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Under the Christmas Lights

Page 15

by Fiona Baker

She just wasn’t sure how to do that in these circumstances without seeming like a crazy beggar. Nothing about this felt natural to her, and she decided, after finishing her coffee, to give up for the day and try again tomorrow. Clearly, this wasn’t working right now.

With that in mind, she started the walk back to Hearthside mentally preparing to retreat to her room and spend the rest of the day wallowing in self-pity and knitting. And then, as she passed The Toy Chest and glanced at the intricate toy train set circling a carved wooden and hand-painted station, she noticed a flyer taped to the glass.

It was a job advertisement, she realized. She leaned closer to read it, startled to actually see the one thing she hadn’t expected to find.

“Experienced Electrician Seeks Holiday Assistant. Temporary position, December only. Must be reliable, comfortable with heights, and organized. Call Henry Cline, 555-LIGHTS.”

She read over it twice to make sure that she’d understood correctly. An electrician’s assistant. It wasn’t anything she’d ever considered or thought about. It definitely wasn’t even remotely related to her background in office management. The job was seasonal too, and she doubted if she was at all qualified for it.

But it was a job opportunity, and the first one she’d seen that was out in the open, rather than requiring a social dance that she felt sure she was going to get wrong. It was posted by someone who was actively looking for help rather than someone she’d have to interrupt and impose upon. That was something. She would never have considered this in a million years before, but what choice did she really have?

She needed something. And it was only temporary, so if it didn’t work out, she wouldn’t have to do it for long. Maybe she would do a good enough job that this Henry would recommend her to someone that had a position better suited for her.

Still waffling, she read the advertisement for a third time, just as the door to the shop opened with a cheerful jingling.

“Are you Nicole Peterson?” called out a voice, and Nicole turned to see a cheerful woman who appeared to be in her early seventies standing on the sidewalk, dressed in a bright red sweater and jeans with her silver, curly bob tucked behind her ears.

“I am,” Nicole replied, surprised to be recognized by someone she’d never met. “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

“I’m Mabel Stewart, owner of The Toy Chest,” the woman said, extending her hand with a smile. “My granddaughter Vanessa mentioned having a lovely conversation with you at the Snowdrift Diner the other day. She said you were new in town and looking for work, and I’ve been hoping our paths would cross.”

Nicole felt a flutter of relief at the realization that Vanessa had left with a good impression of her, and that someone in Fir Tree Grove had been actively hoping to see her again. “Vanessa was incredibly kind and welcoming,” she said, shaking Mabel’s hand firmly. “She gave me some very helpful advice about how job hunting works in small towns. Unfortunately, it’s all a little out of my depth, being so new here.”

“Well, I see you’ve noticed Henry’s advertisement.” Mabel followed Nicole’s glance toward the window. “Are you considering applying for the position?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Nicole admitted, her stomach twisting in that now-familiar knot again. “I have absolutely no experience with electrical work or Christmas light installation. But I’m reliable and I don’t mind heights, and I’m incredibly organized, so maybe filling those qualifications is enough?”

Mabel laughed delightedly. “Henry Cline is the most talented and dedicated Christmas light installer and electrician I’ve ever known,” she said firmly. “Every year he transforms this entire town into something magical, and every year he tries to handle the whole operation by himself despite being completely overwhelmed with requests. He definitely needs help, and I suspect he’d be more interested in finding someone trustworthy and enthusiastic than someone with extensive electrical background. I doubt he wants to delegate the installing so much as the administrative tasks.”

That made Nicole feel more confident, although she still felt more than a little daunted by the prospect of applying for a job so far outside her comfort zone. “Do you know him well? What kind of person is he?”

“He’s a good, kind, quiet sort of man,” Mabel said without hesitation. “He’s thoughtful, incredibly skilled at his work, and absolutely devoted to making the holidays special for everyone in town. He’s been doing this for decades, even after…” she paused, her expression softening, “even after losing his wife a few years ago. He keeps creating Christmas magic for the rest of us even though I know it’s not the same for him any longer.”

“Oh,” Nicole murmured softly, feeling touched at the description. That sounded like someone worth knowing, and the kind of person she wouldn’t mind working for, even if she wasn’t really suited for the job. She found herself genuinely curious about meeting this Henry Cline person.

“You really think he might be willing to consider someone with no experience?” she asked.

“I think he’s in need of help yesterday,” Mabel said firmly. “And between you and me, I think he could use some company during what can be a lonely time of year for people who are creating everyone else’s celebrations while spending the holidays alone. An assistant is just the thing. You should absolutely go talk to him about the job. I think you would be a perfect fit.”

Nicole wasn’t so sure about that last statement, but she was intrigued. And she felt a bit of kinship with Henry too, even without having met him. Her husband hadn’t died, but he was certainly gone from her life, she thought ruefully. She was spending her first Christmas alone, and she definitely understood how that could make a person feel. She imagined it was even more difficult when the person who was gone was someone you desperately missed.

She made a decision, as she often did. “Where would I find him to ask about the position?” she asked. She might as well try; waffling over it would get her nowhere.

“His shop is just three blocks over—Cline Electric,” Mabel said, her expression brightening with obvious pleasure at Nicole’s decision. “You can’t miss it; there are Christmas lights in every configuration known to mankind in his front window.” With a smile, she added, “And Nicole? I have a feeling this might be exactly the opportunity you’ve been looking for, even if you didn’t know it yet.”

“Thank you,” Nicole said, genuinely meaning it. She was nervous beyond belief, but she knew she had to give this a try.

As she walked down the street in the direction Mabel had pointed out, the nerves only increased. She was about to apply for a job she’d never considered with a man she’d never met, in a field she knew nothing about, in a town where she’d been living for less than a week. But she knew that this was exactly the kind of leap of faith that her new life was going to require. She might not know anything about Christmas lights, but she knew about hard work and attention to detail, and she felt confident she could learn.

Maybe, just maybe, she could convince Henry Cline that she was exactly the assistant he’d been hoping to find.

CHAPTER TEN

Henry stood in the back room of his shop, staring at the clipboard in his hands with a growing sense of dread. The list of addresses seemed to multiply before his eyes, each one representing hours of work that need to be completed before Christmas Eve. Mrs. Matthews wanted her entire Victorian wrapped in warm white lights.

The Smiths had requested an elaborate winter wonderland scene for their front yard. And the new family on Maple Street wanted something “magical but not too flashy,” whatever that meant. They hadn’t been very clear about the particulars.

He ran a hand through his dark, salt and pepper hair, and glanced at the clock on the wall. One fifteen. If he left now, he might be able to tackle three houses before the sun started to set at five. Maybe four if he skipped lunch and worked through the cold without taking a break to warm up.