Let It Snow: Three Holiday Romances Myracle, John (the lemonade war series txt) 📖

relayed Mayzie’s order to Christina, who had slipped back behind the counter. She whipped it up and slid it over.

“Keep what I said in mind,” Mayzie said.

“I’m pretty sure I will,” I said.

She giggled merrily, as if we were in cahoots. “Bye, now,” she called. “See you soon!”

As soon as she was gone, I tore off my apron.

“I’m going on break,” I told Christina.

She handed me the steamer. “Rinse this out for me, and you’re officially free to go.”

Chapter Ten

I set the steamer in the sink and twisted the faucet. As I waited impatiently for it to fill, I turned and leaned against the sink’s edge. I drummed my fingers against its metal rim.

“Mayzie says I need to forget myself,” I said. “What do you think that means?”

“Don’t ask me,” Christina said. Her back was to me as she blew out the steam wand, and I watched the puff of steam rise above her shoulders.

“And my friend Dorrie—you know Dorrie—she kind of said the same thing,” I mused. “She said I always have to make things be about me.”

“Well, I won’t argue with you there.”

“Ha ha,” I said. I grew uncertain. “You’re kidding, right?”

Christina looked over her shoulder and grinned. Her eyes widened in dismay, and she gestured furiously. “Addie, the . . . the . . . ”

I twisted around to see a sheet of water spill over the edge of the sink. I jumped back, yelping, “Ahhh!”

“Turn it off!” Christina said.

I fumbled with the faucet, but water continued to pour into and over the sink.

“It’s not working!”

She pushed me aside. “Get a rag!”

I dashed to the back room, grabbed a rag, and dashed back. Christina was still twisting the faucet, and water was still pouring onto the floor.

“See?” I said.

She glared.

I wormed in and pressed the rag to the sink’s edge. A second later it was soaked, and I had a flashback to the time I was four and couldn’t turn the bathtub off.

“Crap, crap, crap,” Christina said. She gave up on turning the water off and applied pressure to the spurting faucet. It squirted past her fingers in an umbrella-shaped arch. “I have no idea what to do!”

“Oh, God. Okay, um”—I scanned the store—“John!”

All three Johns looked up from their corner table. They saw what was happening and hurried over.

“Can we come behind the counter?” John Number Two asked, because Christina was hard-core about customers not coming behind the counter. Starbucks policy.

“Of course!” Christina cried. She blinked as the water sprayed her shirt and face.

The Johns took charge. Johns One and Two came to the sink, while John Number Three loped toward the back room.

“Move aside, ladies,” John Number One said.

We did. Christina’s apron was soaked, as was her shirt. And her face. And her hair.

I pulled a stack of napkins from the dispenser. “Here.”

She took them wordlessly.

“Um . . . are you mad?”

She didn’t respond.

John Number One hunkered down by the wall and did studly things with the pipes. His Tar Heels cap bobbed as he moved.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear,” I said.

Christina’s eyebrows rose to her hairline.

“Well, fine, I forgot to turn the water off. But that shouldn’t have caused the whole system to break down.”

“Musta been the storm,” John Number Two said. “Probably burst one of the outside pipes.”

John Number One grunted. “Just about got it. If I could only”—more grunts—“get this one valve . . . durn it!”

A stream of water nailed him between the eyes, and I clapped my hand to my mouth.

“Don’t think you got it,” John Number Two observed.

The water chugged from the pipe. Christina looked like she was about to cry.

“Oh God, I am so sorry,” I said. “Please make your face go back to normal. Please?”

“Why, look at that,” John Number Two said.

The gurgling sounds slowed. A drop of water trembled on the rim of the pipe, then sploshed to the floor. After that, nothing.

“It stopped,” I said in amazement.

“I disconnected the main line,” John Number Three announced, emerging from the back room with a towel.

“You did? That is so cool!” I exclaimed.

He tossed the towel to John Number One, who dabbed at his pants.

“You’re supposed to mop the floor, not your pants,” John Number Two said.

“I already did mop the floor,” John Number One grouched. “With my pants.”

“I better call an actual plumber,” Christina said. “And Addie . . . I think you should take your break.”

“Don’t you want me to help clean up?” I said.

“I want you to take your break,” she said.

“Oh,” I said. “Um, yeah, sure. That’s what I was going to do before, but then Crazy Travis showed up, and then Crazy Mayzie—”

She pointed toward the back room.

“It’s just that you were the one who asked me to stay. I mean, who cares, right? But it was—”

“Addie, please,” Christina said. “Maybe it isn’t about you this time, but it sure feels like it. I need you to go.”

We stared at each other.

“Now.”

I jumped and headed for the back room.

“Don’t worry,” John Number Three said as I passed him. “She’ll be over it by the next time you break something.” He winked, and I smiled wanly.

Chapter Eleven

I sloughed off my wet shirt and borrowed a new one from the shelf. It was for Starbucks’ DoubleShot and read, BRING ON THE DAY. Then I fished my cell from my cubby and punched in Dorrie’s speed dial.

“Hola, cookie,” she said, picking up on the second ring.

“Hi,” I said. “Do you have a minute? I’ve had the weirdest day, and it just keeps getting weirder, and I have got to talk to someone about it.”

“Did you get Gabriel?”

“Huh?”

“I said, did you get—” She broke off. When she spoke again, her voice was overly controlled. “Addie? Please tell me you remembered to go to Pet World.”

My stomach slammed down to my feet, like an elevator whose cables broke. I quickly closed my phone and grabbed my coat from the hook. As I was leaving, my phone rerang. I knew I shouldn’t answer, I knew I shouldn’t answer . . . but I gave in and answered anyway.

“Listen,” I said.

“No,