AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sure, go ahead. But I’ve had that since college, so…be careful, y’know?”
“Careful’s my middle name.” He jammed the mallet in his belt and swaggered off. Tad winced at the way it bounced against his leg, threatening to slip free and vanish in the snow.
“He won’t lose it,” said Sarah. “Uncle Vern’s a kidder, but he wouldn’t be careless with someone else’s things.”
Tad took a deep breath and nodded, but this was how it started. A mallet here, a Grinch suit there, and soon he’d be caught in a web of who-owes-what.
“You’d better hurry with those chairs. We just have two hours left.”
Tad shook off his fretting and turned back to his work. He didn’t think he’d find his groove again, but the familiar burr of his drill soon settled his thoughts. He finished the chairs and went to check on Sarah. She set down her sander and looked up at him, lips tight.
“I tried to do the turkey skin, but it just looks like zits.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” said Tad. “And you did great on the bones, and the little bits of salad.”
“That’s supposed to be stuffing. And cranberry sauce.”
“Oh, yeah—there’s the cranberries.” Tad squinted at her creation. “It’s just hard to tell, with it all being one color.” He lifted the platter and set it on the table. Sarah was no Bernini, but she’d done a fine job. Her turkey had acne, but its shape was just right. Her plates were crooked, but she’d used snow to frost them with complex designs.
“I tried to do knives and forks, but, well…” She gestured at a pile of failed attempts, forks with one tine, knives cracked in two.
“It’s okay,” said Tad. “No one’s going to eat it. And besides—”
Val cut him off for the second time that day, a blast of her klaxon shattering the calm.
“And that’s time. Tools down.” She blew her klaxon again. “That means you too, Will. Quit sanding that beard.”
“He’s wasting his time,” said Mr. White. He’d drifted back over and was examining their masterpiece. “You two have won, or my name’s not Otto.”
Tad blinked at him. “Isthat your name?”
“Oh, that’s right,” said Mr. White. “We never were properly introduced. Otto White. Good to meet you.”
“Thaddeus Murphy, but I go by Tad.” He stuck out his hand and they shook.
“I was wondering,” said Otto, “Any chance you’d have time to do a real carpentry project? Like, within the next week?”
“What do you need done?”
“Not me. My son.” Otto pointed across the yard at a big, bearded man with a lumberjack’s build. “It’s his wife’s birthday next week, and he wants to get her a deck set. But he hasn’t been able to find just the right one. I figure, with your skills, you could give him exactly what he wants, made to order.”
Tad thought that over, doing the calculations in his head. He had just one week left to finish Sarah’s kitchen. Then her new fridge would arrive, and her oven, and her dishwasher. If the floor wasn’t done, she’d have no place to put them. Still, the wood was on its way, and it wouldn’t take long to lay it. He could spare a day or two, assuming nothing went wrong.
“Have him call me,” he said. “But have him do it tonight, or I might not have time.”
“Good man.” Otto clapped him on the back and strode off to find his son. Tad turned around to find Val back on Will’s truck.
“Okay, circle up,” she called. “The results are in, and third place goes to Taison’s team, with theirterrifyingScrooge.”
A laugh went up at that. Tad gaped at the thing, a cross between Nosferatu and some awful bridge troll.
“Don’t worry,” said Sarah. “We’re still in the game.” She slipped her hand into his and held on tight.
“Second place was a tough one. We’ve got two amazing contenders, each with its own strengths. Will’s Santa is more Christmassy, but true art makes you feel something, and Tad and Sarah’s Christmas dinner made me feelhungry.”
That got a bigger laugh, but Sarah had gone tense. Her lips were moving, a silent plea.
“Don’t stress,” said Tad. “Either way, we had fun.”
