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“Um, not really. Nora loves it, and so does my mom, but I’m not a fan.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who doesn’t like Christmas,” she says as she looks at me, in a very judging way.
“Well, I’ve never met someone who didn’t know where they were,” I say, scoffing. “Didn’t you look at the map on your phone?”
“I don’t have a phone with me,” she says with sass, crossing her arms.
“It’s 2023, who doesn’t have a phone on them?”
“Me.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that,” I say. “Where do you live?”
“In the city.”
“This is a riveting conversation. Reminds me of the answers I get from Nora when she gets home from school.”
Out of nowhere, she lets out such a pure laugh that I find myself gripping the steering wheel tighter and glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. Does this woman have me under some kind of spell or something?
“Anyway, I’m taking you to Ben’s Auto Shop so we can get that car of yours towed. Ben’s great, you’ll like him. Hopefully, he can figure out what happened and then you can be on your way back to the city and to your phone.”
When the words are out of my mouth, she shivers and stares out the window, a million miles away.
The drive to the shop is pretty short and for the rest of the ride, we sit in silence. I keep stealing glances at her out of the corner of my eye but neither of us says anything, so I don’t push it. I turn on the radio in my car, and Christmas music blares through the speakers. I flick through the stations to discover Christmas music infiltrating every channel. I punch the power button on my dashboard with a heavy sigh, and the car is once again filled with silence.
After a few minutes, we pull up outside of the auto shop. I put the truck in park and turn off the engine.
“We’re here,” I say as I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Let’s see what he says.”
She scrambles to keep up as we exit the truck, and I can’t help but notice that her breathing has grown ragged, and she keeps looking back. My instincts kick in and I put my hand on her lower back and guide her into the shop. Heat transfers from her body to my hand, making me sweat. I hope she doesn’t notice.
When I remove my hand to step aside and open the door for her, she shifts her sunglasses to the top of her head, and we lock eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispers, holding my gaze.
The bell above the door jingles as it closes, breaking the spell.
“Brent, I thought that looked like you,” Ben says from behind the counter. He sets his newspaper down and shifts his attention to us.
An older man with gray hair, a small mustache, and suspenders, Ben has lived in Winterberry since before I was born. He’s a regular at Sally’s Diner and enjoys his breakfast and paper every morning with the other old guys.
Tinsel hangs from the ceiling and a large tree sits in the corner, adorned with ornaments that represent the shop—tires, cars, trucks, and tools. An old school train rides on a track high above our heads and it’s decorated for the season. Honestly, it’s a sight to see, and surely his wife’s doing.
“Hey Ben, the shop is all ready for Christmas I see.”
“Like it, Mr. Scrooge?” he asks with the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Very funny.” I gesture toward the meek woman beside me. “Ben, meet Penelope. She needs help with her car.”
“Ah, so you’re the one who backed up Main Street. Nice to meet you, Penelope.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” She shakes Ben’s hand. “How did you know about my car?”
“It’s a small town, love, word travels fast,” he says.
“Penelope here is from the city and would like to get home. Do you think you could take a look at her car?”
“Absolutely,” Ben says. “It’s quiet in here this morning so let’s get the tow truck out and see what’s going on.”
