“Iona?”
She shook her head to clear it, forced a smile and looked over at Cici. “Sorry, what were you saying?” Iona asked.
Cici looked tired, as was to be expected since she had a two-week-old baby, but also glowy … was that even a word? But she did. Also Cici looked happy. Happier than Iona had ever seen her. She was getting ready to celebrate so much in her life.
“I was just inviting you to a dinner party on Saturday evening.”
“Should you be entertaining already?”
“Well, if you must know Hoop’s friend Alfonso is giving us an evening of cooking as an early wedding present and he said to invite our closest friends and that includes you.”
“Of course, I’ll be there.”
Cici blushed, nibbled her lower lip, cleared her throat and then finally just sighed. “Should I put you down as one or will you be bringing someone?”
This was exactly why she had wanted the matchmaking to work out. Everyone else in their circle was paired up. In the past she could have invited Theo along, but now he had a partner too. “Put me down for two. I’ll find someone to bring along.”
“I will, you know it’s fine if it’s just you. It really is going to just be our closest friends … in fact Xavier — you remember him? He works with Garrett on the force … he’s single and he’ll be there,” Cici said.
She shook her head. Xavier was still in love with his ex-wife. Anyone who’d spent ten minutes talking to him could easily see that. Xavier was a detective who worked with Hayley’s fiancé and had been divorced for a year. “You should invite his ex. He still loves her.”
“Really?”
“Yes. He did nothing but talk about her at the cook-out that Garrett and Hayley had at Labor Day weekend.”
“Interesting. I think he has two kids. Maybe I’ll suggest we make it family-friendly,” Cici said. “But that still leaves us stuck for someone for you.”
“I said I’d bring someone,” Iona said firmly. “And I will.”
“Okay,” Cici said, reaching across the small table and putting her hand on Iona’s. “I was hoping that things would have worked out with Nico.”
“Me too,” she said. Cici and Hoop had gone on her first date with the Greek millionaire.
“Are you two having fun without me?” Hayley said, coming from the back of the store and her candy kitchen.
“I thought you were in the kitchen concocting greatness,” Iona replied.
Hayley’s blonde hair had grown out since last January, when she’d shorn it all off, and it now brushed her shoulders. She had on a pair of leggings and a thick tunic sweater. “As a matter of fact, I had a genius idea for a new truffle that I have made some samples of. And I need your opinions.”
Hayley put a small plate on the table between the three of them. There were six truffles lined up in white, milk, and dark chocolate.
“Ooo … what’s inside?” Cici asked.
“I don’t want to say, but I’m calling it Christmas Morning,” Hayley said. “I’m not sure which one works the best: white, milk, or dark. All opinions are welcome. I have a batch ready for the staff to try and rank as well.”
There were times like this when Iona almost had to pinch herself at the success they’d made of their little candy shop. It had started as an idea they’d had and grown into so much more than she’d expected. She listened to her two friends talking and closed her eyes for a moment to thank God for the blessed life she had.
“Iona, which one do you want to try first?” Hayley asked.
“Which one do you recommend?” Iona asked her friend.
“Knowing your tastes run to dark and spicy, I’d say you should try the dark one first. Cici, definitely milk for you.”
They ate chocolate and chatted about the truffles and Iona reminded herself that her life was full as it was. Hers was hectic and busy, but that didn’t stop her from thinking about Mads at odd moments. And what had the kiss been about last night?
She’d tried not to dwell on it; it was only a kiss after all, but it didn’t seem that way today. As she left the candy shop, walking home toward her apartment on the Upper East Side she couldn’t help but remember Mads and the look in his eyes when he’d lifted his head.
A little zing went through her. The snow was lightly falling as she entered her building and she smiled at the doorman, who wished her good evening.
Then she thought about little Sofia, who was struggling to figure out what she believed in and find her way this holiday season, remembering how Mads was unsure if he was doing a good job.
Complicated.
***
Sofia wasn’t in the mood to be cooperative on Tuesday morning and Mads was running out of patience. He tried to be even-tempered and to give his daughter a break most of the time but she was being a little bit bratty this morning. Jessie’s fever had returned overnight so Mads was on dad duty, which was one of his favorite things. Normally.
But he hadn’t slept well last night; fevered dreams of Iona had kept him awake. He had some outside plumbers coming to the Common to evaluate the leak at nine and he’d hoped to get there before they did. But something was up with his daughter.
She hadn’t wanted to eat her breakfast and then when he’d put away the muffins that he’d set out originally, she’d changed her mind. But by then he was losing patience with her and told her she’d have to have cereal. Which she had taken her time selecting from the four choices in the pantry. Then he’d had to stand over her while she slowly ate every bit of the cereal she’d insisted she wanted.
Now she couldn’t leave for school unless she had two French braids.
“What’s wrong with one braid?” Mads asked.
“Papa, I wore my hair that way yesterday. And today it has to be two.”
Mads was looking down at the top of his daughter’s head, completely unsure what to do. He was tempted to go and see if Jessie felt well enough to braid Sofia’s hair, but she’d been pale when he’d dosed her up with ibuprofen so he was on his own. He also had contractors coming at eight-thirty, by which time Sofia would be late for school.
“Sof, I don’t know if I can do it.”
“You can, Papa. You’re a problem-solver,” she said.
True.
“That’s right, I am,” he said, lifting her off her feet and nuzzling a kiss against the top of her head. He’d do this and maybe figure out what was going on with Sofia at the same time.
“Did you Google it?” he asked.
“I did,” she said.
She held up her tablet and he glanced down. It was just braiding, right? Gill had shown him the basics when they both had realized that her illness wasn’t going to go away and one day he’d have to do this. He brushed Sofia’s dark curly hair, which made it frizz out around her head, and Sofia started laughing and he had to chuckle as well when he looked down at her.
“How’s that? Want to go to school looking like this?”
“Papa, you’re too silly.”
“I know,” he said and read the instructions and then started working on the braids. They were uneven from the top side, but they were done.
“Thanks!”
“You’re welcome. Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“Just gotta grab my bag … oh, and there was a note for you,” she said, digging in her bag.
This time of year, there were all kinds of notes coming home from school, so he was expecting to see a copied note to the entire class, not a handwritten notecard addressed to him.
“What is this?”
She shrugged but looked guilty. “I don’t know. And we have to go or we will be late.”
He opened the envelope as she urged him out of their apartment and toward the elevator.
He glanced down at the first line of the note.
“You were fighting?”
“Not really.”
“Not really? Sof, this note says otherwise.”
“It was about Santa.”
Mads sighed. He hit the stop button on the elevator. He stooped down to eye level with his daughter. “What happened?”
“Remy said that maybe I was naughty and that’s why Santa doesn’t come to me,” Sofia said.
“What did you say to that?” Mads asked.
She heaved a big sigh. “I’m not naughty.”
“What happened next?” Because as responsible as this all sounded, he had a note in his hand that stated it was more than a conversation.
“He said Of course you’d say that.”
Sofia looked down at the floor of the elevator car.
“Then?” Mads prompted.
“I told him I’m not naughty, just smart, and that’s probably what was confusing for him,” Sofia said. “He laughed at that and said something mean so I just … I kicked him, Papa. And then he said he barely felt my kick so I kicked him again even harder and that’s when Miss Pembroke came over.”
“Sofia,” Mads said, drawing his daughter into his arms. “Did he hit or kick you?”
“No. He said he’s not allowed to hit girls,” Sofia said.
“That’s good. You shouldn’t hit boys, or anyone, for that matter. Did you apologize?” he asked.
“No. I don’t feel bad about kicking him,” Sofia admitted. “He’s not a very nice boy.”
“Then don’t talk or play with him,” Mads said. “You’re going to have to apologize.”
“I know,” she said.
“Is that why you’ve been so difficult this morning?”
She nodded. He hugged her close to him. He hated that she had gotten into an argument. But there were going to be people who didn’t agree with her throughout her life so she probably needed to get used to dealing with conflict.
“I think we are supposed to stop by the principal’s office this morning,” he said.
“We are. But if you have to get to work I’ll let them know,” she said, twisting her hands together.
He pulled his phone out and texted the duty manager, who could handle the meeting until he got there. “I don’t. Nothing’s more important than you,” he said.
“I’m sorry, Papa.”
“It’s okay, Sof. Do you think maybe we should talk more about Santa?” he asked.
She put her hand on the side of his face like she did sometimes and looked him in the eyes. “No, Papa. We both know that miracles don’t exist.”
His heart broke wide open. She was so small, so young. He wished Sofia could still believe in miracles.
He scooped her up and hugged her close. He was doing the best he could and there were times when he really felt like he had no clue what he was doing at all.
It wasn’t a feeling he liked. And he knew he was never going to get used to it. He’d expected to raise his daughter with Gill. He’d figured he’d dote on her and spoil her. Not have to second-guess and question every decision he ever made.
The ride to school was filled with bouts of Sofia singing and then going quiet.
“Let’s go get this over with,” he said as they got out of the car in front of her school.
She slipped her hand into his as they walked into the school. He wanted to make Sofia’s life easier for her but he didn’t want her to ever think she couldn’t share her opinion. And he was proud of her standing up for herself. Up until she kicked the boy.
***
Iona did three press interviews in the morning and then arranged the new Christmas Morning truffles for a photo shoot in the back room. They had a service they used for the catalogue that they sent to their regular customers in the tri-state area but she had found that for the website her photos were just as good as the photographer’s. And since she needed something else on her plate to justify avoiding her mom and her brother, it made sense to take on more work.
Iona was upstairs where they held classes for couples who wanted to learn to make truffles. She had just about finished up when she heard footsteps on the stairs.
“Someone is here to see you,” Cici said from the doorway.
“Who?”
“Me,” Sofia said, stepping around Cici. “You remember Jessie?”
Jessie looked like the walking dead. Pale skin, red nose and she moved gingerly into the room. She seemed well medicated against whatever it was that had made her sick, but also tired. She was watching Sofia like someone who was afraid to let her guard down.
“Do you want to have a seat, Jessie?” Iona asked. “How about something hot to drink? We are famous for our cocoa, but you look like you could use a cup of tea.”
“I could. But we’re not supposed to be here and Sofia knows it. But she insisted,” Jessie said. “And she has a good reason, so I’ll just sit over here. Be quick, girly.”
Sofia nodded, then hurried to Iona’s side.
“Iona, I need your help. I got into a fight at school.”
She went down on her knee, putting her hand on Sofia’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I’m the one who kicked someone. Anyway, I need to apologize — even though I’m really not sorry …”
“Sofia,” Jessie said. “We’ve been over this. You have to write a note.”
Iona glanced at Jessie. She wanted more details but she could get them later. “How can I help?”
“Well, I wanted to see if I could get a box of candy to go along with my note,” Sofia said.
“Sure. Jessie, why don’t you wait for us in the Café area? I’m going to have Nick bring you a cup of tea and I’ll help Sofia pick out a box of chocolates.”
“Great. But our driver will be back in …” Jessie glanced down at her watch, “ten minutes, so make it quick.”
“We will,” Sofia said, slipping her hand into Iona’s.
Iona led the way down the stairs into the retail section. “What is this person like? Was it a boy or a girl?”
Sofia slipped her hand from Iona’s and walked over to the display boxes. “A boy. One who isn’t very smart and is mean. Do you have any chocolates like that?”
Iona had to hide her smile. “No. We don’t. Surely there is something that’s not awful about him. What’s his name?”
“Remy LeBeau.”
There was a note in Sofia’s voice that didn’t sound like anger. “Do you like him?”
“He said I was naughty, so I can’t like him now,” she said to Iona.
“Why would he say that? Because you kicked him?” Iona asked.
“No. Because I said Santa doesn’t visit me,” she said. “Papa said I can’t tell kids that he isn’t real. He said they had to figure it out on their own.”
She agreed with Mads on that front. But she had to wonder if he was happy about the fact that his daughter was getting into fights because of her beliefs about St. Nick. She guessed he wasn’t. But that wasn’t any of her business.
Chocolate was.
Iona looked around the retail shop when she had an idea. “Come with me into the kitchen.”
She held Sofia’s hand as they walked through the crowded shop and into the kitchen. Hayley was still working on her creations and overseeing her staff as they assembled the Christmas Morning truffles.
“Hayley, I need you.”
“Yes?” her friend asked, coming over and smiling at Sofia. “Hello.”
“Hi,” Sofia said.
“We need box of truffles for an apology gift; can you help us?” Iona asked.
Hayley raised one eyebrow but didn’t ask any questions. “I can. But I need the details. Is the gift for a boy or a girl?”
“A boy … a mean one,” Sofia said.
Hayley asked Sofia a few more questions as she moved around the kitchen, picking up different truffles until the box held six chocolates.
“I think he’ll like this,” Hayley said, handing the box to Sofia.
Iona took Sofia into her office to custom-make a card to go into the box. “Here’s a notecard for you to write your apology on.”
“Thanks.”
Sofia went to the guest table in her office and sat on the floor on her knees to write out the card. She worked over the note slowly and carefully, taking her time with her penmanship, studying her card as she wrote. The concentration in her expression reminded her of Mads.
“Done.”
“Great. Let’s get your chocolates and I’ll tie it up with a ribbon and you and Jessie can head home.”
“Thanks,” Sofia said.
She took care of everything and then Jessie paid for the chocolates and they left. Iona stood in the doorway watching them leave. Hayley came out in her chef’s whites and put her arm around Iona’s shoulders. “How do you know that precocious child?”
“Her dad is Mads Eriksson, CEO of the New York Common. She’s something else, isn’t she?” Iona asked, not wanting to talk about Mads.
“She is. Bet her father is too,” Hayley said.
“He is,” she admitted. She thought about Sofia and that boy from school calling her naughty. “Hay, can you make a spicy truffle?”
“Yes, why?”
“Well, wouldn’t it be fun to have a two-truffle gift box that was ‘naughty or nice’-themed?”
“I like it. I have some spicy chocolates that have a little bite to them but aren’t over the top. How does that sound?”
“Perfect,” Iona said. Hayley left to try different pairings and Iona told herself that coming up with a new marketing campaign was satisfying, but she knew that a little bit of it was the warm feeling she’d had when she’d had Sofia in the shop with her. She was starting to like that little family … maybe too much.