off her to-do list and only a matter of hours in which to do them. Explaining her decision would take time, and right now, she didn’t have a lot to spare.
“Are you sure? Maybe you could tell him after the holidays,” her mother suggested. “Might be easier on you too, dear.”
She glanced at her watch. “Actually, I need to tell him tonight. I have to”—she was going to say “leave” but decided she’d tell her parents face-to-face at dinner tonight. “I need to make a couple of pit stops before I head home, so I’ll be a little late.”
“Of course, dear, and don’t forget your dad’s cereal,” her mother added, resuming her cheerful tone. “I’ll hold off serving dinner until you’re home.”
“Thanks,” Lauren said, and ended the call.
Where to begin, she thought, as she glanced around the store. Though it wasn’t quite closing time, Lauren decided to close early, given the errands she had to take care of before heading home. An hour wouldn’t matter one way or the other. She seriously doubted they’d have an onslaught of customers this late in the day. Hurrying to the entrance before she could change her mind, she flipped the sign over, letting possible customers know they were closed for the day. She checked the shelves of shirts, smoothed a bright red one on top of the pile, tucked a few stray branches back in place on the artificial tree in the window, then shut off the gas fireplace. She’d make sure to leave a note for Maggie, telling her she could bump the thermostat up as high as she needed to keep warm. Lauren kept the temperatures as low as she could, using the gas fireplace to make up the difference, plus she always dressed in several layers to stay warm. Maggie was doing her a huge favor. No way would she ask her to play miser in regard to the store’s enormous electric bills. The building was old, and the insulation all but gone. Someday, she would make the necessary repairs to the building, but for now, she’d live with tossing an extra bit of cash toward the utilities.
In her office, she recorded a new message for the answering machine, tidied the desk, and wrote another note for Maggie, reminding her they didn’t have Internet service at the store, and if she needed to go online, she could use the pharmacy’s next door, explaining she had Wilbur’s permission to do this and leaving the password—which reminded her, she had to stop off at the cable company for the boxes she’d ordered. While she wouldn’t have time to install the service here, she would do so at home. After she told her dad about her new contract.
Glancing around to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, she grabbed her purse and keys, and, locking the door behind her, she stepped out into the brisk afternoon air. In her car, she shivered as she waited for the engine to warm up so she could switch the heat on. Maybe it was time for a new car. It took this old Honda forever to warm up, even after Jimmy’s tune-up. “Maybe later,” she said, shifting into reverse and heading to Threads, a locally owned clothing shop she liked to frequent. The prices were fair and the styles up to date. Lauren found an empty parking spot in front of the store and reached for her purse, checking inside to make sure she had her debit card. Last time she’d been to Threads, she’d had to ask Claire Conroy, the owner, to hold her purchase as she’d hoofed it back to the shop, where she had carelessly tossed her card on her desk. Inside, she was greeted by Bing Crosby’s “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.”
“Be right there,” Claire called from the back of the store, her Irish accent music to Lauren’s ears.
“It’s just me,” Lauren called out as she eyed a rack of puffer jackets.
She heard a tinkle of laughter. “Have a look about, lass.”
Lauren grinned. Claire called everyone “lass” or “lad,” no matter their age. Cracked her up, as Claire was around her age and had lived in Fallen Springs since she was a teenager.
“Will do,” Lauren called out as she perused the jackets. She wasn’t sure of Charlotte’s size, so she’d have to wing it, which should be easy enough since they were similar in build. She removed a charcoal-gray jacket from its hanger. Hanging her purse on the end of