Evie turned and looked at Mia. “I appreciate the advice, Aunt Mia. I really do. But can we just have fun shopping? You’re being kind of a downer.”

“Right. I wouldn’t want to be a downer. Come on, let’s go look at the belts.”

Kate stood in the living room, the first time she’d been alone in the B&B since getting there. From the lack of cars outside, it seemed everyone was gone for the moment, so she sat down on the sofa and stared at the mantle. Pictures of her birthmother were everywhere, like some kind of photo memorial to the woman that left her behind all those years ago.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have a decent upbringing. Her mother had been good to her, but she’d always felt a little out of place. She didn’t look like either of her parents, and now she knew why. She was taller, by several inches, than her mother, and the kids at school hadn’t always been kind about that.

She stood and walked over to the desk, picking up a silver framed picture of her birthmother. It looked recent as her hair had flecks of gray. She had to admit she was a beautiful woman with her auburn tinted hair and porcelain skin. Her resemblance to Evie was uncanny, and it made something in the pit of her stomach churn. How could she miss a woman she’d never met and only found out existed a few days ago?

As she put the picture down, she turned to see another framed photo at the end of the mantle. It was her mother and Mia, standing together and smiling. The Christmas tree was decorated behind them, snow in the window just beyond. She wondered what Christmases would’ve been like as a family. It made her ache a bit to think of what she’d missed with her mother and sister. She didn’t want to feel that way. She wanted to compartmentalize her feelings like she always did, but it was proving difficult.

The B&B felt like home, in a way, but also like she’d been dropped onto another planet. She walked to the kitchen and looked around. It was hard to imagine that her mother had been standing there a few months ago, possibly using the pink retro mixer on the counter. She touched it, running her fingers along the cool metal, trying to connect with her mother’s spirit. What was she really like? What would she be thinking right now if she could see Kate - who she’d named Gwendolyn - standing in her kitchen?