Free Snowfall on Haven Point by RaeAnne Thayne

decorations throughout the house as McKenzie led the way, until they reached a sprawling room off the kitchen dominated by glass windows that overlooked the lake.
    The room was filled with most of her favorite people in the world. Andie smiled and greeted friends as she headed straight for Hazel Brewer.
    Hazel—still trim and fit and always fashionably dressed—beamed a welcome smile at her, which widened when Andie showed her the gift she and the children had made.
    â€œFor me? Oh, honey. You shouldn’t have. I don’t know what it is about all of you who can’t read your invitations. It clearly said to make a donation to the library instead of bringing a gift.”
    Andie added the wrapped present to a small but growing pile on the table next to her. “I know. And I did that. But this is something the children and I made for you. They wanted to do it and I couldn’t tell them no, could I? Happy birthday, my dear.”
    Andie leaned in to kiss Hazel’s wrinkled cheek.
    â€œThank you. Whoever would have thought a grumpy old cuss like me would live to such a ripe old age?”
    â€œI can only say I hope the next eighty are just as amazing.”
    Hazel made a face. “I’m not sure I have the energy for eight more decades. Maybe just four or five.”
    â€œIf that’s your plan, you better work on finding yourself another husband,” her sister Eppie said. “I don’t know if Ronald will be willing to drive you around for another fifty years.”
    Andie laughed and hugged Eppie, as well. Eppie and Hazel were sisters fourteen months apart who had ended up marrying twin brothers. Andie had learned at her first Helping Hands meeting in McKenzie’s storeroom that Hazel’s husband had died of cancer two decades earlier. Since then, Eppie’s patient and long-suffering husband, Ronald, had taken his wife and her sister everywhere they needed to go.
    Andie adored them all. Eppie and Hazel were kind and warm, always full of pithy observations and sly humor—exactly the kind of women she had always wished the grandmother who virtually raised her could have been. Instead, Damaris Packer had been a weak, self-effacing woman who would hardly say boo to a goose, forget about her loud, demanding, opinionated husband.
    Andie was afraid she leaned more on her grandmother’s side of the personality scale, with a tendency to shrink away from any confrontation. Since coming to Haven Point, she wanted to think she’d learned a thing or two about being strong and capable—in no small measure because of the other women in this room.
    â€œThe caterer tells me they’ve just about finished setting dinner out. Let’s eat first and then we can open gifts.”
    â€œWhat’s this we business?” Hazel said. “It’s my birthday, my gifts. I get to open them.”
    â€œYou mean the gifts you insisted you didn’t want?” Eppie said tartly.
    â€œJust wait until you’re eighty, then you’ll see life is too short to waste it pretending you don’t like being the center of attention.”
    Andie heard a muffled cough and looked over at Devin Shaw, who was fighting a grin.
    With the skill of a consummate leader, McKenzie ushered the group into her elegant dining room, where a beautiful feast was laid out.
    â€œWow, this looks fantastic,” Julia Winston, the town librarian, exclaimed.
    â€œI can’t believe you spent all this money to cater a meal,” Linda Fremont grumbled. “Why couldn’t we have just done potluck, like we always do?”
    â€œAn eightieth birthday requires something special, I believe,” McKenzie said. “And anyway, Ben insisted. This is our gift to Hazel but also our gift to the rest of you. And since he’s got more money than God, I try not to argue with him when he wants to do something special for my friends.”
    â€œWhy doesn’t Ben have any