“In exchange for which, your publisher is paying for a new roof for the bookstore.”
Daniel glanced at Penny. “Well, I can’t really speak to that.”
Penny held back a sigh —was there anything this town wasn’t aware of? “You heard right about a new roof, Hettie Mae. It goes in next spring.”
“Wonderful. The sooner the better. We had a slow leak for years at the library, which caused no end of trouble.”
Donald cleared his throat. “Mr. Bedford, you’re doing a press event here tomorrow, correct?”
“Yes, tomorrow afternoon.”
“Hettie Mae and I will be attending. We’re eager to hear if your view of the holiday has evolved.”
“I don’t mind telling you,” Hettie Mae added, “that we very much hope that it has. Hating Christmas isn’t, as the younger generation might put it, a good look.”
“Well,” Daniel said, “to be clear, I don’t hate Christmas.”
“That may be. But most people believe you do.”
Daniel was about to respond when a tiny voice cried out, “You hate Christmas?”
Everyone turned and found they’d been joined by a young girl, perhaps six years old, dressed in a pink winter coat and matching pink winter boots, gazing up at Daniel, her little face scrunched in puzzlement. Penny had seen the girl before at storytime for kids, but she was blanking on her name. She glanced around and spotted the girl’s mom a few feet away, typing a text on her phone.
Daniel gave the girl a friendly smile. “Um, no,” he said gently, “I don’t hate Christmas.”
The girl wasn’t done with her questions. “Why do people think you hate Christmas?”
“Well,” he said, unsure how to respond, “I guess you could say I have criticisms of the holiday.”
The girl frowned. “Critta sissums?”
“There are things I don’t like about the holiday.”
“Like what?”
“The commercialization, mainly,” he began, but stopped when he realized she wasn’t following. “I think people spend too much money at Christmas.”
The girl continued to stare up at him, still clearly baffled. “What about Santa?”
Daniel blinked. “Um….”
“He comes down the chimney.”
“Right.…”
“The night before Christmas.”
“Yes.”
“With presents.”
“Right….”
The girl was looking at him like he was from another planet.
“Lola,” the girl’s mother said, approaching and taking her daughter by the hand. She turned apologetically to Penny. “Sorry, she gets curious.”
“No need to apologize,” Penny said. “Your daughter’s asking excellent questions.”
