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Shawn adjusted the headset microphone. “Thanks ladies, but unless there’s a sexy Mrs. Claus, I’m going to have to pass.”
“There is.” Muriel said a little too quickly. “And she’s single.”
I hoped that matchmaker Muriel wasn’t planning on dressing me up in a red velvet suit to sit beside cranky Santa.
Shawn seemed to be reconsidering. “Now we’re talking. As long as I’ve got someone cute to sit with, I think I could handle the job.”
I couldn’t believe that he’d agreed to it. “Thank you, Shawn. Let me get your number and we will text you all the details.”
“As long as it’s after six. That’s when we wrap today.” Shawn handed me a business card with his name and number and I tucked it into Jack’s coat pocket.
“It starts at seven. And, you’ve seen the length of the street. You will be home in your hotel room by eight. At the latest. Practice up your Ho-ho-ho’s.” Muriel gave him a light punch to the arm with her hand-knit pastel mitten.
Shawn shook his head. “As soon as I get home, I’m shaving off this damn beard.” He stroked the long white beard and smiled. “Now, get out of here before I put you on the naughty list.” He grinned. “Hey, I could get used to that line.” He put his hand to his ear piece and barked some orders into his microphone. “I’m needed on set.” Shawn ambled into the crowd, pointing and barking orders.
Slipping my arm through Muriel’s, I whispered, “Let’s get out of here before we’re stuck in the movie.”
We slipped off the set unnoticed and shuffled down the street, stopping in front of Emma’s flower shop. “Well, that’s one problem solved, but who is going to play Mrs. Claus?”
Muriel was staring into the window of the flower shop. “That’s a pretty wreath.”
“Muriel.” I growled. “Please tell me you have someone to play Mrs. Claus with Shawn.”
“I wonder how much it is…” her voice trailed off.
“Muriel.” My voice was a little lower.
She turned to me. “I thought that you could do it.”
“Nuh-uh. No way.”
“It’s only for an hour.”
I took a deep breath. “Muriel. I hate Christmas. At home they call me the girl grinch.” I let it all spill out. “I can’t smile and wave and throw candy canes, I’ll scare off the kids.”
“Nobody hates Christmas.”
“I do. I hate it.” The tears were unexpected to both me and Muriel.
Her arms were around me before I knew what was happening. In the middle of the street Jack’s mom held me in a bear hug. At first I was stiff in her arms, wishing I could be anywhere else, but she didn’t let go. Then, I softened into her hug and the tears fell hard and I was soaking the shoulder of her coat.
“Get it out honey. You get all of that out.” Muriel refused to let go until all of the pain had poured out of my eyes and she handed me a cotton handkerchief from her pocket.
“I’m s-s-s-sorry,” I stammered.
“Don’t you be sorry,” Muriel wrapped her arm around my back and led me down the street. “Let’s go get a cup of coffee.”
“Wait.” I stopped. We were in front of the Last Chance. “I have an idea for someone who can play Mrs. Claus. If she agrees, am I off the hook?” My voice was hoarse.
“Henri, you were off the hook the minute you told me you hated Christmas. I was going to step in and do it.”
“No.” I pressed my cold hands to my cheeks, hoping that my chilly fingers would calm down some of the redness and swelling. “I think I have the perfect person. Do you know Mary Fisher?”
“MILFY?” Muriel smiled. “I sure do.” Her eyes widened. “She’s perfect.”
“Come on, Muriel. We’re not getting a coffee, we’re getting a drink.” I pulled open the heavy door and the two of us stepped into the darkness of the Last Chance Tavern.
FOURTEEN
