Hannah draped white twinkle lights with way more care than was really necessary until she could get her reaction under control. “I had some health problems that necessitated I leave my job in Atlanta last year. My sister was kind enough to let me stay with her while I got back on my feet, and Mama Pearl has been awesome enough to give me a job. So yeah, I work at the diner, for now.”
“Well, I’m just gonna say your talents are wasted,” Reed declared. “I wish you’d let me pay you in more than filched snacks from the knitting club.”
Hannah flashed him a smile. “That’s not what this was about. I wanted the opportunity to use my skills for fun to spread some Christmas cheer and advertise my capabilities. You’re taking a chance on me by letting me do this.” And, okay, maybe part of this whole thing was about reminding herself that she still had the skills. The last year had been a massive earthquake to her confidence. But already she had two more appointments to discuss holiday window displays—one with Brides and Belles and another with Edison Hardware.
“I’m definitely getting the better end of the deal. And at the very least you permanently have the friends and family discount for whatever you buy.”
“Deal. Which works out well because I’ll be back for some Christmas shopping.”
“Are you thinking about opening your own design firm?” Reed asked.
“Maybe someday,” she hedged. But wasn’t that exactly what she ultimately hoped to do? “I’m a long way from having the capital for something like that.” The accident had seen to that.
“You should go talk to my cousin Mitch’s wife, Tess, over at the small business incubator, when she gets back from maternity leave. I know they’ve still got some space.”
Given she worked in the primary gossip hub in town, Hannah remembered hearing something about that. “What exactly is a small business incubator?”
“Tess can explain it better than I can, but basically it gives infrastructure and mentorship to small businesses to help them get off the ground. It gives you a safety net you wouldn’t have going out entirely on your own.”
That sounded…intriguing. The idea of having a mentor guide her through the business side of things made her feel a lot less frightened of the prospect. “But they aren’t letting just anybody in, right? It wouldn’t be just signing a lease on space.”
“No, there’s an application process. They’ve got more info on the website. I’ll jot it down for you.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
The bell over the door jangled and a herd of chattering, blue-haired ladies wandered in. The Casserole Patrol was a familiar fixture at Dinner Belles. In her tenure there, they’d opined on the love lives of literally everybody in town. Young, old. Didn’t matter. It was their favorite occupation. They consistently hoped that camping out in the back booth nearest the kitchen would somehow give them a leg up in winning the assorted betting pools Omar was constantly running on who would end up with whom. Plenty of people found the trio annoying. For Hannah it was like having her own, local version of the Golden Girls. That certainly didn’t stop Reed’s sales clerk, Brenda, from beating a hasty retreat to the stock room in back before they noticed her.
“Reed Campbell, you are still on my poop list!” Miss Delia crowed.
Hannah went brows up at this assertion.
Reed didn’t bat an eye. “Now, Miss Delia, I can’t help Cecily wanted to have the wedding in Greenwich.”
Miss Betty’s face fell. “I guess we can’t expect her to want to have the wedding here with her family all up north.” This was pronounced in a tone that suggested that “up north” was as bad as being from a third world country.
If there was one thing the Casserole Patrol loved more than gossiping about love lives, it was watching those lives being joined in holy matrimony…and dissecting the weddings and receptions later for who might’ve hooked up with whom and who had a bun in the oven.
Reed, ever the diplomat, put an arm around Miss Betty’s shoulders. “I’ll see if I can set up a time for you to see the wedding pictures.”
Miss Maudie Bell, the third member of their trio, nodded in approval. “You do that.”
“Is there anything I can get y’all before the rest of the knitting club arrives? The coffee’s already ready in the kitchen.”
“If you could dig up a plate for these cookies we got from the bakery, that would be great, sugar.” Miss Delia patted him on the cheek and offered the box from Sweet Magnolias.
“Oh, are those the new sugar and spice cookies?” Hannah asked.
“They are,” Miss Delia confirmed.
“I can vouch that they are awesome. Carolanne used me as taste tester the other night.”
“Your sister certainly is a whiz in the kitchen,” Miss Betty declared, shuffling over to the window. “What is all this?”
“I’m simultaneously spreading some Christmas cheer and the word that I am actually an interior decorator. I’m offering up my services for shops and homes for the cost of supplies.” Hopefully the small hand-lettered notes with her name and contact number at the bottom of the assorted window displays would net some more requests.
“What a good idea. For home stuff, are you working with what people already have?”
“I certainly can. Part of the fun of decorating is making something new and interesting out of what’s already on hand.”