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"When you two can be in a room together without arguing." I've been against the two of them dating since day one. A couple in love should be in constant harmony. They should know each other well enough they don't need words to communicate. Liam and Murphy are like fire and dynamite. It's only a matter of time before they explode and coat me in guts and brains.
"That's never going to happen." He reaches for another caramel, but I slap his hand and he backs off. Best friend or not, his limit is two five-dollar caramels. "What do you think? Seriously. She loves her place over the toy store, but my place is bigger and has a better kitchen. But you know how she is about a woman submitting to a man and losing her identity."
Murphy Mae's mother waits on her husband hand and foot and he yells at her and belittles her in return. It's made Murphy fiercely independent and terrified of falling into the same trap. "What's the worst that can happen? She dumps you and we go back to being the three Yulesketeers?" I hated that name when my grandmother gave it to us in third grade, but it's stuck none-the-less.
He slaps my back. "You're right. Murph's a rational, honest person. If she doesn't like the idea, she'll just tell me. You in for movie night this weekend?"
"Have I ever missed it?" Even if I do feel like a third-wheel now that my two best friends like to cuddle. I shudder. "My turn to pick the movie."
He sighs. "No more romantic comedies. It's supposed to be horror movies in December. You're the one who came up with it, remember?"
I've been choosing romantic comedies since they started dating in order to remind them what a happy coupleshouldlook and act like, which is the opposite of how they are together. "December just started last week, so the rule didn't apply."
It's not like we pay that much attention to the movie, anyway. We either turn it into a drinking game or talk through the whole thing. My romantic comedy plan had no effect whatsoever. In fact, last movie night, Murphy Mae and Liam got into a heated debate about whether it's romantic or creepy to watch someone sleep. I guess even I can't solve pig headed.
He heads toward the door, but stops and turns back, hood already pulled up. "Oh, yeah. There's a stand-off at the sledding hill. Sheriff Ned asked me to let you know. He feels a mayoral presence and a few words might calm tempers."
I sigh. This is the last thing I want to deal with today, but my buddy Landon, the real mayor, deserves to enjoy his time with his wife and infant son. If I don't deal with the town battle, someone will definitely call him and he's the kind of guy who has trouble watching his town struggle when he's capable of fixing it.
Liam steps toward me. "Want me to watch the store for you? I've got twenty minutes before I need to head over to the board meeting."
Liam is the director of our local theater, which puts on Christmas-themed plays all year long. It's a huge draw for the tourists and keeps Liam busier than he'd like to be.
The 'board' is a group of the oldest residents of Yuletide, all of whom have a financial stake in the theater, because they want a say in the plays that get performed and first shot at the best roles for their grandkids. Ten years ago a child star came out of Yuletide's community theater program and now everyone in town thinks their kid or grandkid's the next big star. Refereeing that crew isn't a job I'd ever want.
Refereeing the town for three months is more than enough for me.
"You don't even know how to run the register."
Liam's eternal smile slips. "That's because you won't teach me. I'm your best friend, let me help."
"I'm good. Business is slow today anyway." And Liam is busy enough with his own life. He doesn't need to add to that by helping me.
Liam shakes his head. "Someday you're going to have to learn to trust other people to help you out."
"I trust other people." I just do most things better on my own.
"Sure you do. See you this weekend." Liam blows out of the store, and it bothers me that he's walking away with a frown on his face. Nothing gets Liam down, not even his constant bickering with Murphy Mae. Somehow, though, I've managed to pull him down to my level of bad mood.
I lock up behind him, put the closed sign on the door, and head back to my office. It's a bit like wading through mud to walk past the kitchen and all the ideas I have for new candy recipes. So many ideas. And I've never been a patient man.
But I keep moving, because I'm a responsible adult. Damn it.
In my office, I pull on my heavy winter coat, scarf, hat, and gloves, trade my tennis shoes for boots, and head out the back door. My ancient truck, paint peeling, waits for me in the back lot. It's not pretty, but it's got a V-8 engine and has never let me down.
The sledding hill is on the other side of town, but town's not that big. I could easily walk if I didn't mind leaving my store closed for longer than necessary. I drive down Main Street, the snow covering the ubiquitous Christmas wreaths on every available post. Since it's overcast, the colorful lights strung in the trees and along the street are all glowing brightly. No delicate white lights for this town. It's all color all the time.
The sledding hill slopes down from the giant town Christmas tree. It's a live Douglas Fir that's been growing in that spot since before I was born and it's decorated all-year round, with the ornaments changing every few months. The fir trees around it are also decorated, but never to outshine the big daddy. The theme for the trees changes every couple of months and right now it's circus days, so it's even gaudier and brighter than ever.
I park and stomp up the snowy hill, dodging sledders, to where a group of locals, most of them older than sixty, are yelling at sledding kids and parents, most of whom are ignoring them.
Sheriff Ned Napier stands between the anti-sledding protesters and the kids, looking fed up. His eyes light when he sees me stomping up the hill. It's a big hill and steep, so he gestures toward me as I climb and every protester turns, some looking hopeful, but most looking disappointed. Everyone likes Landon better than me, but I'm what they've got because I'm Landon's friend and because no one else wanted this job.
"Xavier, tell them they can't sled on a snow day," Mrs. Ellerby, owner of Ellerby's Portraits, says. "These kids should be in school."
"Like I said, it's a teacher workday." Sheriff Ned holds up his hands. "And before you ask again, no, I cannot enforce a ten AM curfew."
Everyone talks at once, yelling over each other, but I don't have to hear them to know what they're saying.
