“Anda square of Grandma Jean’s prizewinning fudge,” Josh added, glancing at her sidelong. “As long as you really do trust me.”
“Chocolate fudge is serious business, but I’ll try it if you say so.”
The countertop was thick as cupcake icing and shiny as cake glaze. She and Josh leaned against it and ate their treats, washing it all down with good coffee. “You were right,” she said, her mouth filled with the delicious pastry studded with maraschino cherries and caramelized pineapple. “This isincredible.” Then she tried the fudge and nearly swooned. “I think I’m in heaven!”
Anna felt she could stand there all day, enjoying the food and the atmosphere—but Josh was looking regretfully at the door. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m late for work. But you stay here, finish my rugelach, too? And...” She couldn’t shake the sensation that Josh suddenly looked sad. “...I hope I see you later,” was all he said. Before she could thank him, he had disappeared into the small crowd in the bakery, and then out the door and into the snowy day.
Anna forced herself not to analyze how bereft his sudden absence made her feel—or to wonder why a lot of the bakerycustomers seemed to be staring first at Josh as he exited, and then at her, with inexplicable interest. As she finished her coffee and treats, she thought about Maryam instead, and what Mr. Dadu had suggested about a potential friendship between the two young women. Maryam seemed like a tough nut to crack—but wouldn’t anyone be softened by trying the delectable baked goods at Gingersnaps, especially after a day of fasting? So, Anna ordered a boxful to bring back to the inn and share, and left the bakery laden with bags from her successful morning of necessity-hunting.
“Now, was that a right and a left and a left, or a left and a right and a right to get back to the inn?” Anna muttered to herself as she walked along. There were worse places to be lost, she decided, slowing her pace and peering through the window of a pet supply store displaying a collection of cute, festive costumes for cats and dogs. Next was an adorable little Italian restaurant, not open yet, the empty tables cloaked in red-and-white-checkered tablecloths and topped with red and green taper candles in empty wine bottles. As Anna peered through the window, she felt a shiver of recognition. Had she been here before? No, impossible. But she could swear she had seen this exact restaurant before, right down to the Botticelli angel prints hung on the exposed-brick walls.
She gasped in delight as she realized what she was seeing: this was Buon Natalie’s, the Italian restaurant fromOne Night at Christmas! This was an exact double of the Italian restaurant where Tyler had proposed to Jane!
Anna took a step back from the window—and noticed there now seemed to be a small crowd of people heading toward her. When she spotted a camera and a boom mic, she realized whatshe was seeing was a film crew. She couldn’t be imagining this—ithadto be true. Snow Falls was the secret location of the much-anticipated film shoot ofTwo Nights at Christmas—and her new friend Mr. Dadu was going to be thrilled. Anna turned on her heel and headed in what she was suddenly certain was the direction of Snow Falls Inn, excited to get back and tell him all about it.
EIGHT
Maryam
December 21
Maryam hadn’t been able to do anything to help her sister with the wedding, so she ordered her favorite dinner instead. To her surprise, there was a halal Hakka Chinese restaurant in Snow Falls, and even better, they promised to deliver despite the snow.
When she requested that the food arrive just before sunset, the young woman at the other end of the line paused. “Muslim?” she asked, and Maryam responded in the affirmative. “Ramadan Kareem,” the woman said before disconnecting.
Maryam looked at the phone, puzzled by the greeting. As far as she could tell, Snow Falls was a tiny town obsessed with Christmas. The lobby of Snow Falls Inn was smothered with Christmas decorations, including a large tree practically bent double under the weight of ornaments—shining balls and baubles in red, green, silver, and gold; enamel figurines of laughing elves, sleds, reindeer, and Father Christmas; plus strings of popcorn and cranberry, tinsel, and fairy lights in acacophonous clashing display, clearly a result of Kath’s enthusiastic efforts. Wreaths adorned every door. And yet their Tasmanian hosts had known it was Ramadan, and what that entailed.
In her (admittedly limited) experience, small towns weren’t especially known for their diversity. Yet this was the second time that Ramadan had been acknowledged by the townspeople. A small part of her was starting to wonder about Snow Falls.
The wedding party spent the day sleeping, watching television in their rooms, and chatting in the front foyer, which they had started to use as a sort of gathering place. Her parents and Dadu had grown up in India, spending the majority of their waking time in communal spaces, and the foyer, with its central location, comfortable seating, and warm fireplace, served that purpose well. Plus, Deb and Kath seemed pleased to see their foyer used and enjoyed by their guests. Dadu had found a Christmas movie marathon running on the Heartline Channel, and by the time Maryam joined him, he had already watchedOne Night at Christmaswhile the rest of the wedding party had caught up on sleep. She was sorry to have missed her favorite holiday movie, but she was sure it would play again during the marathon at some point. Dadu was taking a break to prayzuhr, the afternoon prayer, when Farah sidled up to Maryam as she set up the next movie. Dadu had packed a collection of VHS tapes and was keen to watchKuch Kuch Hota Hai. The movie had come out only two years ago, but was already a classic.
“Did you pass along my message to Saif?” Farah asked.
Maryam nodded, trying to keep her story straight. Dadu was praying nearby, and if it got back to her parents that Saifhad barged into her hotel room, no matter the reason, they would not be impressed, especially given their earlier warning. “Yes... I bumped into him. At the... ice machine... because I needed ice after I... bumped into him,” she said, improvising. Farah watched her carefully, and actually laughed when Maryam stumbled to the end of her explanation.
“Still a terrible liar,” she observed. “Saima and I used to try to get you to lie, just to watch you turn red. It was hilarious.”
Maryam swatted playfully at Farah. “If you didn’t come to the wedding to be set up with Saif, why are you here?” she asked, genuinely curious.
Farah sighed. “I didn’t have anywhere to go for winter break. Adam is celebrating Christmas with his mom and stepfather in Denver, and things are... complicated for us right now. I guess I was in the mood for an old-fashioneddesiwedding. Remember how many of these we went to when we were younger?”
It was true—their childhood had been filled with weddings, ladies-onlymehndidance parties, and family dinner parties. South Asian culture was all about family, and weddings were always large-scale affairs. Most people brought their entire families to weddings, which were often held in community centers, mosques, or banquet halls.
Maryam nodded. “Christmas was basically the unofficial start ofdesiwedding season,” she joked, and Farah smiled in agreement.
“Are your parents unhappy about Adam?” she asked, after inserting the VHS cassette and making sure the subtitles worked, in case any non-Hindi-speakers wanted to join them.She thought about Anna, and wondered what her new acquaintance was doing right now.Not my problem, she reminded herself.
Farah shrugged. “They want me to marry adesiMuslim guy. They think Saima hit the jackpot. A brown doctor from a rich family? Come on.”
“The holy grail,” Maryam agreed, and the women laughed.
“They think I’m a disappointment. I’m dating a non-Muslim, I teach art to grade school kids—”
“Mom told me you teach physics to middle school geniuses at a charter school!” Maryam interrupted.
Farah rolled her eyes. “I didn’t study physics beyond grade nine. I teach eight-year-old kids how to draw lines and sculpt clay. Plus, I have a craft stall at the local flea market. It’s called Farah-licious. I mostly draw portraits of my cat.”
Maryam laughed. “I’m glad you came to the wedding,” she said sincerely. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
