At that, her mother stepped out of the way, and Olivia hurried inside to put the hot casserole dish on the stove, where it couldn’t burn the countertop. She’d originally planned to have a talk with her family, to finally sit them down and hash out the past. After that, she’d imagined embracing Noelle and telling her she no longer held anything against her. But the coziness of her parents’ home, and the fact that Noelle, when she walked out from the bedroom area in back, acted pleasantly surprised but didn’t question their presence, made Olivia change her mind. Why go into all of that again? Why cause fresh tears by dredging up those negative emotions?
“How’re things at the shop?” her father asked Brandon.
“Sales are strong, considering that we haven’t had a lot of snow this year,” he replied, and sat down with Ham while Nancy drew her and Noelle into the kitchen.
“Come see the pies I made this morning,” she told them, as excited as though it was already Christmas morning.
If Noelle had already seen what her mother had baked, she didn’t say so. Like Olivia, she admired the pies, which were sitting off to one side so they wouldn’t be in the way of other preparations.
“They look and smell wonderful,” Olivia said.
“Maybe someday I’ll learn how to cook.” Noelle sounded somewhat wistful, which reminded Olivia of everything they’d been missing out on since they’d stopped having much to do with each other.
“We could set aside a few hours and have Mom teach us both,” she suggested.
Nancy’s smile couldn’t have stretched any wider. “There’s a real knack to it, but I could show you.”
“I don’t know when I’d be able to do that.” Noelle sounded genuinely disappointed. “I have to work so many shifts during the next two weeks.”
“You’ll have Christmas off, won’t you?” Olivia asked. The boutique would be closed—Olivia knew that much—but Sexy Sadie’s stayed open year-round.
“No, but people should be in a good mood that night.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get some decent tips.”
Olivia studied her.
“What?” Noelle sounded slightly defensive, as if she was expecting a comment—but Olivia smiled.
“I like the way you just turned that into a positive.”
Noelle pressed a hand to her chest. “You like something about me?”
Olivia remembered how cute Noelle had been as a young girl, how enthusiastic she’d been about every aspect of life. “I like a lot of things about you,” she said. And then, even though this hug wasn’t the one she’d planned in her mind, she pulled her sister close. When she let go, Noelle looked absolutely stunned. “What was that for?”
“We’re sisters,” Olivia said simply. “And it’s Christmas.”
Their mother blinked as if holding back tears, but then a buzzer went off and she rushed to the oven. While her attention was elsewhere, Noelle lowered her voice. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did what I did to...to you and Kyle. I don’t know why I do half the things I do.”
Olivia patted her arm. “It’s okay,” she said and, somehow, she meant it.
“This is going to be quite a Christmas,” her mother piped up, joining them again. “I don’t remember a time I’ve felt so optimistic.”
With a laugh, Olivia slipped an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “Merry Christmas.”
Welcome to Icicle Falls
Sheila Roberts
Also available from MIRA
The Life in Icicle Falls series
from USA TODAY bestselling author Sheila Roberts
BETTER THAN CHOCOLATE
MERRY EX-MAS
WHAT SHE WANTS
THE COTTAGE ON JUNIPER RIDGE
THE TEA SHOP ON LAVENDER LANE
THE LODGE ON HOLLY ROAD
A WEDDING ON PRIMROSE STREET
CHRISTMAS ON CANDY CANE LANE
HOME ON APPLE BLOSSOM ROAD
STARTING OVER ON BLACKBERRY LANE
Contents
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Epilogue
Prologue
Love and BFFs
WHO DIDN’T LIKE a cookie exchange? Well, other than a surly teenager.
Muriel Sterling-Wittman’s little house was filled with friends and the aroma of hot chocolate. And every inch of space on her dining room table was covered with plates of cookies—cookies smothered in frosting, cookies oozing chocolate, cookies with gumdrops peeking out like colored gems. Scented candles added to the good smells, and the room buzzed with conversation as three generations of Icicle Falls residents swapped recipes and gossip.
In one corner Olivia Wallace was making a face over some cheeky remark her friend Dot Morrison had just made. Muriel’s daughters were gathered around the punch bowl, which was full of eggnog punch, while Janice Lind, the grand old dame of Christmas baking, was holding court on Muriel’s sofa with Muriel, her friend Pat Wilder and Pat’s daughter Isabel keeping her company. Some of the younger girls were hovering over the table, sneaking cookies.
Normally Pat’s fourteen-year-old granddaughter, Clara, would have been with them, but right now she sat in a chair with her back to the group, scowling like a miniature Scrooge in drag. This was a first. Pat had been bringing her granddaughter to Muriel’s cookie exchanges ever since she was five. And she’d always been excited to be there, happy to play with the other little girls whose mothers had deemed them worthy of the privilege of attending. Instead, here she sat, the expression on her face as dark as her hair.
“Why don’t you go hang out with the girls?” asked Pat.
“No, thanks.” Clara shot a dagger glare over to where the other girls were gathered in a giggling clump. All except for one, who was sneaking anxious looks in Clara’s direction.
Pat and Muriel exchanged glances.
“She and Aurora are having issues,” Isabel, her mother, explained.
Muriel’s daughters Cecily and Bailey had joined them now, leaving Samantha in charge of the punch bowl. Cecily helped Muriel’s oldest daughter, Samantha, run Sweet Dreams Chocolates, the family’s chocolate company, and Bailey owned a successful tea shop in town. All three of them were happily settled with the right man now and busy with work, and Cecily was expecting a baby in February. But they always gave the cookie exchange top priority.
“I need this recipe,” Bailey announced, holding up a chocolate cookie
