“Merry Christmas, Mr. Mayor!” Edith called from across the street.
Mary Margaret tried to slip her hand free.
“I’ve got to check in with my staff.” Kevin pulled Mary Margaret out of the foot traffic to the window in front of the Sewing Emporium. “Will I see you later at the tree lighting ceremony?”
“Yes.” She took a black knit cap from her pocket and pulled it on. “The Widows Club is selling hot chocolate. Make sure you bring Tad by for a cup.”
His son. Hot chocolate. Kevin’s shoulders tensed.
He had to find his ex-wife and have a discussion about their son and calorie counting.
Chapter Eight
All I want for Christmas…
The song was playing on the speakers in the town square. Mary Margaret didn’t dare complete that thought as Kevin disappeared into the crowd.
“Rough day, Mrs. Claus?” Mr. Hardy materialized at Mary Margaret’s right shoulder. “You look spent.”
“Those little angels can be hell.” The tall Mr. Laurel bookended her on the left, red stir stick in the corner of his mouth.
Grandma Edith called her name. She had yet to cross the street. Mary Margaret led the men away from her.
“Gentlemen, you don’t need to follow me.” Unless they’d decided she wasn’t able to zero-out Derek’s balance owed and had decided to rub her out. “I’m gathering funds.”
Fear tingled through her veins. Somehow, Mary Margaret kept walking down Main Street toward the town square, even though her legs felt like kinked pipe cleaners. Since the last time she’d paid them, she’d earned two grand. Helping Ned turn his business around was increasing her profit.
Mr. Hardy chuckled. “Given there’s not much to do in this town, we’re curious about where—or if—you’re earning extra money.”
The pipe cleaners developed another set of kinks. Mary Margaret’s steps faltered. She stopped. The gathering darkness closed in. Grandma Edith’s calls grew louder.
“Hope you got paid good money for that Claus gig.” Mr. Hardy assumed the hip-rocking position, legs spread, hands in his jacket pockets. “’Cuz you know you need to maximize your income.”
Ahead on the town square, the local Victorian choir began to sing “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.” Store windows sparkled with lights and gift ideas. Shoppers laughed and gave voice to snatches of carols. Sunshine was picturesque and peaceful. There should be no darkness here, no threat. Just as there should have been no darkness or threat as a child of a minister.
The unfairness of her situation shored up her shaky legs and pushed that rebellious streak she tried to contain up her throat. “If you were looking for lunch money, I donated my pay.” It was the kind of comment that used to test her father’s patience.
“That wasn’t smart, considering your position.” Mr. Laurel’s expression saddened. The stir stick drooped. “We’ll be by on Sunday morning for our next payment.”
“And it better be a big one.” Mr. Hardy broke away from her, crossing the street toward the movie theater with his tall partner following in his footsteps.
Mary Margaret shivered.
“Hey.” Grandma Edith appeared at her side, panting. “Didn’t you hear me calling your name?”
“No. Sorry.”
Edith walked ahead a few paces and then returned to claim Mary Margaret’s arm and tug her along. “Don’t dally. We’ve got hot chocolate to sell.” And then she huffed. “It’s not like they’re going to let us sing in the choir.”
Mary Margaret’s legs worked but were stiff and stilted.
“Are those new boots?” Edith admired the black boots that had escaped Louise’s upset stomach. “Do they hurt your feet? Is that why you’re walking funny?”
A group of teenagers crossed their path. The Bodine twins nodded a greeting.
“We love our tutor,” one of them said with a laugh that made Mary Margaret grind her teeth since it wasn’t true.
“You’re tutoring the Bodine boys?” Edith adjusted her cream-colored scarf beneath her bright red hair and hurried to keep up with Mary Margaret. “Good. I recommended you to Tom. I was hoping he’d ask you out.”
“I thought you said I wasn’t ready to date.” Mary Margaret’s gaze drifted toward the center tree where Kevin stood surrounded by his staff. If he knew about her real second job at the Hanky Panky, he’d stop being her friend, stop trying to be something more. She wasn’t sure she could bear that.
What a fool I am.
Edith followed the direction of her gaze, smirking. “Kevin. After some consideration, I don’t think he’s right for you. Why don’t you come over tonight? We’ll put on music, make cookies, and dance around the kitchen while we talk about our dating prospects.” She turned Mary Margaret’s shoulders toward the far end of the town square. “Tom Bodine is single. And you’re brave enough to help his boys.”
“Tom Bodine is at least a decade older than I am.” And unyielding when it came to disagreements.
“Come over to dance.” Grandma Edith gave her a one-armed hug. “There are other single men in town. Maybe not as wealthy as Tom but—”
“I have plans tonight.” She was dancing elsewhere.
“What? You’ll turn down cookies and pop music?” Her grandmother tsked. “Are we still on for our annual trip to get a Christmas tree tomorrow?”
Mary Margaret wanted to say no but she nodded. Just because her holiday spirit was at an all-time low didn’t mean she had to bring Grandma Edith down with her.
Across the street, Laurel and Hardy leaned against a light pole, staring their way. Mr. Laurel’s shoulders were hunched against the cold.
As they neared the hot chocolate table, Mary Margaret glanced up at the sky and its smattering of clouds. “Is it supposed to snow tonight?”
“Not until tomorrow morning.” Edith stared right back at Laurel and Hardy, feet slowing, mouth drawn toward one side, a predictor of trouble.
It was Mary Margaret’s turn to tug her grandmother along. “Can I borrow Grandpa’s motorcycle?”
“You want to tool around on two wheels with snow on the ground?”
“There’s no snow on the ground. They plowed the roads.” The important ones between here and Greeley. And like any Sunshine resident, Mary Margaret knew where there was the likelihood of black ice.
“I always thought you took Derek’s passing a little too well.” Grandma Edith shook her head. “This is your meltdown then? Some odd phase of grief where you date a dangerous man? Or are you testing your mortality on two wheels?”
“Don’t overthink this, Grandma.” Mary Margaret turned her back on the thugs in case they could read lips, which meant she faced Kevin at the podium. “I want to go somewhere, and I don’t want anyone to recognize my car.”
“Oh. Incognito. That’s an entirely different story.” Grandma Edith glanced toward a cluster of women standing near Kevin, a cluster which included Barbara, who held Tad’s hand but stared at her ex-husband the way a hawk stared at plump, young prairie dogs. “Did the former Mrs. Mayor find out you had a drink with Mr. Mayor at Shaw’s the other night?”
“Shhh.” Mary Margaret drew her grandmother close. “How did you—”
“Mims had closed-circuit cameras installed at the bar,” Edith said, straight-faced. And then she laughed. “That’s a fib. I saw Noah at the grocery store, and he asked if you were all right. Apparently, you ordered a daiquiri and then bolted, which had him worried. The only way you’d be worried in a bar was if you were afraid Barbara might find out you and the mayor were running around incognito.”
“I wasn’t thinking of Barbara when I ordered that daiquiri.”
“Ahhh.” Grandma Edith slowed to a stop, attention drawn to the Victorian choir gathering near Kevin. “You found someone other than Kevin. That’s my girl.”
Mary Margaret sighed. It wasn’t worth the time it would take to convince Grandma Edith otherwise. “Does this mean I can borrow the bike?”
“As long as y
ou promise me you’ll be careful on the road but a little wild in…” She giggled. “You get the idea.”
Mary Margaret let her grandmother make assumptions. She faced her fellow widows. “How can I help?”
“Edith, did I hear you say Mary Margaret is dating?” Mims wore a thick brown jacket with lots of utility pockets and a welcoming smile. Her hair had been washed with silver rinse, and all her white curls had been gelled into short spikes that waved in the wind like a wheat field.
Barbara’s work. Not her best.
“No, I’m not seeing anyone,” Mary Margaret said at the same time her grandmother said, “She’s found a mystery man.” Grandma Edith made it sound exciting.
“I’m getting out in the world,” Mary Margaret allowed, because the Widows Club board had been nothing but kind to her since Derek’s death. “I like what you’ve done with your hair, Mims.”
The Widows Club president blushed and glanced across the square at the Victorian choir where David Jessup was smiling at any woman over the age of sixty in his vicinity.
“I like it too.” Clarice leaned on her wooden staff. “It’s important to remember you’re widowed, not dead.”
“And to let yourself have fun once in a while.” Bitsy wore a pristine white jacket with faux fur trim and a jaunty beret that she pulled off with more ease than Mary Margaret had done in the pet store.
“It’s normal to feel a bit of guilt when you re-enter the dating pool,” Mims said, color high in her cheeks. She stared at David, who was laughing with several widows from the general club membership.
“When a widow finds the right man…” Edith stared at David too and fussed with the fringe of auburn hair peeking beneath her knit cap. “It hits you like a slap in the face.”
“A gentle whisper,” Bitsy said longingly.
“A warm bath,” Mims murmured.
Clarice harrumphed, making the other widows laugh.
* * *
“Can you give me a ho-ho-ho?” Kevin stood in front of the largest pine tree in the town square, microphone in hand, working the crowd. “That’s the spirit. If there’s one thing you can count on in Sunshine, it’s the long list of traditions we keep alive at the holidays. Tonight, we’re lighting up Sunshine and our local Christmas Tree Lane. Tomorrow, many of you will make the trek to The Woodsman’s Tree Farm for your Christmas tree. In a few weeks, we’ve got the Christmas parade and a Christmas ball.”
The Widows Club cheered, understandable since they were the Christmas Ball sponsor.
Kevin scanned the crowd, eyes lighting on Mary Margaret. “I’d like to thank our town staff for putting up the lights tonight and the Widows Club for providing us with hot chocolate to keep us warm. Shaw’s is extending happy hour until an hour after the lighting.” He hoped Mary Margaret would attend. “The Widows Club will have a booth set up at Shaw’s with gift advice, in case anyone needs it.”
“Daddy.” Tad tugged Kevin’s jacket. “When are the lights coming on?”
“Soon.” Kevin picked up his son. “Can you lead the town in a countdown?”
Tad nodded, grinning at the crowd. His son was comfortable in the spotlight and at the town hall.
But what about at Hadley’s Furniture? And what about at the Saddle Horn?
The crowd shifted, restless. Kevin had a lot to work out, and now wasn’t the time to do so.
“We’re going to start at five and count backward. The lights will burn bright when we reach one.” Kevin jiggled Tad. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah!” Tad shot one arm in the air, so enthusiastic he made Kevin’s heart ache.
He couldn’t allow Barb to steal their son’s joy. And somehow he had to make sure Hadley Furniture would be there if his career stalled or if Tad ever wanted to carry on the business.
Putting the microphone near Tad, Kevin began the countdown. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One!”
The trees rimming the town square glowed with strands of white lights.
The assembled crowd cheered, turning slowly to appreciate the contrast of greenery and light. The old brick buildings surrounding the town square were blanketed in snow, windows glowing warmly. The town had a cozy, Dickensian feel.
The Victorian choir began to sing “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” They sounded really good this year.
We are so lucky.
Kevin’s gaze drifted to his parents, who stood arm-in-arm at the front of the crowd, smiling and laughing with their neighbors.
This is why no one wants Sunshine to change.
“Hot chocolate time.” Tad slid to the ground, waited for Kevin to give him some money, and then ran to the Widows Club table.
Kevin handed off the microphone to one of his staff and followed.
Victor Yates, town council member and all-around prune of a person, stepped in his path. “You talk about traditions like you care. If you cared, you wouldn’t support the distribution center.”
“Not now, Victor.” Kevin must not have sounded authoritative enough because Victor only got louder.
“You’ll have to add more staff to the fire and sheriff’s departments.” Victor’s volume and upset tone drew the attention of many, including Barb. “And you know crime is going to go up. One thousand parking spaces. That’s a lot of employees.”
“Careful, Victor.” Kevin clung to his patience with the same tenacity Victor held on to his seat on the town council every election cycle. “Sunshine residents will be considered for jobs first. You wouldn’t want to accuse your constituents of being criminals.”
Victor swept that argument away with one gloved hand. “What about the quality of our drinking water? They won’t be dumping chemicals into the river, will they?”
“If you’d read the environmental report, you’d know that’s not true.” Kevin scowled. “They’re storing and distributing pre-made goods, not manufacturing.” He tried to push past the older man.
Victor stepped in his way again. “It’s not like we need the jobs, Kevin. Our unemployment rate is less than five percent.”
“That’s because most folks who can’t find jobs move out of town and don’t get counted as unemployed.” That was it. Kevin’s patience was lost. In its place, he found pulse-pounding anger. “You know this. Your nephew moved to Greeley last summer for just that reason.”
“Don’t tell me what I should know!” Victor roared. “Or you won’t be the only name on the mayoral ballot next year.”
The wind shimmied through the trees, trying just as hard to unsettle the Christmas lights as Victor was trying to unsettle Kevin.
“Hi.” Mary Margaret separated herself from the thickening audience surrounding them. “Kevin, can I talk to you in private?”
“Excuse me, Victor.” Kevin marched toward the hot chocolate table, muttering, “Merry Christmas,” to anyone foolish enough to look like they might stand in his way.
“You looked like a man in need of a rescue.” Mary Margaret had long legs that kept pace with him. “Or maybe a spiked hot chocolate. Slip Mims an extra five, and she’s got you covered.”
“Thanks.” Kevin’s entire body vibrated with tension.
Tad darted through the crowd toward Barb, hot chocolate in hand. Kevin hadn’t yet had a chance to pull his ex-wife aside and have that our-son-is-not-fat conversation.
Barb was surrounded by a cluster of her busybody friends. Heads turned toward Mary Margaret and Kevin as they passed. Jaws moved as they exchanged gossip and speculation.
He gave them a casual wave, stopping a good distance between them and the hot chocolate table. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Mary Margaret. I couldn’t face Victor with as much patience and grace as you showed with Louise earlier.”
“Louise innocently upchucked on me.” Mary Margaret glanced back at Victor, her red hair streaming in the wind beneath her black cap. “Victor was itching to start a fight in front of all these voters.” But she nodded toward Barb and her friends when she said it.
“I may have divorced her but Ba
rb is on my side.” Kevin was certain of it.
“Don’t kid yourself.” Mary Margaret shook her head. “The more independent you become, the louder she’ll voice her opinions against you.”
Kevin started to deny it but on some level he knew what Mary Margaret said was true. “I hadn’t realized you knew Barb so well.”
“I don’t.” Mary Margaret’s expression blinked from carefully neutral to carefully contained hurt. “My father was just like her.” She ran a hand around the back of her neck. “Controlled, civil even, until people chose independence over obedience.”
Kevin wanted to take Mary Margaret into his arms and hold her until the memories of dark days receded. But everyone was watching. He held her gaze instead. “If I could, I’d soothe all the pain in your past. And I’d give you my extra holiday cheer.”
“You have some?” she teased.
“Yes.” Kevin wanted to tell her he could be her rock but there was something in the way she held herself, stiffly and apart, not with pride but with endurance. She hadn’t let her father break her. At the moment, it didn’t look like she was going to let Derek’s foolish decisions snap her either.
Mary Margaret squeezed his forearm. “Be careful with Barbara, for Tad’s sake and your career. You’re a politician. You have to be careful with everyone about everything.”
“If you say I have to be careful with you…” Kevin didn’t know how to complete that sentence. Luckily, his cell phone rang. He excused himself to take the call.
“I know it’s late on a Friday night,” Cray said. “But can you meet me at the silos? Alone?”
The future site of the controversial distribution center?
Kevin agreed.
Chapter Nine
Why does this feel like a mob meeting?” Kevin said to Cray upon arrival at the silos.
His parents had gladly taken Tad for the night, although his dad hadn’t looked Kevin in the eye when he’d asked. There was a rift between them that needed mending.
A Very Merry Match--Includes a Bonus Novella Page 14
