This was a confession Snow neither liked nor had intended to say aloud. If anything, admitting this particular truth was the most dangerous thing she could do. Not saying the words meant she could pretend her heart could still be saved.
“Oh, sweetie.” Lorelei put her arm around Snow’s shoulders. “If it makes you feel any better, I had twelve years to get over Spencer, and you see how well that worked out.”
“Has anyone told you that you suck at this sort of thing?” Snow asked, desperate to lighten the mood. Lorelei squeezed her shoulders tighter before returning to the treats. “We did have a good talk last night,” Snow said. “We came to an agreement about how to proceed.”
“Good for you,” Lorelei said. “I’m still deep enough in the mushy-love stage to want everyone to be as happy as I am.”
“I didn’t say we agreed to stay together,” Snow clarified. “Caleb has this crazy idea that we can fix all our problems, or at least get around my misgivings about our marriage, by going back to dating.”
“Now you lost me.” A cookie broke in Lorelei’s hand, and she said, “Oh darn. Now I’ll have to eat this one.” She held out half to Snow.
“If we must.” Snow couldn’t turn down even a piece of a Lulu’s Home Bakery cookie. “He lost me, too, when he made the suggestion, but it kind of makes sense. We dated for two months and found ourselves married. Before we call the whole thing off, Caleb suggested we pick up where we left off before that ill-advised trip to Vegas. Since no one in town knows we’re actually married, besides you and Spencer, we can return to dating and see how things go.”
“Isn’t that called a do-over?”
“Yes, but considering how crazy the rest of our relationship has been, I agreed to give it a try. Or pretend to, anyway.”
“So no matter what happens in the next few weeks, you won’t change your mind and stay with him?” Lorelei asked.
Vivien’s threat loomed in the air like an ax about to drop.
“I won’t change my mind,” Snow said. She couldn’t, even if she wanted to.
“I would call you stubborn, but that would make me the pot and you the kettle, I suppose,” Lorelei said, winning points in the support area. “So what’s he doing today, anyway? I half expected him to be here with you.”
“He’s doing something for Miss Hattie,” Snow said, still confused that the older woman had Caleb taking orders. “She caught him lingering around the house yesterday and put him to work.” Caleb hadn’t said exactly what he’d be doing today, but Snow assumed he probably wouldn’t know until he reported for duty.
“Is she still as eccentric as she used to be?” Lorelei asked. “When I was a teenager, she scared the bejeebers out of me. And that’s saying something, since I fancied myself the ultimate rebel-without-a-clue.”
Snow didn’t know what kind of person Miss Hattie had been during Lorelei’s youth, but she liked what she knew of her now. “Colorful clothes. Never wears a bra. Big sunglasses with straight-brimmed ball caps. She’s never been anything but sweet to me,” Snow added. “I like her.”
“I only ever saw her at church,” Lorelei said, placing the last of the pumpkin bread on the display platter. “Her sweater sets were more colorful than most of the other ladies, but ball caps were never part of the ensemble. I remember her mouth looking pinched, as if she’d sucked a lemon seconds before sliding into the Silvester pew. And she always sat alone. I kind of felt bad for her back then.”
If there was one thing Miss Hattie would not tolerate, it was anyone’s pity. Snow didn’t need to know the woman for decades to be certain of that. “She’s blunt, but kind. She has a dry sense of humor. I think you’d like her.”
“But would she like me is the question.”
Maybe Lorelei still held some lingering insecurities where the Ardent Springs community was concerned.
Wadding up the plastic wrap that had covered the cookie tray, Snow said, “She’d love you.”
Lorelei smiled. “If she keeps that man of yours out of your way, I say we give her free cookies for a year.”
Chapter 12
In complete contrast to Piper Griffin’s overzealous welcome, Wally Dupuis greeted Caleb with the warmth of a New England flagpole in mid-January. At first, Caleb feared he might have unwittingly stepped in something based on Mr. Dupius’s facial expression upon first meeting. Yet after several minutes in the man’s presence without a shift in the puckered lip and pulled brow, Caleb concluded this must be his interviewer’s normal look.