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“I’d like that,” she said sincerely. I felt a rush of warmth toward her. And then, because we’d both apparently just had an emotion, we went back to staring silently at the tree.
She changed things up by turning toward the staircase. “I’d like to get some more garland for the banisters. Christmastown was out of them the other day. I was going to try Elfwood, but then the weather turned. You know I hate to go out in this.” She gestured out the window to the grayness and slush.
“Yeah. It sucks.”
She was silent a moment. “It would be nice if you volunteered.”
“Volunteered?”
“To go to Elfwood and look for garland.”
“Oh.” But Elfwood was a place where I might see people. It was, in fact, where Cass moonlit as Santa. If he was moonlighting there now, I would see him twice in one day, which was unacceptable. Though more likely, he was at home putting his perishables away. If I went quickly…
“I could watch the girls,” Mom continued. “While you went to get garland. And milk.”
“At Elfwood?”
“At the grocery store.”
“I was justatthe grocery store.”
“If you were a more considerate son, you would text your mother before you went grocery shopping to see if she needed anything.”
She was teasing, but guilt hit me all the same. She wasn’t wrong.
“All right.” I made a big show of sighing and hauling myself to my feet. “I’ll go get your garland. And milk.”
“You are a wonderful child.”
“That’s not what you said twelve seconds ago.”
“I’ve reconsidered.” She stood too. “I’ll even move your name off the naughty list.” And then she went over to a large piece of red construction paper on the wall that I hadn’t noticed before. It had been divided into two columns with a green marker, one column labeled NAUGHTY and one labeled NICE. She had pasted little bits of velcro in each column, and then had velcroed rectangles of paper with names on them. The names in the nice column were: GRANDMA, EM, ADA, LINDA, JAKE, and PEBBLES. In the naughty column was FRANCES. I stared, open mouthed, as she unvelcroed my name and stuck it in the NICE column with the others.
“What the hell?” I protested. “Why was I on the naughty list?”
“Because I texted you that thing the other day with the raccoon dancing toJingle Bells, and you never responded.”
“Wow. Shit just got real.”
She smiled. “It’s always been real, dear.”
“And why is Pebbles on the nice list? She stole cookies.”
“You’re right. And she peed on my sock.” She shifted Pebbles to the naughty list.
“See you in a few. Hopefully with garland.”
“Don’t bother coming back without it.”
“The spirit of giving is clearly upon us.”
All she said was, “Ha.”
I shrugged on my coat and left for Elfwood.
ChapterThree
Elfwood was the least offensive of the five Christmas shops in Christmas Valley. It had been built in the former train depot, which lent it a charming bit of history; one section of the train tracks remained, a festive Christmas train eternally upon it. Snow was beginning to fall as I pulled into the parking lot, and through the window I could see the gas fireplace roaring beneath a tasteful wreath display. Bells tinkled as I pushed the door open and stepped into pine-scented air. Old wooden floorboards creaked under my boots, and memories came rushing back to me. How many times had I visited Katya here when we were teenagers? How many times had I picked her up when her shift was done so we could go smoke weed in Town Square, or catch a late showing of a movie neither of us cared about? She’d been the one to give me a wad of cotton snow from the Dickens Village to cry into the evening I’d come here and confessed to her that I was in love with Cassidy Sullivan but didn’t have the balls to say the ‘L’ word.
