“All entries must be in writing,” Mims said with a slight hint of impatience. She turned her back on Edith and faced the judges. “We have poets of all ages tonight, and all poems must have a wholesome holiday theme.” Hence the written pre-screen.
“Written?” Edith frowned. “I thought there’d be back and forth.”
“Grandma.” Mary Margaret grabbed Edith’s hand and tugged. “That’s a rap battle.”
“No.” Lola Taylor twisted around from her seat in the front row. She sat next to her husband, the sheriff. “You’re thinking of a riff-off for a capella singers.”
Sheriff Drew and Lola. They’d become a happy couple about the time Drew’s marriage imploded. There weren’t many happy couples in attendance. The Marleys frumped next to each other. The Smiths weren’t even sitting together.
“If you’re just reading poetry, where does the slam come in?” Edith surveyed the crowd, looking for answers.
No one responded, although Mims frowned.
Mary Margaret tried to pull her grandmother back into her seat but the little old lady resisted.
Kevin jumped into the void in an attempt to smooth things over. “I think slam was used in the title to make it sound cool. A poetry slam sounds better than a poetry reading.”
“You’re right.” Appeased, Edith sat down. “Thank you. I’d never be caught dead at a poetry reading.”
“Did you want to leave?” Mary Margaret looked like she was biting down on a smile, more so when her grandmother insisted upon staying.
Kevin caught Mary Margaret’s gaze. His grin earned him a hesitant smile, one that took hold like a shake to the shoulders and said, Foxy Roxy who?
Edith leaned in front of Mary Margaret and winked at Kevin, which made the object of his interest blush.
The first poet took the microphone. It was Augie Bruce, who owned the mortuary. He slapped a slow beat on his thigh. “Old man Santa. Went to Atlanta. Drank some Fanta. Old man Santa.”
“Two Santas,” Tad murmured, awed.
“Everything rhymed.” Clarice smoothed a gray braid and leaned over to murmur, “Winner, winner, chicken dinner, Tad.”
“Careful, that’s only the first contestant,” Kevin whispered, before asking Augie to perform his poem again.
The next contestant was David Jessup, who nodded when Edith and Mims waved at him, and again when a trio of retirement home residents hooted their support. “Christmas in Sunshine.” He paused dramatically, smoothing his reindeer tie. “Snow.” Another pause. “Pretty lights.” Another pause. David used those breaks to make eye contact with different women in the room. “Love takes flight.” He smiled, accented with a sweeping head nod that managed to encompass all his female admirers. “Christmas in Sunshine.” And then he bowed.
The elderly ladies in the room gave him a standing ovation, including Clarice.
Kevin thought David’s delivery was a little heavy-handed.
“Why did Mr. Jessup talk so slow?” Tad asked.
“That’s haiku.” Kevin had done a cursory poetry search before showing up tonight. He asked David to recite his pick-up lines once more.
“He’s good,” Clarice murmured when David glanced her way during the second recitation. “This is going to be tough.”
Wendy Adams, the school secretary, claimed the mic next. She was dressed in black from head to toe and had put a black beret over her short blond hair. “Christmas is red and green, it’s true. Christmas is fun, fun-fun-fun for me and you. Christmas is shiny and sparkly, you bet. But under the mistletoe, Christmas is the best.”
That received heartfelt chuckles and strong applause.
“I don’t get it.” Tad twisted in Kevin’s lap. Green frosting ringed his lips.
“She referenced a kiss under the mistletoe.” Kevin cleaned Tad’s face with a napkin and asked Wendy for a second run-through.
“Amusing.” Clarice chuckled and made notes. “But not the best rhyme.”
The poetry continued. Who knew so many residents were interested in verse?
Kevin’s mind drifted to Mary Margaret, to curiosity about the texture of her hair and the softness of her lips.
When the winners had been announced and a grand prize trophy awarded to Augie, Kevin sought out Mary Margaret while Tad went for more refreshments.
“That was an amusing evening,” Kevin said when he reached her side.
Edith had been craning her neck, presumably searching for the catch of the day, David, who was ringed by his many single admirers. At Kevin’s arrival, she turned to look him up and down. “I…I…I don’t know what to do.” Her gaze turned toward the throng around David and then back to Kevin. “I’m torn between my vice presidential duties and…” She put David in her sights again.
Mary Margaret chuckled. “I’ve never known you to hesitate in going after what you want, Grandma.”
“You’re right.” Edith took Mary Margaret’s hands. The white pom of her Santa hat swung across her cheek. “Even though you haven’t put up your mistletoe, you’re ready to date again. I just know it.” She winked at Kevin. “You both deserve a second go-round, as do I.” She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and plowed her way into the throng of David Jessup worshippers, who congregated by the Victorian choir practice schedule.
“Ignore my grandmother,” Mary Margaret said apologetically, cheeks blossoming with color.
“I’ll try.” With Edith, that was sometimes a Herculean task.
Mary Margaret was just the distraction the divorce doctor ordered. She was tall and had intelligent blue eyes and that mane of long, thick red hair that begged to be touched. Kevin could barely remember what Foxy Roxy looked like.
Mary Margaret cleared her throat. “Why do I feel like everyone’s staring at us?”
Kevin scanned the crowd. Hardly anyone was paying attention to them. And why would they? The retirement crowd was focused on its most eligible bachelor. Kevin was just the boring mayor, and Mary Margaret was just the sweet kindergarten teacher.
“No one’s looking at us.” Still, they couldn’t just stand there like seventh graders at their first dance.
Her gaze drifted to his mouth—hallelujah!—but there was a wrinkle to her brow.
“Did you want to ask me something?” he prompted.
She sized him up, lips parted, hesitating.
He recognized the need for small talk. “What’s it like working for Jason?”
She looked stricken.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You must not have gotten the job.” What a shlub he was for even bringing it up.
“Don’t be sorry.” Something opened in Mary Margaret’s otherwise closed-off expression. “I was fired. Although it wasn’t completely my fault. I can do clerical work but not handle product collection.” She grimaced. “If you get my meaning.”
He did. The line for the refreshments had dwindled to manageable. Tad was admiring Augie’s trophy, a Snickerdoodle in each hand. “This calls for a cookie.” If there were any left.
“I shouldn’t.” But there was a smile teasing the corner of her lips.
He wanted to kiss that smile into full bloom.
“You should.” He began walking, pausing when he realized she hadn’t followed. “What? You think you’re the only person to ever be fired or lose a job over a mistake?” He waved her toward his side. “In college, I lost my job as a pizza delivery boy when my car broke down and my cell phone died. Trust me. You need comfort food and the kind words of a commiserate firee.” When she dragged her feet, he had to probe. “Don’t tell me you’re hesitating because you count calories.”
Mary Margaret’s smile took its full shape. There was no more hesitation as she accompanied Kevin to what remained of the treats. “If you knew how many parents send cookies to school for snack time, you wouldn’t ask that question.”
“And now we’re in the season of candy canes.” Kevin gestured toward the tree, which was decorated with several large ones.
“I have no will pow
er.” She picked up a chocolate chip cookie and took a big bite.
“Me either.” Before Kevin knew what he was doing, he chose a boring, round sugar cookie. He should have taken a frosted star or a piece of baklava.
“You ate the last plain sugar cookie,” Mary Margaret said accusingly. “Those are my favorite. Some people think they’re boring but I love them.”
Smiling, Kevin took a bite. The cookie was perfect. The moment was perfect. She was perfect.
He opened his mouth to ask her out and—
“Kevin.” Disrupting perfection, Barbara’s loud voice had the entire room turning.
Everyone, that is, except Kevin.
The sheriff and Lola took that as their cue to leave. Understandable, since Barb had been having an affair with Lola’s first husband before he died.
“Maybe we should step away from the cookies.” Mary Margaret’s smile faded from her expression as her cookie crumbled in her fingers.
Kevin clasped Mary Margaret’s elbow. “Please, don’t.”
She made a miniscule move to free herself and then shrugged her shoulders into a more relaxed position. Her gaze flickered over his shoulder. “There’s a storm blowing in.”
“Hurricane Barbara,” he confirmed, battening down the hatches where his temper was stored.
“Kevin.” Barbara stopped next to them and crossed her arms. “I’m here to pick up Tad so I can take him to the dentist first thing in the morning.”
“He’s practicing rhymes with Ms. Adams and Augie.” Mary Margaret pointed across the room.
“Go get him for me, Kev,” Barbara said in a hard voice, staring at their son’s teacher.
And leave Mary Margaret to you, the she-wolf? Not a chance.
Kevin called Tad over and lifted him into his arms when he arrived. “Did you have a good time, buddy?”
“I was the best judge ever, wasn’t I, Ms. Sneed?” Tad tilted nearly sideways to reach for a cookie, trusting Kevin to keep him out of harm’s way.
“You were The Awesome in the judging sauce, my friend.” Mary Margaret had moved to the end of the table, ostensibly to pour herself a glass of punch, but her gaze darted from Edith to the door.
“Let’s go, Tad. It’s a school night.” Barbara snatched him from Kevin. “You’ve had too many cookies, I bet.” Barb’s frown was meant to censure Kevin. To Barb—someone who’d always been rail thin—her son was obese and imperfect.
That broke Kevin’s heart more than their divorce had, which Kevin suddenly realized told him a lot about the depth of his love for Barb. “It’s the holiday season,” Kevin told her. “A few extra cookies never hurt anyone.”
“Extra cookie eaters grow up to be extra beer drinkers.” Barb arched her penciled brows and hugged Tad closer. “You’re getting a reputation as a drinker, Kev. That won’t help you in an election year. Remember what I told you voters want. The scrutiny will be worse at the state level.”
Kevin pressed his lips together, refusing to be baited.
His ex-wife decided she’d won this round and turned, carrying Tad away.
Kevin’s heart panged, the way it did every time he had to let Tad go.
“Good night, Daddy.” Tad waved, smiling. Like Edith, it took a lot to get him down.
“Good night, buddy.”
When Kevin turned back around, Mary Margaret was gone.
* * *
“Why did we have to leave?” Edith was still putting on her jacket when they exited the retirement home. The wind blew her Santa pom straight back. “David was just about to ask me out, I think.” She gave Mary Margaret one of her grandmotherly huffs. “Did you forget to record one of your TV shows?”
“No.” Mary Margaret had let Kevin’s sexy stubbled chin and sultry smile breach her resolve against bad decisions. She had no time for romance.
Snow was falling, stirred about on a chilly wind that sought bare skin. On the other side of the road in the town proper, Christmas lights glowed a welcome on nearly every street and building. Mary Margaret refused to be cheered.
“Did you get an inappropriate touch from the mayor?” Edith clutched her coat closed, still digging for the reason behind their hasty departure. “I can find you someone else.”
“No.” Mary Margaret towed her grandmother along, their steps crunching through a thin layer of snow. “Please stop trying to fix me up.”
“I bet the two of you ignored my dating pep talk,” Grandma Edith grumbled. “Here I am, trying to do my duty…”
Two figures separated themselves from the shadow of the minivan that was parked next to Mary Margaret’s sedan.
She pulled up short, cold air biting the back of her throat, fear freezing her from the inside out.
“Hello, Mrs. Sneed.” Mr. Hardy had his hands in his leather jacket pockets and his feet spread shoulder width apart. His hips moved side to side, like those plastic hula dolls they sold every summer at the dollar store in Greeley.
“Evening.” Mr. Laurel had succumbed to mountain temperatures. He’d added a knit cap and thick blue scarf to his thin leather jacket. The red stir stick he chewed was crinkled, possibly bent out of shape by chattering teeth.
Mary Margaret muttered a greeting. She should’ve threaded her keys like extended claws between her fingers before they’d left the retirement home. But she hadn’t. And now Derek’s trouble was putting her grandmother at risk.
“If we’re going to keep meeting like this, I feel we should be introduced.” Edith’s comment lacked her normal bluster.
“Laurel. Hardy. Meet my grandmother.” Mary Margaret stood in front of Edith and tried to pretend the two men were an annoyance, not a threat. “What do you want, fellas?”
“An update.” Mr. Hardy’s hips rocked faster. “You don’t seem to be working all that hard on meeting our payment demands.”
The cookie in Mary Margaret’s stomach shattered into sharp shards of distress.
“Good paying employment is hard to find,” Mary Margaret said, not without feeling a bit guilty. She hadn’t given Ned at the Hanky Panky her answer regarding his job offer.
“Glad to meet you, miss.” Mr. Laurel removed the stir stick from his mouth and smiled at Grandma Edith, who didn’t seem to know what to make of him. “I believe we already gave you advice in the employment quarter.”
“Advice rejected.” Mary Margaret wasn’t stooping to robbing from her neighbors while she cleaned their toilets.
“Honey.” Grandma Edith gazed up at Mary Margaret. “Did you sign up for a pyramid scheme? Is that why they want money?” She lowered her voice. “You know that’s illegal.”
Mr. Hardy frowned.
Mr. Laurel swiveled his stir stick from one side of his mouth to the other and regarded Grandma Edith with continued interest.
Heaven help them, her grandmother didn’t back down. “I’ve seen these men before. At the bakery and…outside your house? Did they show up at your door and ask to see your utility bill without proper identification?” Edith’s voice was still low but loud enough for the two men to hear. “You know AARP says that’s a scam.”
“That’s not it, Grandma.” Mary Margaret didn’t take her focus from the two goons.
Snow swirled around them, the flakes getting larger, the flurries thicker, blocking out the cheerful Christmas lights in Sunshine proper.
“And then there’s the predators who pretend to be policemen,” Grandma Edith continued. “They buy old cruisers and put a flashing light on top to pull you over.” She surveyed the parking lot. “I don’t ever get pulled over, but if you do, AARP says you shouldn’t roll your windows down for anyone without a uniform and identification.”
Mr. Laurel tried to cover a laugh by coughing.
“You won’t see these two in a police cruiser.” At least not in the front seat. It was Mary Margaret’s turn to shiver.
Mr. Hardy’s thick dark brows lowered dangerously on his broad forehead, as if he was unused to Edith’s babbling.
“Good evening.�
� Kevin came up behind them, looking too good for gambling debts and shakedowns in his long, camel-colored wool coat.
Mr. Hardy stared at Kevin’s legs, as if he was calculating how much force would be needed to break them.
Mary Margaret thought she might faint.
“Mr. Mayor.” Edith turned to Kevin. “I think these scammers are trying to get money out of my granddaughter.”
Without a word, Mr. Laurel faded into the shadows on the other side of the minivan.
“We’ll be in touch,” Mr. Hardy said, before following suit.
The snow turned as thick as whipping cream, surrounding them in a cold, wet bubble, flakes hissing louder than the alarms ringing in Mary Margaret’s ears. Or maybe that was the air in her tires. Her car began sinking lower on the far side.
“Mary Margaret?” Kevin’s hands gripped her shoulders. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
They slit my tires.
She clutched her throat.
Being Derek Sneed’s widow was turning out to be more dangerous than a sideline job as a bull sperm collector.
“I’m going to start packing heat, like Mims does.” Edith scowled. “I’ll need a bigger purse. Sunshine is no longer safe.” She looked Kevin up and down. “Aren’t you supposed to do something about this? Call the cops? Arrest them for harassment?”
“I…” Mary Margaret cleared her throat. The last thing she needed was her grandmother getting a gun. “They didn’t actually do anything, other than be creepy. My tires…” Her slit tires. “They haven’t been holding air.”
“I’m going to call the sheriff and drive you two ladies home.” Kevin ignored Mary Margaret’s protests and did just that, hustling them into his fancy SUV. “Drew said he’d keep an eye out for those men, but until they break the law…you ladies should be careful.”
“Careful requires thought. You put me in the front seat, Kevin.” Edith harrumphed, clearly unhappy with her mayor. “I take back what I said earlier. You two aren’t ready to date. You didn’t even think through our seating assignments.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of age before beauty?” Kevin took Edith’s attitude in stride. “Besides, I’m dropping you off first.”
A Very Merry Match--Includes a Bonus Novella Page 8
