Magic in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Christmas River Cozy Book 7) by Meg Muldoon Page A

I think she just keeps saying ‘no’ to spite me.”
    “Or maybe she just knows what she wants and she’s not willing to settle for anything less,” I said.
    Kara smiled.
    “Well, I don’t know why since she’s not even gonna be the one to carve it, but I guess I can’t discourage a gal knowing her own mind.”
    Kara weaved her way through the row she’d been in, and took control of the stroller again. She pushed it slowly down the bumpy, straw-strewn aisle of Harrington Pumpkin Patch.
    I dug my hands deeper into my pockets and took in a deep, frosty breath of crisp autumn air. I tilted my head toward the sun and closed my eyes for a second, letting the late afternoon rays warm my cold face.
    Though the crowds at the pie shop weren’t quite up to the summer tourist mayhem, it still felt like I’d been putting in a lot of hours lately, including today’s shift when I hardly had two seconds to myself the entire day.
    And I knew as we approached the holidays, those long hours would only get longer. And soon, with daylight savings time taking effect, the chances of me getting outside in the sun would be few and far between from here until April.
    “So did I tell you what Edna wrote back to me about that picture I sent?” Kara said as we made our way over to another row of bright orange gourds.
    “Huh?” I said after a long pause.
    My best friend stared at me blankly. The kind of look that I knew was her way of saying “Get with the program, Cin” without actually saying the phrase itself.
    She took a sip from her low-fat iced pumpkin latte that had been secured in a pocket of the stroller.
    “ Remember ? I sent her the picture of all those mustard bottles in our fridge? After she said that I just didn’t know John’s tastes and how much he hates mustard when I know full-well how much mustard that man goes through.”
    I stifled a sigh and nodded my head.
    “Oh, yeah,” I said. “Of course. So she responded?”
    “Mm hmm ,” she said, and by the way she said it, it was obvious that whatever Edna Billings had written in response hadn’t been to Kara’s liking.
    “Let me read it to you,” she said, fishing her phone out of her jean pocket. A moment later, she was somehow balancing her latte, purse, and phone in one hand, while pushing Laila’s stroller with the other.
    “She said ‘ Well I guess that’s just one of the many things that has changed about my son since he met you. ’”
    Kara let out a disgusted scoff.
    “Can you believe that passive-aggressive BS, Cin? She’s practically calling me a Yoko Ono to my face!”
    I held my tongue and didn’t point out the fact that Edna hadn’t said any of it to Kara’s face.
    “I mean, doesn’t that sound passive aggressive to you?”
    I nodded, having had the bad fortune of having Mrs. Edna Billings at my Thanksgiving dinner table twice. Though I wasn’t exactly the first person in line to hear about Kara and Edna’s spats, I had to agree with Kara: the woman wasn’t easy to get along with. When she wasn’t blatantly rude, the old woman seemed to derive pleasure from trying to insult people underhandedly.
    “She’s not an easy woman, that’s for sure,” I said.
    “I’d say that’s putting it politely, Cin,” she said. “Edna Billings is the biggest bit—”
    Kara stopped speaking as a buzzing sound interrupted what I was pretty sure was going to be an expletive aimed at her mother-in-law.
    “Sorry,” I said, reaching for my cell, which was stashed in the pocket of my corduroy jacket.
    I glanced at the screen expecting to see Daniel’s name, or maybe Tiana’s, but was surprised to see that the number showed up as “unknown.”
    Normally, I didn’t ever answer calls from numbers I didn’t recognize. I preferred to find out who it was first, and then call back if they weren’t a telemarketer. But with an unknown number, I wouldn’t be able to call back – unless the person calling left a message.
    My curiosity got the better