Moonstone: A Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance Novella (Jewels Cafe Book 11) Page 3

  Knowing there was no point trying to interrupt or change his process—she’d had over thirty years of this, after all—Ginny joined in. Before long, the living room looked like a Christmas shop had exploded into it.

  They piled all the cardboard boxes up in a corner, then stood off to one side to survey what they had. Her father had always maintained the easiest and best way to figure out how to decorate was to assess all the items, then figure out where they should go. Ginny and her mother had always found it an incredibly untidy—and occasionally dangerous to the soles of one’s feet—way of doing things, but it made Charlie happy, so it was a small sacrifice to make, and it all got done in the end.

  Deborah swept into the room, tea tray in her hands, Santa hat restored to her head, and Christmas music growing louder as she came closer.

  Ginny hurriedly cleared a space on the coffee table, removing her box before her mother tried to take a sneaky peek. “Thanks, Mum.”

  Deborah put the tray down, then removed her phone and speaker from each of her pockets before placing them next to the tray. George Michael’s dulcet tones rang out into the room, loud enough to be heard, but not so they couldn’t hear each other speak. “Bloody hell, Charlie, what a mess,” she exclaimed, looking around at the riot of color and glitter.

  “Not for long, love. Not for long. We’ll soon have this place looking spectacular.” He gave a little jump on the spot, making his Santa hat pom-pom bob once more.

  Her face melting into a smile for her husband, she replied, “I don’t doubt it. We’ve always done a good job, and now we’ve got Ginny back on the team again, I reckon it’s going to be the best display yet.”

  “Well,” Ginny put in, “before we start, I want to show you something. Sit down.” She indicated one of the sofas.

  Clearly eager to find out what their surprise was, the pair hurried over and sat side by side, then peered up at Ginny with a mixture of expectancy and excitement.

  Ginny smiled, then held out the box. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you,” her parents chorused. Charlie took the box and laid it on his lap, then Deborah made short work of opening it. To begin with, they were none the wiser as to its contents, given all they could see was white tissue paper. But Deborah soon dug through the layers of protection and unearthed the contents. She pulled out a small item wrapped in more tissue paper. She carefully undid it, then gasped as the surprise was revealed.

  “Oh,” she said, clapping her free hand over her mouth before tilting her other hand so Charlie could see what she’d got.

  “Oh, Moony.” Charlie glanced up at her, his eyes shining. “This is wonderful.”

  She waved a hand towards the box. “Keep going. You ain’t seen nothing yet.” She smirked to herself at having parroted his own words back to him, especially since he was so excited he didn’t seem to notice.

  After a while, they were surrounded by white tissue paper and were examining all of the brand-new Christmas tree ornaments Ginny had bought for them in turn. “These really are gorgeous, Ginny,” her mother said, holding up a wood log slice which had been laser engraved with the words Merry Christmas. A bright-red ribbon had been threaded through a tiny hole at the top so it could hang from a branch of their tree. “So unique.”

  Nodding, she replied, “I thought they were appropriate, given your rustic surroundings. I got them from this amazing craft market on the Southbank a few weeks ago. I saw them and couldn’t resist. Have you found—”

  She didn’t get chance to finish her question, because her father gave an excitable squeak. “Deborah, look! This one’s got my name on it.” The wood log slice dangling from its ribbon on his finger read Charlie.

  “We’ve got one each, as well as the ones with the more generic Christmassy sentiments,” Ginny said.

  “Really?” Charlie carefully riffled through the others. “So we have. Here, love.” He handed one to his wife, then held another out to his daughter. “These really are beautiful. Some serious skill and talent has gone into this. Not to mention thought.” He met Ginny’s eyes and gave her a huge smile. “Thank you, kiddo. These are perfect.”

  “You’re very welcome. I’m glad you like them.” She jerked her head towards the tree. “Shall we get started then? Otherwise it’ll be midnight before we tuck into that stew. And there’s no way I’m going to last that long. I’ll end up falling asleep face down in my bowl.”

  The three of them sprang into action. Deborah carefully laid all the new ornaments on the coffee table, then swept the mound of tissue paper into the box they’d come out of before putting it with the other boxes. Then she started pouring tea.

  Charlie grabbed the end of a string of lights and began the task of untangling them.

  Ginny picked her way carefully across the floor, not wanting to break anything or get stabbed in the foot—even through the fluffy slippers she was wearing, some of those things would hurt. These decorations were all new to her, so she wanted to see exactly what was there. Spotting a garland that was clearly meant for the fireplace, she bent and retrieved it. She had to start somewhere.

  The three of them fell into a comfortable, productive silence, pausing in their tasks briefly to sip tea as the Christmassy tunes played in the background. They soon had the tree decked in lights, strings of tiny colored balls, hanging decorations her parents had picked up over the last five years and, of course, the brand-new ones Ginny had brought over. The three log slices with their names on were close to each other—with Charlie and Deborah on adjacent branches, with Ginny hanging just beneath. A family tree with a difference.

  “Awww,” Deborah said, then took the last gulp of her tea before returning her cup to the table. “That looks fabulous. Almost done. Just the tree topper to go.”

  “Oh, of course,” Ginny said, looking around. “Where is it?”

  Charlie waved something, catching her attention. “I’ve got it here, Moony. But I’d love it if you could do us the honor of placing it on the tree. That’s one bonus of having a shorter tree this year, eh? You can reach?” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “Oi, less of that, Dad, or Santa won’t bring you any presents. I’m small but perfectly formed, all right?”

  “You are that, my darling. You are that.”

  Instantly forgiving her Dad’s teasing, she took the silver, glitter-encrusted star from his hand, then kissed his cheek. “I would be delighted.”

  “Thank you, kiddo.”

  The star clutched in her hand, she made her way to the tree then carefully stretched up to place the final decoration at its tip. She settled it into place, did a final bit of titivation, then stepped back to inspect their handiwork. The lights flashed merrily—even more striking now it had gone fully dark outside—the reflections glinting off all the shiny surfaces. It was pretty, cheerful, and incredibly festive. She insinuated herself between her parents, slipped an arm around each of their waists, and hugged them close. They wrapped their arms around her, too, and the three of them embraced tightly, watching the flash, flash, flash of the tree lights. An overwhelming sense of contentment, of belonging, filtered its way from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. “God, I’ve missed this.”

  “Me too, love,” came the reply from both sides.

  Chapter Five

  Deborah looked Ginny over anxiously, seeming to go through a mental checklist as she did so. “You’ve got your walking boots on, plenty of layers, coat, hat, scarf, gloves… You’ve got your phone, haven’t you? Does it even work here? Have you checked? Here, let me phone it and make sure it goes through—”

  “Mum!” Ginny put a hand on her mother’s arm, stopping her from retrieving her phone from her pocket. “I’m going in to town, not to the moon. If you’re so worried, why don’t you come with me?”

  Deborah paused for a moment, biting her lip. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I can’t. I promised your father I would help him put up the outside Christmas lights this morning, before the snow comes. You will keep an eye on th
e sky, won’t you? If it starts looking ominous, you’ll head home straight away? We don’t want you getting stranded in a blizzard. There is one in the forecast, remember?” She wrinkled her nose. “Perhaps give one of us a call when you’re ready to come back, and we could come and collect you? We should be done with the lights in a couple of hours—depending on how long it takes to untangle and check the damn things.”

  “Honestly, Mum, I’ll be all right. Please stop panicking. My phone works just fine, and I’m wearing so many layers I can barely walk. The most danger I’m in is probably sweating to death. And besides, I’ve been okay in London for the last five years, haven’t I?”

  “Ye-es, but London doesn’t get snow like we do here. You’re not used to it. It’s so deep, and you’re not familiar with the land—”

  “Mum,” she said again, giving her mother’s arm a squeeze. “I won’t be going through any deep snow, though, will I? The driveway and the roads are clear, so I’ll stick to those. I’m in enough bright colors that any oncoming traffic will easily be able to see me walking at the edge of the road. I will be careful, and I will be fine. Okay?” She paused. Her mother wasn’t usually this jittery, this anxious, so she decided to concede a little. It was Christmas Eve, after all. “Tell you what, Mum. I’ll drop you a quick text once I hit the center of town to let you know I got there in one piece. Then I’ll text again when I’m heading back, so you know roughly when to expect me. If the weather turns earlier than expected, though, I’ll phone you for a lift. How’s that?”

  Deborah sagged as she exhaled heavily. “That works for me, sweetheart.” She gave a wry smile. “I don’t mean to be so overbearing. It’s just that, well, you hear stories about folk getting stranded in blizzards and whatnot, and I don’t want it to happen to you.”

  “I’m not going to take any risks, Mum. I promise. Now, I’d better go. Time’s getting on. I want to make sure I’m there and back again before this dreaded snowstorm. You sure you don’t need me to pick anything up while I’m there?”

  Her mother nodded. “Positive. Just go and enjoy yourself, love. Have a bit of an explore. I should think everywhere will be open today—it’s like at home, Christmas Eve is just a regular day.” She rolled her eyes. “I think that’s one thing your dad does miss about London, you know—all those places practically on our doorstep, open until late on Christmas Eve. Being out here has certainly made him rethink his last-minute shopping ideas, that’s for sure. I mean, there are some wonderful little shops in town—and an amazing new café—as you’ll find out for yourself, but let’s just say it’s not the same as hitting Oxford Street.”

  “I look forward to checking them out. See you later, Mum. And you guys be careful, too. I don’t want to get back and find out either of you have tumbled off a ladder or something.” She leaned in and kissed Deborah’s cheek, then opened the door, already bracing herself for the cold. It hit her as she stepped out, whooshing against her cheeks and making them sting. She hurriedly pulled the door closed behind her, not wanting to let chilly air into the house.

  Ginny got to the bottom of the steps, then peered up at the sky. It was a bit of a wishy-washy day. Not sunny, but not gloomy, either. A few pale clouds scudded overhead in the wind—which was definitely more than what one would call a breeze—while darker ones hunched together on the horizon. Probably they were clinging on to the blizzard that was due later on. Well, as long as it held off for at least a couple of hours, everything would be fine. Once she returned to the retreat after her trip to town, neither she nor her parents had any need to leave again for a handful of days at least, thanks to the epic grocery store trip her father had described.

  Hunching her shoulders against the cold, Ginny began her journey into the center of Silver Springs. She paused for a few moments when she reached the part of the driveway which sat alongside the eponymous springs, fascinated to see the steam rising up without a car window in between. A little shudder raced through her at the thought of stripping down to swimwear in this weather, even if it meant bathing in water as hot as the average bath—maybe hotter. It seemed nuts—and indeed, her parents had been described as such on multiple occasions, by many people—but if they were going for a swim a couple of times a week, all year round, then it had to be okay, didn’t it? It certainly hadn’t done them any harm. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  When standing still in the cold became too uncomfortable, Ginny gave the clear waters one last glance, then turned away and resumed her journey. She resolved to have a dip before she went home—if her sixty-plus parents could do it, then so could she. She’d have to keep an eye out for a shop which sold swimwear. If she had no luck, she’d just have to go in in a bra and knickers, instead.

  Moments later, she left her parents’ property and continued onto the road. As she’d expected, the last lot of snowfall had been ploughed up into mounds that sat on the pavements either side of the road, making them difficult, if not impossible, to walk on. So she stuck with her plan of trudging down the side of the road—remembering at the last minute that if she wanted to obey the rule of facing oncoming traffic that she needed to be on the opposite side to where she would be at home.

  She stuck to the thicker piles of snow where possible, figuring it would be less slippery than areas where car tires had compacted it, then it had frozen over. Her strategy served her well, and she reached the center of town—having easily followed her parents’ directions—in around forty minutes, with no incidents. She estimated that outside of the winter months, with no snow and ice to contend with, she could easily shave ten minutes off that time, if not more.

  Still, she was here, in Silver Springs proper, and her first impressions were favorable—incredibly favorable. It was an attractive area, with charming cobblestoned pavements, strings of fairy lights, and a warm, welcoming atmosphere. As she’d expected, the roads and pavements were much clearer here and, although she wouldn’t entirely let her guard down in case of black ice, she could at least take in more of her surroundings as she walked, rather than intently staring at the ground to make sure she avoided hazards. But first, she needed to send the promised text message to her mother, before she started panicking. She pulled her right glove off with her teeth, then rooted around in the pocket of her thick coat for her phone. Once she’d retrieved it, she hurriedly unlocked the screen, then tapped out a quick note to Deborah, letting her know she’d arrived in town. She waited for a moment to make sure it had sent, before locking the device, stuffing it into her pocket, then dragging her glove back on. Even that small amount of time without it had caused her fingers to tingle.

  Daughterly duty complete, Ginny wandered around the slice of small-town America, drinking in the sights, exchanging polite smiles and nods with people she passed, doing a spot of window shopping, and soon reaching the conclusion that there was quite a bit going on. As her mother had said, it wasn’t exactly Oxford Street—but then who wanted it to be? This wasn’t so bad—not really what she’d expected at all. In fact, it was idyllic, unique in its own way, with its library, veterinary clinic, diner, newspaper office, jewelry store, ice cream shop, tech repair place, shoe shop, bakery, and café. To her surprise, she’d even spotted a sex toy shop, a nightclub, and somewhere selling Wiccan stuff. Maybe her parents weren’t the wackiest folks in town, after all. Maybe they fitted right in.

  Having had a thorough explore of the downtown area—observing quite a few harassed-looking people who were scurrying around for last-minute gifts as she did so—Ginny decided to go and check out the café. Her mother had said it was new, and had described it as ‘amazing’—so that was a good enough excuse for Ginny to grab a drink before she made her way back to the retreat.

  She thought for a moment, trying to remember which way to go. Fortunately, her sense of direction—one of her most useful skills—kicked in and within minutes she was outside Jewels Café. Its gray awnings and potted plants—at least she assumed there were plants beneath the snow on the planters—were just as we
lcoming as the rest of the town, as were the holiday decorations. If Ginny had been dithering about whether to go in or not—which she wasn’t—the weathered sandwich board outside the café, with its message written in chalk, would have clinched the deal in a heartbeat. It read:

  Now Serving: Pumpkin Spice Lattes

  There was also a cute, hand-drawn picture of a cup complete with whipped cream on the chalkboard.

  Ginny smiled. How could she possibly resist that? She loved pumpkin spice lattes. And a lovely warm drink in her belly definitely wouldn’t go amiss right now.

  She approached the door, stamped her feet to knock the snow from her boots, then made her way inside, the warmth and mesmerizing scents hitting her immediately as she was swallowed into the chic, modern interior.

  Chapter Six

  Pumpkin spice latte in hand, Ginny emerged onto the street. Her mother had been absolutely right, Jewels Café was indeed amazing, but she was all too aware of getting back to the retreat before the snow began. Hence her requesting her drink to go. Some other time, she’d happily settle down in the café and do a spot of people-watching, but not today. Not with a blizzard coming.

  She glanced down at the paper cup, her heart skipping a beat when she spotted the image on the side. She’d fully expected branding, of course, and it was called Jewels Café—but what were the chances that the cups would have a whitish gem on the side, resembling a moonstone?

  Ginny smiled. A café that gave out cups with her mother’s favorite jewel on the side? No wonder Deborah thought the place was so brilliant. She was probably their best customer.

  Shaking her head and chuckling to herself, Ginny strolled through the downtown area in the direction of the road back to her parents’ place. A look at the darkening sky told her she didn’t need to rush, but nor should she dawdle, so she opted for something in between. She paused briefly to send another message to her mother to let her know she was on her way, and didn’t need a lift, then continued on. Her latte was soon the perfect temperature to drink, so she began sipping the delicious-smelling liquid as she walked, savoring the tantalizing flavor as it flowed over her tongue, and the warmth as it traveled down her throat and into her tummy. Mmm. God, this is good. In fact, she thought for a second, before making the vitally important statement, even though it was only inside her head, I think this could be the best damn latte I’ve ever had. And I’ve had a lot of lattes.