* * *
The sky outside the second-story of the bakery darkened to indigo, then to purple, and finally to black while Tora lay on her bed, trying to figure out what to do with the shambles of her life. On the scary, blurry drive home, she’d caught sight of pink flyers in the front window of just about every business in town. Except of course, those on the same street as Sugar & Spice. Townspeople knew well enough her habit of staying close to home. In her melancholy mood, she couldn’t decide if how well they knew her was totally pathetic or a little bit wonderful.
From the depths of her purse came the sounds of her phone chiming out notes like a xylophone. Could she face her best friend right now? Who better than Krissy when she was down? Tora flopped on her stomach and grabbed her phone. “Hi.” She glanced across the room at her bedside clock. “Yes, I’m going to the performance.”
“What’s wrong? You sound sad.” Krissy’s concern rode on the sound waves.
A familiar scratchiness attacked Tora’s throat and she swallowed hard. “Talked to Mama earlier. Just missing them both.” Oooh, if Gram heard me lying like this, she’d give me a finger-wagging lecture. The image of her own actions just hours ago surfaced. Oh my god, I’m becoming Gram.
“We’ll save you a seat in the bleachers. Look for us.”
For just a second, Tora let her arms go limp and hung her head over the edge of the bed. One of her favorite moping positions when she was a teenager. At that glimpse of her pouting attitude, she bounced up and moved to her closet. A quick flip through the hangers provided no inspiration. She dove for the plastic storage boxes under her shoes. No matter if she didn’t feel it inside, at least her outside would be decked out in holiday cheer.
With a flick of her wrists, she snapped out a red V-neck sweater shot with silver thread. Black jeans and boots, dangling ornament earrings, and her green crocheted scarf with matching mittens completed the holiday-colored outfit.