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Chapter 38
GABE
Six months later
“Don’t forget to lock the register!” Tillie calls as she frantically unloads the last set of glasses into the racks over the bar.
“Done!” I double-check that the cash drawer is secure and power down the electronics. Then I reach up to flip off the red and green lights decorating the carved poles at either end of the long burnished-wood counter.
Despite the crazy crowd only a half an hour ago, the tables are empty.
“You ready for your first Christmas Boat Parade?” I ask Tillie, who swaps out her bar boots for tennis shoes.
“I’m so excited. Thank goodness Clay agreed we should shut down the bar so we can go.”
“It’s practically a national event. Of course he’d shut it down.”
She ties her laces, and I grasp both of her hands to lift her from the chair. We look around a moment, something we often do after a shift, when the bustling, busy crowd is gone and the room belongs to only the two of us.
It’s our home away from home, the one we share. Work still isn’t work with Tillie. I’m starting to realize it never will be.
She squeezes my hand. “My first La Jarra holidays! I’m super pumped about Boxing Day. It’s like two Christmases.” She slides a tote bag over her shoulder.
“And the second Christmas is a beach party.”
She squeals.
Christmas is two weeks away yet, but the Christmas Boat Parade is one of the big events of the holidays. There might not be snow on the island, and it’s not going to get cold, either. But we have our own ways of celebrating the season.
We head out the side door and lock it, skirting the piles of pure-white banked sand that are decorated with tiny pine trees and tinsel. It’s the closest thing we have to a white Christmas in La Jarra.
I take the bag from Tillie as we hurry toward the bay. The shopping district is a mass of people walking between stores and pausing to look at the goods displayed in outdoor stalls.
“The tree isn’t lit yet!” Tillie cries. “Hurry!”
We head toward the canal, keeping our eye on the tree. Music from the live band on the big stage gets louder as we leave behind the shops and arrive at the walkway along the water.
Suddenly everyone is counting down. “Ten, nine, eight ...”
“It’s like New Year’s!” Tillie says.
On the one, the giant tree at the end of the canal lights up. A great cheer rises like a wave over the water.
“I got to see it!” Tillie kisses my cheek. “I thought for sure we’d be too late by the time we shut down.”
“I’m glad we made it.” My phone buzzes with a text from Anya. “They’re wondering where we are,” I tell Tillie. “Let’s move.”
We squeeze past tourists and locals lining up along the rail to see the parade. Finally, we make it down to the dock.
“There’s Mendo’s boat!” I pull Tillie to the left.
Anya stands near the front, waving in her Mrs.Claus swimsuit complete with a Santa hat. “Come on board!”
Mendo takes Tillie’s hand as she steps off the dock to the boat. When she’s safely on, he turns away.
“Hey!” I call. “Where’s my gentlemanly assistance?”
“I’m making off with your woman!” Mendo calls back.
