What Jordan wanted was to have things right between Iris and him.
“That isn’t why I did it.” Concern darkened Iris’s good mood. “I did it because I wanted people to know they were special enough to have good things happen to them.”
Merry Christmas from our house to yours.
Jordan parked his work truck outside the garage and took the back door to his office. The equipment neatly organized by how frequently it was used suited him more at the moment. At least they made sense. People’s obsession with bows, trees, Christmas balls, and everything red and green aggravated the uneasy feeling Jordan knew would subside with time.
“Dear Cookie Angel,
Thank you. I appreciate the gift of cookies. They are delicious and remind me of my mother, who passed away shortly before my move to Paradise Hills. I don’t feel so lonely anymore.”