CHAPTER !
Gingerbread cookies and cranberry bread were baking in the vintage O’Keefe & Merritt oven, filling Ginger’s kitchen with the aromas of Christmas. Marina’s grandmother had asked her to oversee the holiday food preparation this year.
“Peppermint hot cocoa, mulled cider, or mocha coffee—what’s your pleasure?” Marina asked, turning to Jack.
Her husband grinned and leaned against the counter. Jack wore a silly Santa T-shirt, yet still managed to make it look good, with his bright blue eyes and thick hair that was a little longish. “How about an Irish coffee or a hot buttered rum?”
“I’m a chef, not a bartender. And you’re incorrigible,” she added, teasing him back.
“Yes, I am.” Grabbing her apron strings, Jack pulled her closer. “Hold that thought until we get home. Have I told you how hot you look in that apron?”
Laughing, Marina sank into his arms, kissing her husband back with all the love in her heart like the newlyweds they still were. She’d missed this closeness for many years—especially during the holidays.
Just then, her grandmother breezed into her kitchen, wearing a cranberry-red cashmere sweater over a wool skirt with black riding boots. “I thought I might find you two hiding here like teenagers.”
“I’m working,” Marina replied, feigning innocence. “Jack’s the instigator.”
Oliver stood in the doorway behind Ginger and kissed her cheek. “I heard this is the kissing room.”
“Not you, too,” Ginger said with mock reproach.
Marina laughed at their antics, pleased that her grandmother’s relationship with Oliver was developing. “I was planning the menu when Jack barged in looking for an Irish coffee.”
Oliver’s eyes brightened. “Put me down for one, too.”
Ginger sliced a hand through the air. “Absolutely not. No alcohol until the decorations have been put up. There is no room for silly shenanigans while you’re teetering on ladders, and I don’t want to end the evening at the emergency room—especially with Chip’s impressionable young sons. You must set an example for them.”
Oliver kissed her other cheek. “You’re a tough woman, Ginger Delavie. And you’re right.” He hooked his arms through hers. “Your elf volunteers are waiting outside for your orders. As am I,” he added softly.
A special look passed between them, and Marina wondered what that was about. Still, she reined in her thoughts. Ginger and Oliver were entitled to their secrets and plans.
“You and Jack are in charge,” Ginger said, her eyes sparkling. “Use your creativity, and let’s see what you can do.”
“That could be dangerous.” Jack put his hands on his hips. “But challenge accepted.”
Marina glanced outside, appreciating the sunlit beach this time of year. “Your brothers-in-law are waiting for you.”
Jack chuckled. “Axe and Chip hardly need a writer to help them with the heavy lifting.”
Marina nudged him toward the door. “I’m sure you can hold your own with them.” Brooke’s husband Chip was a firefighter, and Kai’s husband Axe was a general contractor, but Jack had been working out, too.
“Or Jack could chronicle the fiasco,” Oliver said, laughing.
Jack motioned to the older man. “Let’s strategize and supervise the others on the ladders. They can string the lights this year.”
“I have full confidence you’ll work it out,” Ginger said. “I’ll check on my helpers in the living room.”
Everyone left, and Marina glanced from the window. In her grandmother’s sunny yard, red bougainvillea, pink azaleas, and ivory roses were still in bloom, though beginning to wane with the cooler evenings.
Her sister Brooke had just helped Ginger plant a winter garden of lettuce, peas, broccoli, onions, and other root vegetables. Here in Southern California, they were lucky to garden most of the year.
After the sun set over the Pacific Ocean, a chill would fill the air, making it feel more like the holidays. Boots would replace flip-flops, and sweaters and jackets would be pulled over T-shirts. That’s when her piping hot drinks would warm the family crew of helpers Ginger had organized.
Marina removed the gingerbread cookies from the oven and transferred them to cool on a rack. Quickly, she washed her mixing bowls to join her grandmother and the other half of the decorating crew.
Her daughter Heather sorted through boxes of decorations on the dining table. Her sister Brooke was also unpacking items while her baby, little Clover, sat in a playpen watching with wide eyes. On Ginger’s orders, they all wore holiday colors for the photos they would take later. That was another tradition in the Delavie-Moore family.
“You still have more decorations in the garage,” Heather said, brushing glitter from her hands onto her jeans. “Blake is getting those boxes for me.”
“Good,” Ginger said. “Let’s pull out everything this year. What we don’t use, and you girls don’t want, we can give away. I have accumulated far too much over the years.”
“Maybe we could sell some at the holiday market,” Heather said. “Your vintage ornaments are beautiful. They’d fit right in.”
Marina smiled at her daughter’s entrepreneurial enthusiasm. This year, Marina’s youngest sister, Kai, was helping manage a new holiday market extension to the farmers market. Locals were selling beautiful, handcrafted items.
“If you like them, they would be lovely on your tree after you and Blake marry.” Ginger motioned to another carton. “Rather than selling anything, I prefer to donate items so other families can enjoy some holiday
sparkle. That goes for anything else I no longer need or use.”
Heather beamed. “I’d love that. Thank you.”
Marina opened a box to reveal vintage ornaments she’d packed last year. “Do you want to keep these?”
Ginger peered over her shoulder with a fond sigh. “Bertrand and I collected those while we lived in Europe. They’re beautiful, aren’t they? Each one has a story.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Marina began to unpack them.
She wasn’t surprised at her grandmother’s practicality. I’m being sensible, Ginger once told Marina when she appointed her as executor of her will. I want to make the process easy for everyone whenever my time comes, and you’re the most suited to the task.
As she extracted the delicate ornaments, Marina chewed her lip. Was Ginger simply decluttering, or was there another reason behind her actions?
Then, considering how happy Ginger looked lately, Marina had another thought. Perhaps she and Oliver are making plans for their future.
She couldn’t imagine Ginger giving up the Coral Cottage. Her husband Bertrand had given it to her as a wedding gift. Marina and her sisters had spent much of their lives here, especially after their parents died. Yet, she could understand Ginger’s actions. Many of her grandmother’s friends were downsizing or had moved to be close to their children.
Such was life, Marina knew. Still, Ginger was active, in excellent health, and even more vibrant with a new man in her life. Oliver wasn’t exactly new, though; Ginger had known him for years. ...
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