new frittata pan I could bring over for you. My son gave it to me for Christmas, but I can’t stand eggs. Do you like eggs?”
“Yeah, sure. I guess so.”
“They are a good source of protein. That’s what he told me. He’s a personal trainer and always on me to eat healthy. I don’t listen, but that doesn’t stop him from talking!” Her laugh permeates the small apartment. She stops abruptly and puts her hands on her hips. “Well, do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Cook.”
“When I have to, I guess. It’s not my strong point. I’m more likely to nuke my evening meal than anything else. I haven’t managed to get to the grocery yet, so all I have right now is some microwavable noodle bowls.”
“I guess that will do for now.”
“Does your son live here in town?”
“Oh, no! He moved down to Florida a few years back—his sister, too. They keep getting on me about moving down there or at least becoming a snowbird, but I like the change of the seasons. I’ve lived here my whole life and don’t plan to change it!”
“You have two children, then?”
“Four!” Jessie laughs heartily. “Can you believe that? Three with my husband. He was a package deal, so I was stepmom to the oldest, Richard. Being a stepmom is so difficult. You need them to follow all the rules and do what’s expected, and all you get for your troubles is, ‘You’re not my real mom!’ He’s in his late twenties now, and we get along just fine, but when he was a teenager—look out!”
I smile, wondering what it would have been like to grow up in a house full of people.
“Do you have brother and sisters?” Jessie asks.
“Me? Oh, no. It was just me and my aunt.”
“No cousins?”
“None.” I try to smile.
“Hmm.” She taps her finger against her chin, and then her eyes go wide. “Look at me, all up in your business and not giving you a chance to get your place in order.” Jessie sprints the ten feet from the kitchen to the living room and wraps me in a bear hug. “If you need anything at all, you just let me know!”
“Thanks! I’ll do that.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” Jessie says as she heads out the door
