Wilhelmina Fritz proclaimed herself fit and fifty. Her pro-file picture showed a slender woman with brown shoulder- length hair and a pretty round face. She was on a hiking trail, posing surrounded by fir and maple trees, with a golden Lab-rador by her side. Love to hike, she wrote.
“Looks like you found a Mrs. Claus for Mitch,” said Viola.
“Let’s start chatting.”
And so “Mitch” began a correspondence with Wilhelmina.
By Wednesday, Wilhelmina was ready to drive on over from nearby Cedarwood and meet him for coffee at The Coffee Stop. They made a date for the following day.
“Now I just have to get him over there,” said Frankie when
she called to report to Viola.
“What if he balks? Then it will be you wearing a Santa hat
and meeting Wilhelmina.”
“I’ll make it happen,” Frankie said.
“Let me know how it goes.”
Hopefully, it would go smoothly.
Of course it would. If there was one thing Frankie was
good at, it was organizing things—events, parties…meetups.
“Mind the shop, Mom,” she said to Adele when it was time for the big moment.
Adele looked up from the nativity set she was putting back into place after a young visitor had scattered the shepherds and wise men every which way. “Where are you going?”
Elinor was in another part of the shop, unpacking a shipment of ornaments, and Natalie was at the grade school, helping with the teacher appreciation luncheon. Adele hated being on her own at the cash register.
“Just a quick coffee with Mitch,” said Frankie.
“Santa Walk business?”
“Santa business,” Frankie replied vaguely.
“Make it quick and bring me back an eggnog latte, okay?”
Adele requested.
“Sure.”
As soon as she’d gotten Mitch and Wilhelmina squared away. Having to get coffee for her mom would make a good excuse to vacate the table. Her excuse for being at the table in the first place would be… Well, Frankie wasn’t sure what that would be.
“Coffee break time,” she greeted him as she poked her head in his office.
“Rain check?” he replied. He held up a sheaf of invoices.
“I’m up to my eyeballs here.”
“All the more reason you should take a break,” she insisted.
“Your eyeballs will thank you.” He was about to say no, she knew it. “Come on. Just a few minutes. I need your advice on something.”
That hadn’t been the wisest thing to say. What on earth did she need advice on?
“Okay, then, a quick break,” he said, and grabbed his Handy’s Hardware windbreaker from a hook on the wall. “Brock, can you hold down the fort?” he called as they started out.
“I’m on it,” came a disembodied voice from the other end of the store.
“Who’s Brock?” asked Frankie. She knew everyone who worked for Mitch. She’d drafted all of them to help build Santa’s sleigh for the first year’s Santa Walk parade. “Oh, wait. Your new manager?”
“Yep. Just got here last week from California.”
“You never said. Did he bring a family with him?”
“Nope. He’s single.”
Single. Hmm. “How old is he?”
“What? Are you in the market all of a sudden?” Mitch
asked.
“No. I’m just wondering if he might like to meet Stef.” It was past time for her sister to find someone.
Mitch shrugged. “He’s about the right age.”
“Stef could help him find his feet, introduce him around.”
Small-town newspaper reporters knew everyone.
“How about giving the poor guy a chance to catch his breath before you go hitching him up with someone?”
“You want him to feel at home in his new town, right?
And stay.”
“He might already have a woman.”
“You don’t know if he does?”
“He barely got here. I’ve been too busy bringing him up to speed in the store to get all the details of his love life. Now, how about instead of talking about my new manager, we talk about what you need help with,” he said as they arrived at the coffee shop.
He opened the door for her and the aroma of coffee danced out to greet them. Morning rush hour was over and only a couple of tables were occupied, one with a senior man reading a copy of the Carol Clarion, and another had two young women, one with a baby in a stroller, visiting over their drinks.
The place was ready for Christmas with gold tinsel strung along its windows. An instrumental arrangement of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” was playing.
“Let’s get something to drink first,” she said, stalling. “I’m buying. You want your usual Americano?”
“I can get my own drink,” he said.
“This is on me,” she insisted. “Consider it payment for your advice. How about you grab us a table?”
He gave in and settled at one of the small, scarred wood tables, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He was such a good man. He deserved a good woman. Wilhelmina fit the bill. Frankie hoped she was as nice as she’d sounded in their online conversations.
She picked up their orders, Americano for him and a peppermint blended drink for her, then made her way to the table.
“So, what do you need my advice on?” Mitch asked as she set his drink down in front of him.
She grabbed the first thing that came to mind. “How do I get Natalie to turn her candy-crafting hobby into a business?”
“Been on her about that again, huh?”
“Her bonbons are to die for. I know she could make a success of it.”
“She’s already selling them at the shop.”
“Only small batches.”
“She’s not ready yet, so don’t push her. Meanwhile, you’ve got a good worker.”
“I do, but Holiday Happiness is my dream, not hers.”
“She has time to work on her own dreams. Let her be, Frankie. You’ve got your hands full managing the shop and your own life. You don’t have time to run everyone else’s.”
Frankie tried not to think what Mitch was going to say when he learned she was trying to run his. “Sometimes people need help,” she argued. “I only want what’s best for her.
I want what’s best for all the important people in my life.”
He smiled. “I know you do. You’ve got a big heart.”
And once she found the woman of his dreams he would be forever grateful for her big heart.
Speaking of the woman of his dreams, who was the woman marching into the coffee shop, stuffed into red leggings and a red coat, carrying a manila folder under her arms? The face looked vaguely familiar.
Oh no. It couldn’t be.