Christmas in Angel Harbor - Jeannie Moon Page 0,82
the gesture was pure Gina. For her friend, food was love. No doubt, Jane’s taste buds would be happy. Her butt? Not so much. They reached the first landing and light from Claire’s apartment flooded into the hall, bright and cheerful. The warm yellow glow was sprinkled with color, a tell-tale sign she had her Christmas lights on.
“Come on, hurry yourselves. I have tea steeping.” Claire’s bright Irish lilt echoed in the stairwell. When they reached the landing, she didn’t hesitate and pulled Jane inside. “What were you thinking hiding out in that dark store? Everyone was worried sick about you.” Claire was pulling off Jane’s jacket like she was late for dinner. “Truly, Jane. I have no words for you.”
That was a lie considering the way Claire was giving her the business.
“Sit yourself down, and I’ll get you some tea.”
Jane settled into a large, comfortable floral chair near the window and dropped her head back, allowing her to see the snow falling outside. It was letting up, with only a few flakes visible in the streetlight. “I’m going to be okay, you know? It sucks, but I’ll survive. I just needed some time.”
“Understood,” Viti said. “And if I wanted to sleep on a bench in my bakery, I could do that. I don’t have people waiting for me at home, however. You do.”
She was right, of course. It was so out of character for Jane, it was no wonder her mom was worried. “I know.”
Jane accepted the large white mug from Claire. It was filled with the most delicious-smelling brew. Even in the beautiful apartment, with her friends there for support, Jane had felt like she might jump out of her skin. Hopefully, the tea would help, as the scent of peach, mint, and lemon began to soothe her frazzled nerves. “Thank you. It smells wonderful.”
Tracy sat on the side of the sofa adjacent to the chair. With an ease that came with over fifty years of friendship, she reached out and took Jane’s hand. “I get that you’re hurting, but you don’t have to deal with this alone.”
“I don’t know if that’s true. This is my problem. I’ll survive, but…” Of course she’d survive. Broken hearts weren’t fatal, but the heaviness in her chest told her it was going to be a long way back. “It sucks. I have no idea what I should do.”
“Jane, dearie,” Claire said softly, passing her a box of Viti’s famous snickerdoodles. “Why don’t you tell us what’s really upset you?”
“Really upset me? Do I need something else?” Jane immediately regretted her snippy comment, especially since her friends were being wonderfully understanding. With a sigh of resignation, she reached in the box and took a cookie. As she bit into the slightly crisp outside, the buttery cinnamon goodness filled her mouth. The act of chewing gave her some time to think. Not that she needed it. For the past few days all she did was think.
Swallowing, she looked each one of her friends in the eyes. They were all so different, with backgrounds as diverse as the quilt squares Claire was sorting for her next class. “I…I don’t like myself very much right now. I’ve been bitchy and inconsiderate. I have a list of apologies to make, but I am going to be fine. I have money put away. I won’t be homeless or anything. I just won’t have…my store. My whole life was wrapped up in the shop. Tara is going away to college, my mother will be gone, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Tracy nibbled the edge of a chocolate chip cookie. “You’re allowed to feel like crap. I know I do, but taking your crap out on the people who love you is counterproductive. You know that.”
“I know.” That was one of the reasons she hadn’t gone home. Jane had been hell to live with for the last few days, and she felt guilty bringing all her baggage down on her mom and Tara. On top of that, she’d blown up any hope of a relationship with Danny, and that made her heart hurt more than she thought possible.
Claire put the quilt squares in a box and then sat on the floor with a skein of soft green yarn in her lap. Rhythmically, methodically, she began rolling it into a ball. Jane knew they had contraptions for that particular job, but Claire was most at peace when her hands were moving. She started by wrapping the end