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Hamlet didn’t have a gas station.
Made sense. Sure, there was Franklin’s Garage, but that was where Franklin fixed the cars. He didn’t offer fuel or anything like that. If the locals needed to fill up their vehicles, they had no choice. As much as most of them hated the idea of heading to the “outside”—seriously, that’s what they called anything past the gulley—they had to if they needed gasoline.
The road right outside of Hamlet was a highway. From experience, Gloria knew that the nearest gas station was at a rest stop about a mile down the road. When she was only going far enough to refuel, she stopped there. Sometimes, though, when she was doing other errands, she went to whatever station was closest to where her travels took her.
It hadn’t snowed in a few days. Gloria was glad, even if she was itching to really try out the snow tires. They made the ride a little bumpy, but once she was on a slower road, it wasn’t so noticeable. After making a mental note not to push the speedometer past thirty-five, she took advantage of the clear weather to get some of her shopping done.
On the way back to Hamlet, Gloria made a pitstop to fill up her tank. She did, then went inside to pay. There, sitting in a display near the register, she saw a stuffed Frosty the Snowman toy for sale.
While she waited for her turn to pay, she thought of the snowman she built in front of her house and Franklin’s disgruntled reaction to it.
He could ignore her all he wanted. She couldn’t stop him—but she could make it a little difficult for him. Plus, he might not want to decorate his cabin, but she wasn’t going to let him be a grinch on her watch.
Gloria bought the snowman.
Franklin’s truck was still gone when she drove back up the path that afternoon. Taking advantage of his absence, Gloria took her Frosty toy out of the plastic bag, then perched it neatly on the weathered, wooden rocking chair Franklin kept at the far end of his porch.
It was gone the next morning.
That whole day, Gloria couldn’t stop wondering what happened to it. It was just gone. The rocking chair didn’t look disturbed, and it hadn’t snowed again, so it wasn’t like Franklin tried to save it from getting ruined. Was there a stuffed toy thief on the loose? Or did her anti-decorating neighbor get rid of it?
Only one way to find out.
She returned to the gas station. This time, she bought a stuffed reindeer with a wonky eye. She felt bad for it. While all the others in the pile were exactly the same, this one was a little different and she was worried no one else would want him. After tying a length of ribbon around its throat, looping the ends to make an oversized bow, she perched it on the woodpile gathered neatly near Franklin’s front door.
That, too, disappeared by the time she was up the next morning.
So she picked up a box of candy canes from Jefferson’s, plus a couple of odds and ends. Twelve candy canes hung strategically on the bushes that bordered the front of his cabin. She looped a jingle bell around his doorknob, laid a plastic wreath over the nearest bush, and even lined up six wooden soldiers along his walkway.
It was all gone when she checked before she went to bed.
Gloria expected him to retaliate in some way. She could admit to herself that she was egging her neighbor on, trying to get some sort of reaction out of Franklin.
Except for the toys and decorations vanishing each morning, it was as if he didn’t even realize that she was doing it. And maybe it was childish, but Gloria couldn’t help herself. Even if he didn’t call her out on it, he had to know that she was doing it.
Franklin didn’t want to decorate his cabin like all the other residents of Hamlet. That didn’t mean that no one else couldn’t.
And that’s when, on the third afternoon, she grabbed some of the leftover garland she bought to match the other houses.
So, it turned out that the garland was the last straw for Franklin.
The next morning, she was woken up by an insistent tapping at her front door. That wasn’t so unusual. Since she moved to Hamlet, despite the remote location of her great aunt’s cabin, she’d grown used to welcoming unexpected visitors.
Usually, though, they had the decency to wait until it was a little later than that. Grumbling a little when the knocking didn’t stop, G
loria threw back her blanket and climbed up off of the couch. She’d fallen asleep downstairs while watching a movie so it wasn’t even like she could pretend she couldn’t hear it.
It wasn’t a loud knock. A simple rap-tap-tap. Whoever was out there wasn’t being rude, but they also weren’t going away.
Gloria tugged open her door, blinking in the morning sunlight as it winked off another round of fresh snow.
“Yes?” she croaked out.
She couldn’t see who it was at first. A big, black shadowy spot stood on her porch, backlit by the brightness outside. But then she heard him clear his throat, followed by the rough rasp to his voice as he said, “I think this is yours,” and she knew exactly who it was.
Her eyes flew open, the last of her sleepiness rushing away as she discovered Franklin standing in front of her, holding out something red and white and sparkly.
He was already dressed and ready for work. The collar of his plaid flannel poked out from the top of his dark brown coat, his short hair styled carelessly, his thin lips turned down in a small frown.
