I’m so sorry, folks! I am hoping to be fully caught up by tomorrow!
In the meantime, here’s the December 10th episode.
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It was easy to tell when Old Man Winter entered CrossWinds Books. Molly was out in the tea room, refilling Lisa’s (one of her regulars) tea cup and chatting about Lisa’s upcoming book release when the front door opened and an icy wind blew through. The busy hum in the bookstore stopped abruptly.
Molly finished topping Lisa’s cup off, smiled down at the woman, and then moved to the front of the room, where a tall man dressed in an array of furs and scowls stood waiting.
“Welcome to CrossWinds Books,” she said, smiling up at him as if he were a regular customer and not Old Man Winter, refusing to be intimidated by him, even as her stomach knotted. This was who was holding Drew captive, who had kidnapped him. He was impressive enough in his wild man of the woods outfit, never mind the cold aura of winter wrapped around him, but she refused to let him rattle her. “You look cold. Come on back into the kitchen – it’s warmer there, and we can talk.” And she turned and walked back to the kitchen, not bothering to see if he would follow.
There was a chance that he wouldn’t, of course, but Molly was betting he would. Schrodinger had told her that Old Man Winter had been faintly confused when he’d delivered her invitation. Faintly confused, and curious. That meant he didn’t know what she’d do next. Which gave her an edge; a faint one, but she’d take it.
As she pushed open the kitchen door, well aware of everyone’s eyes upon her, heavy footsteps echoed behind her. Molly suppressed a triumphant smile. That’s it, she thought. Follow me. You know you want to know what the heck is going on. She refilled the kettle in her hand and put it back on the stove to boil again, then turned around to her reluctant guest. “Please, sit down. What kind of tea would you like?”
Old Man Winter stared at her. “Are you serious?” he asked finally, his voice rough and gravelly. He sounded like he’d spent a century gargling rock salt and broken glass.
“Yes,” Molly replied, as Schrodinger came in and jumped up onto his customary stool. She put his mug in front of him and looked back at Old Man Winter. “If you don’t like tea, I have hot chocolate, cider, or chai as well.”
“No coffee?” he asked.
Molly drew herself up, offended. “No. This is a TEA shop. If you want coffee, we can go to the diner and talk. It won’t be as private as here, but it’s up to you.”
They locked gazes, and surprisingly, it was Old Man Winter who looked away first. He sat down heavily next to Schrodinger and looked at the Cat. “What are you having?”
Earl Grey, hot, Schrodinger replied. Just like Captain Picard.
“Who?” Old Man Winter said.
“Don’t get him started, or you’ll be here all day,” Molly said hastily, cutting Schrodinger off. “He’s Schrodinger’s hero.”
Old Man Winter stared at the Cat, and then his gaze slid back to Molly. “Something black, please.” The please sounded like it might have hurt him.
“Coming right up.” Molly went into the pantry and returned with a large mug and three tea bags: Schrodinger’s Earl Grey, and two of her special Christmas tea bags. After she’d poured hot water into the mugs, she set a tray of cookies and scones that she’d prepared especially for him in the middle of the island. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Not in tea,” he replied, and she mentally gave him points for that. Molly preferred her tea black as well. “Now, what did you want to talk about?”
Molly sat down across from him and gathered her courage. “I want to talk about the deal you made with the Snow Queen. To save the Cove.”
Old Man Winter grunted. “What about it?”
So that’s the way this is going to go? Molly’s eyes hardened. “I don’t think it’s fair at all that you can condemn a place to death without even coming into town to see the people you’re going to destroy.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, picking up his mug and sipping. Apparently he liked the tea, because he took a long drink of it. “I won’t kill anyone. Just destroy the Gate.”
“Just.” Molly jumped on the word. “Do you know how many people come to the Cove through that Gate? If you destroy it, you’ll destroy the heart and soul of this town, which will kill it. Completely. And you don’t even know anything about us.”
“I know humans are destructive beasts,” Old Man Winter countered. “Ask your feline friend about the dragon he met last night. She nearly died because of humans.”
“So you’d condemn the entire race for a few?” Molly said, heat rising in her cheeks. “He also told me that Drew helped save her! She said so!”
“Because I dragged him along.”
Because you couldn’t touch the iron trap, Schrodinger corrected him. You needed him.
“Semantics,” Old Man Winter said, but Molly heard the change in his voice. A chuckle? Maybe. If it was, it was buried pretty deep. “I have no need to come to the Cove.”
“Yes, you do.” Molly leaned over the table to make her next point. “So I’ve got a deal for you.”
Old Man Winter looked at her. “What?”
“Come with me to a few things around the Cove before Christmas,” Molly said. “Let me show you this town you’re so bent on teaching a lesson. After all, if we’re as bad as all that, this should only stiffen your resolve. What’s the harm?”
They stared at each other again for a long, long moment, and Molly saw the wheels turning in his head. Would he go for it? Or would he get up and leave?
He finally looked down at the tray in between them. “What are these?”
“Sugar cookies, peppermint candy cane cookies, and orange cranberry scones,” Molly said. “Please, have some.”
Old Man Winter picked up a scone and bit into it. Molly watched his face soften for just a moment as the sweet, citrusy pastry melted in his mouth. Just a moment, but when he looked up again, the scowl wasn’t quite so harsh. “Good,” he grunted grudgingly.
“I’ll send you home with some.”
“Boy didn’t mention you were a kitchen witch,” he said, after he finished the scone.
“He doesn’t know you’re coming,” Molly said.
“Sure he does. Someone told him the other day.” Old Man Winter took a brightly-frosted sugar cookie and bit into it. Molly had spiked the sugar cookies with lemon rind and thyme, and the scowl fractured a bit more. Two more cookies, and he might actually smile, she thought.
“Do we have a deal?” she asked out loud, ignoring the comment about Drew. She had a pretty good idea who’d told him, but it didn’t really matter.
He took a drink of tea before he finally nodded. “Yes, we have a deal, little witch. I’ll come around with you.”
“Good.” Molly smiled brightly at him. “Then meet me back here tomorrow at 6 pm.”
“Why?” He looked warily at her.
“Because we’re going to the ballet.”
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Molly and Schrodinger cleaned up quickly that night. She was exhausted, not just from the strain of meeting Old Man Winter (who had actually thanked her for the tea and cookies, and seemed pleased with the box of pastries she’d pressed upon him), but from the interrogation from Aunt Margie afterward.
The front door had barely closed behind Old Man Winter when Aunt Margie had come barreling into the kitchen, demanding “What just happened? Why was he here?”
“He was here because I invited him,” Molly replied, putting a fresh cup of tea in front of her aunt and refilling the tray of cookies. Old Man Winter had quite the sweet tooth, it turned out. “We had a very civilized conversation.”
“About?”
Molly had been debating how much she was going to actually tell her aunt ever since Schrodinger had come back and said Old Man Winter would meet with her. She could try and lie, but no one had ever successfully lied to Aunt Margie for any length of time. Besides, she’d probably be listening at the door again.
So Molly didn’t even try. She explained the entire situation to her aunt, including the fact that the news was not for public consumption. “Because really, no one needs to know that this guy might blow up our Gate,” she said, and Aunt Margie had agreed. However, after both conversations, Molly was looking forward to a nice quiet night at home with a book and a bottle of wine.
She and Schrodinger went out the front door after calling goodbyes to Aunt Margie (who was staying late to catch up on some bookkeeping). Molly blessed the forethought that had made her pack both her gloves and her thick wool mittens; the temperature had dropped rapidly once the sun went down, and there was a bitter bite to the air. She wrapped the scarf her mother had knit her around her face and turned to head down the street.
Are you sure you’re warm enough? Molly thought at Schrodinger. It was too cold to actually talk.
Yes. He was wearing the coat she’d bought him for Christmas last year, but he’d steadfastly refused to let her put boots on him. Schrodinger started to say something else, but paused, one foot lifted. Do you hear that?
Molly stopped and listened hard. Bells?
Those aren’t St. Michael’s bells, Schrodinger said.
No, they’re sleigh bells! Molly looked around. The roads were icy enough that Doc Robbins’ sleigh had no problems coming down the lane towards them. Except it wasn’t Doc’s sleigh.
This sleigh was drawn by two elegant black horses, decked in silver and black barding, and the young man who drove it was bundled up more than either of them. Pavel grinned down at them from the back where he was snuggled under a massive amount of fur and blankets. “Can I interest you in a ride?”
Molly and Schrodinger willingly climbed aboard and snuggled down with him. “Did Drew send you?” Molly asked, pulling her scarf down. Down in the back of the sleigh, protected from the wind by the high sides of the sleigh, it was a little warmer.
“Of course,” Pavel replied. “He would have come himself, but, well…”
“I wonder what I can get Jade to do for us to make up for this,” Molly mused, and Pavel laughed.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I think you managed to give her quite a start today!”
“It’s good for her.”
Pavel laughed again, and then shouted something to the driver in a language that Molly didn’t recognize. The horses leapt forward.
For the next hour, Pavel took Molly and Schrodinger on a tour of the entire town, looking at the Christmas lights and decorations that twinkled in the clear night air. Despite herself, Molly had to admit it was fun.
When he dropped them off in front of their building, Pavel pressed a package into Molly’s hand, and murmured softly, “Just be careful, Molly. Old Man Winter is not to be trifled with.”
Molly pulled her mitten off and carefully extracted the ornament from the box. Looking at the gold and silver beads caught around the glass ball, she said, “Neither am I.”