Page 11 of Sugar Plum Serenade

She knocked. When there was no response, she punched the doorbell. It was a big house, much bigger than her own. He could be upstairs, in the rear of the house, maybe even in the backyard. The doorbell tone echoed through the house. She’d decided Tuck wasn’t at home and was thinking of leaving a note when the door swung open.

For a moment, she couldn’t speak. Tuck didn’t look, well, like Tuck. No easy smile, no twinkle in those blue eyes. He was pale and haggard. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“What makes you think anything’s wrong?”

The way you look. The sound of your voice. The clear tension in that combative stance. “Call it a hunch.”

“I’ve had a bad day, that’s all. Are those the scarves? Sorry, I forgot all about them.” He reached out and took the bag she offered. “I’ll drop them at the fire station tomorrow.”

She should turn away, leave him to his misery, and continue with her plans for the day. Leftover shrimp and grits. A visit with Dawn. But something stopped her. “Let me make you dinner,” she said before she could stop herself.

His eyebrows arched a little. “Really?”

“Nothing fancy.” The leftovers could wait. “I make a mean omelet.” That was all she had the makings for, at the moment.

He started to say no; she saw that no on his face. But after a short pause he said, “It would do me good to get out of the house. Thanks.”

“Give me twenty minutes,” Olive said, intent on a quick shower before she started cooking. “I have retail smell all over me.”

Finally, he smiled. That grin wasn’t as bright as usual, but it was a definite improvement.

Olive didn’t run to her own house, but she did hurry. She could call Dawn later and check on her instead of visiting tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough for a face-to-face chat. As she let herself into the blue house, the Christmas tree caught her eye. This morning before she’d headed out, she’d unplugged the lights. It wasn’t safe to leave anything plugged in, that’s what she told herself.

She dropped her purse in a chair and walked straight to the tree, leaned over, grabbed the cord, and plugged it into the outlet. She didn’t need or want a Christmas tree but since it was here, she might as well enjoy the lights. They were festive, which would’ve normally been a negative in her book.

Why had she invited Tuck over? Simple. They were neighbors, friends, and when he’d opened the door he’d looked like a man who needed a friend tonight.

As she walked toward the bedroom to grab clean clothes, she muttered to herself. “Liar. You like him.”