Madelyn "Lyn" Creeke and her grandmother were the last of their family. At least, that's what Lyn's grandmother always led her to believe.
Lyn had never heard of or seen pictures of Georgina Creeke, a great aunt that had been living a few hours awa...
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The next morning was a Tuesday, but I decided to postpone my shopping until Thursday. It meant a few more days on the floor, but I think at that point my body had simply surrendered to the torture. That and Thursday was the only day that week when we'd have just one room occupied at the inn.
The Elliots left Wednesday, and the Ramirezes were staying until Friday morning. After that, we'd have a few brief hours to prepare before the tidal wave of weekend guests arrived. With only one couple to entertain on Thursday, it seemed like the most advantageous time to step out of the house.
To prepare, I spent all my free time on Tuesday and Wednesday plowing through the work I was supposed to be doing back in the city. My reports and forecasts for clients' stock portfolios became a rather tedious chore by the end of Wednesday night. However, looking out my window to watch Jordan haul out strings of lights or armfuls of wreaths made the task a bit more enjoyable.
With Gina's notes now in hand, he moved at lightning speed, pulling out a couple artificial trees for inside the house and adorning the railings and rooftop with sparkling white lights. Wreaths with large crimson bows sat in front of every window and simple electric candles decorated each sill. Christmas had finally come to the Hound and Sparrow.
"You sure you don't want me to take you to the station? I can watch the inn tonight. I won't even charge you for it."
Jordan spared a quick sideways glance and a playful smirk before returning his attention to the road before us. We cruised along the main street, which was bedecked with wreathes, garlands, and bows. It was all very festive and the Christmas music pouring out of Jordan's radio accompanied it nicely. A man with a rich, cheerful voice was singing a delightful tune that repeatedly wished the listener a holly, jolly Christmas. Before I realized it, a content smile had found its way to my face, and it remained there until the decorations tapered off as we shifted from the touristy town's center to the utilitarian strip malls for the locals.
"The offer is, once again, appreciated, but, really, there's no point. It's not worth the hours on the train just to stand in front of a closet that doesn't particularly have any better clothes than what I have now. My wardrobe is meant for boardrooms, not for trekking through Small Town, USA."
"I can't even imagine you in a suit at this point." He shook his head and a light laugh danced on his lips.
"Why not?" I looked in the side-view mirror, finding myself a bit worse for wear, thanks to the stress of the past few days. "This is not what I usually look like."
"Sure, I know, but it's the only version of you I'm familiar with."
"You've seen me in a suit. I'd come straight from work that first night I was here."
"Yeah and I had trouble seeing you then, since all I could really see was the color red." We turned down another side street and what looked to be a large shopping plaza stood a few blocks away. "It was also dark, and I was tired. And you know what, you may only know yourself as a woman with a nice suit and her hair pinned back, but I like the you that wears jeans, a sweater, and a messy bun. She's a lot nicer than that woman I met that first night."
