Page 17 of A Swan for Christmas

But one truth remained above everything else. At the same time the previous week, he’d been miserable and unhappy with his brother and their rag-tag, outlaw herd of swans. His future had seemed bleak and he’d felt trapped and alone. If Vic finding him wasn’t destined, then the way he saw it, no such thing as destiny existed at all.

* * * *

Vic had found a supplier a couple of towns over who had an amazing crop of fresh, organic cranberries, and he’d managed to score the last two pallets of them. Skip would undoubtedly grouse and stomp around, barking at him that they were going to be stuck with a whole pallet of the non-organic ones. Of course, Vic had taken that into consideration already, but he’d let Skip bellyache about it for a while to get it out of his system.

Every year, the winter holidays in Vale Valley were magnificent, the entire town going all out when it came to decorations and celebrating. Vic loved the holidays too, always had. But after losing his folks, brother and two sisters to the virus—his heart would grow heavy right around the beginning of November and remain that way through New Year’s. The memories of being with his family at Thanksgiving and Christmas were both beautiful and agonizing. The bitter reality of having lost them and the certainty that he’d never find a mate had made it a challenge to participate as enthusiastically in the festivities as he would’ve liked.

That’s all changed now.

Vic hoisted the first pallet of berries from the bed of his truck and trudged to the back entrance of the restaurant. His first order of business when he got inside, and after Skip was done complaining, would be to find Kellan and steal a kiss. Then, he planned on sitting with Kellan in one of the back booths with a few baskets of cranberries, a spool of thread and a couple of needles. They were going to string up their own decorations, make it into something fun they could share every year.

Like we did when I was growing up.

Maybe it wasn’t quite time for Christmas decorations yet, but they could also take some mini pumpkins, acorn squash and fancy gourds and group them together to make lovely centerpieces for the upcoming Thanksgiving feast.

Then, we can string the cranberries. He rubbed his chin. They might go bad before Christmas. Vic shrugged to himself. Oh well, we can string more. He smiled. And some popcorn, too.

Vic whistled Winter Wonderland as he finished bringing the second pallet in and adding it on top of the first. He plucked off his work gloves then shoved them into the pockets of his Sherpa-lined nylon jacket. The down parka had been retired until further notice. Skip appeared from around the corner, wiping his hands on a towel.

“Hiya, boss. What are those cranberries for? We already got some.”

Vic hung his jacket on top of Kellan’s. He wished Skip had given him another sixty seconds alone in the back before materializing. He’d hoped to get a hearty whiff of Kellan’s scent from his coat after missing him so much all day. Of course, he’d have the real thing in a bit, but he didn’t think it was appropriate to be huffing Kellan’s neck out in the dining room of his restaurant during dinner service.

“Hey, Skip.” He pointed to the new pallets. “Have your prep guy make a place in the walk-in for these. They’re organic, so let’s use them for the sauce and the glaze on the…” Vic slapped a hand to his mouth. “Oh shit.”

Skip narrowed his eyes as he examined the new berries as if they were somehow defective. “Something wrong?”

“Is it too late to cancel the duck order?”

Skip straightened with a frown. “Cancel? Are you crazy or something? The locals will have your hide. You know, a couple people inquired whether we were going to have goose this year as well, like you once promised. I said I’d talk to—”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Vic frantically waved his arms around.

Skip frowned. “What’s the matter with you? This job finally sending you over the edge?”

“Dammit, Skip. Kellan is a swan shifter.”

He shrugged. “So? We’re not serving any swan. Plus, he eats chicken, don’t he? Everyone eats chicken.”

Vic pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “No, Skip. Not everyone eats chicken. He doesn’t. And ducks and geese are related to swans, they’re in the same family or something, I dunno. But what I do know is that I’ll be donating my down parka to Rafe’s homeless shelter and if it’s too late to cancel the duck order, then they’ll be getting those too.”

Skip scratched his head. “I’m confused. Are we keeping the turkeys you already ordered for them then giving them the ducks instead?”

Vic scrubbed his face with both hands. I need a drink. “No. They can have both. Look, no ducks, no geese. People can eat turkey or ham.”

“For Christmas too? Everyone wants duck or goose at Christmas.”

Vic let out a low growl. “One major feast at a time, Skip, okay?”

Skip rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Sure, boss man. Whatever you say.”

“Good. I’m gonna go check on the front. Did you sell the rest of the pork chops yet?”

“Nah, I have two orders left. Want one?”

“Yeah, that sounds great. Couple baked potatoes, too. I’m starving, it’s been a long day.” Vic tried to recall what else they had that Kellan might like.

“Oh, hey. I saved a piece of walleye for swan boy.”