Cecelia Scott Hope Holloway - [Carolina Christmas 01] - The Asheville Christmas Cabin by Cecelia Scott Hope Holloway

Author:Cecelia Scott Hope Holloway [Holloway, Cecelia Scott Hope]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-27T05:00:00+00:00

“I know you’re busy with work, believe me, so I really do appreciate you joining me to take these trays to Sonny.” Aunt Elizabeth glanced over from the driver’s seat of a fairly new SUV, reminding Noelle that she hadn’t actually seen her aunt behind the wheel in many years. She was a “car and driver” kind of New Yorker, with preferred-customer status at the limo company.

Looked like those days were gone.

“Why does he need them?” she asked, glancing at the array of metal and porcelain trays in the backseat.

“Church fundraiser,” her aunt said, as if that explained it. “Am I taking you away from anything very important?”

“Still waiting for Monmouth to come through on a Yarrow McFarland painting. Oh, and I outbid Collier on a nice deal with a gallery in Chicago this morning,” Noelle said brightly, happy to get back on that track they used to share. “East End Gallery. Remember them?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Vaguely. I haven’t managed an art deal in forever, Noelle.”

“You’ve just…quit?”

“Well, I was an independent art consultant for nearly two decades. There was no actual ‘quitting’ involved. I just stopped looking for or accepting new business and deals.” She threw Noelle a smile. “I loved it, like you do, but I’m done now. It’s a nonstop life, twenty-four-seven with international clients. I’m happy to have it in my rearview mirror.”

“You don’t miss it?” Noelle asked.

“I have new things in my life,” she said calmly.

Noelle stifled a sigh. “I see that.”

“You see it, but don’t like it,” Elizabeth said. “Why don’t you come right out and say it, dear?”

“Because…” She threw her hands up, laughing dryly. “Okay. I’m just wondering what happened to the woman who taught me the joys of a solid work ethic, the importance of independence, and the value of a great haircut and good shoes.”

She snorted softly. “You don’t like my hair?”

“Actually, I love it. But it’s…different. I don’t like change.”

“Also,” Elizabeth added, “for the record, I did get a little frisson of envy when you showed up in those Loubies.”

“Thank you!” she exclaimed.

“But they ruined my feet and did a number on my bank account. And, honestly, I just don’t get the same joy from worldly things that I used to.”

Worldly? Noelle didn’t even know what that meant, really.

“But why did you decide to live here, in the very house you’ve spent the last two decades avoiding, giving up freedom and a stellar career?”

“I’m free,” she shot back. “Free from those shoes and that career and the things that I valued that will simply…end up in an attic covered with dust for Sawyer’s grandchildren to find. Things that simply don’t last. I have found something that spells eternity to me, and I like it.”

Noelle dropped her head back, closing her eyes to the view and trying to find the right and most honest words. “It’s hard for me,” she whispered.

“I realize that. It’s one of the reasons I invited you here, to experience the change in person.” She gave Noelle a gentle look.

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