The Twelve Dogs of Christmas by Susan Wiggs

Author:Susan Wiggs [Wiggs, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-17T00:00:00+00:00

Ivy drove a white SUV that was filled with shopping bags and gift wrap. “Sorry about the mess,” she said. “I’m just here for the holidays, so I’ve been rushing around with all the preparations. I live in Santa Barbara. I’ve got an art gallery there.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It’s a living. What I really want is to make a living making art, not just selling it. I’ve sold a few of my own pieces, but not enough to call myself a professional.” She sighed. “I don’t mind working hard, but just once, I’d love to catch a break. How about you? My mom said you’re from Houston.”

“We’re not so different,” Brenda said. “I’m a content creator to pay the bills, but what I really want is to be a writer. I mean, I am a writer, but I haven’t published anything yet. I write novels for children.” She wondered if the bit she’d written this morning was any good. “I’d love to catch a break, too.”

Ivy drove slowly past Santa’s gingerbread cottage, which had a line of children waiting outside. “Maybe we should stop in and see the big guy about it.”

“I’ve never had much luck with Santa.”

Ivy drove into the town square and found a parking spot. By light of day, it was even more glaringly Christmassy than it had looked last night. People in bright winter clothes were strolling around, visiting the shops and cafés, taking pictures and pulling little kids on sleds. There was a line outside a place called the Sky River Bakery, and a cozy-looking corner bookstore. In the park in front of the town hall there was a bustling winter market, which seemed to be patterned after the Christmas markets of northern Europe. The area was filled with booths and displays of handmade goods, and a guy roasting something in a brazier over hot coals.

Ivy noticed her staring. “Ever try roasted chestnuts?”

“I’ll pass, thanks,” Brenda said.

“Not my favorite, either,” Ivy said. “It’s a tradition. This is a town with lots of traditions, as I’m sure you’re finding out. Come on. Let’s get you something nice and warm to wear.” They crossed to a cute boutique called Zuzu’s Petals. The windows displayed an abundant winter wardrobe—sweaters and capes, downy parkas and hats, mittens and boots.

“Fair warning,” Ivy said. “This is one of those shops that makes you want everything. Suzanne—Zuzu—has incredible taste.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself,” Brenda said. “Since I live in Houston, I won’t need much, right?”

“Oh, and just another heads-up,” Ivy said. “Suzanne, the owner, is Adam’s ex. Willy’s mom. It’s not superweird or anything, but I thought you should know.”

“Noted,” said Brenda, her senses sharpening. She couldn’t deny a deep curiosity about Adam’s ex-wife. The mother of that adorable little kid. Former wife of that very nice guy.

Ivy must have sensed the unspoken questions, because she said, “The two of them get along for Will’s sake. They just weren’t compatible. Not the right fit, even though they tried. But we all get along like adults.

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