The thought gave her pause. She glanced at Mims, her face almost more familiar than Charlie’s had been.
Mims shouldered her purse, bumping Edith out of the way in the process. “Home is important. A safe place you always defend.” She bumped Edith with her bag again. Her big, bulky bag.
Like Edith cared that Mims was packing heat. Mims was all talk when it came to defending her turf. Why, just last spring she’d had a raccoon in her attic. Instead of shooting it, she’d trapped it, drove up to Saddle Horn Pass, and released it.
“Oh, look, David.” Edith grabbed his hand and skipped away from Mims, dragging him along. “What a beautiful tree.” She stopped in front of an eight-footer. “What do you think? Is it perfect?” She batted her eyes.
“Edith, you should be careful.” David cradled her face in his gloved hands.
Her heart raced. She batted her eyes with more fervor. A kiss? So soon? And in front of Mims? It was all Edith could do not to stretch up on her toes and—
“There’s a stiff wind blowing, Edith.” David peered at her. “And it looks like you’ve got something in your eye.”
“Oh.” Oh, shoot. She’d forgotten he was a retired optometrist. “Did you get it? Is it gone?” She blinked some more, trying to entice him closer.
“All clear.” He set her aside. “This is a gorgeous tree but it’s too big for my apartment. What about you, Mims? You have that big formal living room.”
“It’s too big. It wouldn’t work in Edith’s house either.” Mims managed to hip check Edith aside. “She’s got short ceilings. We should look over here.” She hooked her arm through David’s and set off, leaving Edith sulking behind them.
What was she doing wrong? It had been more than fifty years since she’d flirted with a man. Surely the old rules still applied—conveniently close, an ever-present smile, and never a bad word to say about anyone.
Except for Mims. Edith narrowed her eyes. She’d break the rules for Mims.
And once she had David’s engagement ring on her finger, they could go back to being best friends.
“There you are, Grandma Edith.” Mary Margaret rounded a large tree. “It’s time to go.”
“But I haven’t gotten a tree.” Edith jerked her head toward David and tried to infuse her words with their real meaning: I haven’t gotten my man.
“We’ll get a tree another day.” Mary Margaret latched on to Edith’s arm. “I have to go.”
Mims and David turned, staring at them with concern.
“Is there an emergency?” Edith asked, moving despite her reluctance.
Mary Margaret’s mouth worked until she finally admitted, “Yes.”
Edith didn’t believe her, not completely, but she went along anyway, because something had happened to her granddaughter; something had upset her. And Edith wasn’t so selfish as to put her desire to nab a man ahead of her granddaughter’s happiness.
If only Mary Margaret would confess what was upsetting her.
Chapter Eleven
It wasn’t enough that she’d had to turn down Kevin at the Christmas tree farm. Now she had thugs outside her door?
Merry Christmas.
Laurel and Hardy got out of their big Town Car, looking as downtrodden and sleep-deprived as Mary Margaret felt.
Desperation fueled her anger. She marched to the end of her driveway and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why is it that you say I’ve got a few days to gather my next payment and then you dog me constantly? I’m trying to operate in good faith, and yet here you are.”
“We wouldn’t be doing our job if we didn’t make you nervous.” Tall Mr. Laurel swiveled his red stir stick out of the way so he could push his chin to one side and crack his neck.
Mr. Hardy backhanded his partner in the stomach. “It would be nice if you gave us your payment a day early. We’re under a bit of pressure from our boss.”
Mr. Laurel pushed his chin toward his other shoulder, cracking his neck once more. “He doesn’t like us racking up expenses in Colorado. We spent last night at a truck stop by the interstate.”
Mr. Hardy slapped his partner in the stomach once more.
They scowled at each other.
Mr. Laurel blinked first, swiveling the red stir stick in his mouth. “Besides, it’s cold here. I wasn’t made for the cold.” He caught Mr. Hardy’s hand before he was struck again.
“I’d be happy to send you payments via check or bank transfer.” Not just happy. She’d be ecstatic.
“You must first establish our trust,” Hardy said, still scowling at his partner. “Can we come inside and collect our next payment?”
Mary Margaret got the heebie-jeebies, the kind that skittered down her back and leaped into her throat. “You can wait on the front stoop while I write you a check.” No way was she letting these men inside her house. She turned and hurried toward the door.
“No takers on your ATV?” Mr. Laurel asked.
“No takers.” And boy, she’d been trying. She’d asked some kids in line at the Santa event if they wanted one for Christmas and then some people at the hot chocolate table last night.
Mary Margaret triple-locked the door behind her before she went to search for her checkbook. When she had the check written, she unlocked the front door and handed Mr. Hardy the draft. “That’s twenty-five hundred dollars.” All the dance money she’d deposited this week. She’d been making cash deposits at the branch in Greeley to avoid town gossip.
“Have you been holding out on us?” Mr. Hardy stared at her check. “I thought you were broke.”
“Never mind how I made the money.” She gripped the door handle. “You owe me three hundred for two new tires.”
“I can’t extend credit.” Mr. Hardy walked away. “That’s not how shakedowns work.”
“But…” Mary Margaret sagged against the door frame. “I’m honoring my husband’s debt. The least you can do is be honorable in return.”
“She’s got a point.” Mr. Laurel nodded, and then an odd expression came over his face. Almost as if he was embarrassed. “How’s your granny? I haven’t seen her today.”
“You stay away from my grandmother.” Mary Margaret channeled the ferocity of a Chihuahua. “If you harm a hair on her head, you’ll be sorry.”
Mr. Laurel held up his hands in surrender. “It’s not like that.”
“Get in the car.” Mr. Hardy was making a beeline for the driver’s seat. “It’s too cold to broker deals I have no authority to make. We’ll need another payment next weekend. Try to make a bigger dent next time.”
A bigger dent?
Anger made Mary Margaret scowl at them until they drove off.
Anger slammed the door.
But it wasn’t anger that left her legs shaking so bad that she slid to the floor.
* * *
“Barb, we need to talk.”
Barb took Tad’s backpack from Kevin late Saturday afternoon and stood blocking the doorway to the house that used to be theirs. “For the love of Mike, Kevin.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Tad was turning on the television. She moved to the porch and closed the door behind her. “If you want a booty call, phone someone who won’t sell you out if things go south.”
“What are you talking about?” Kevin took a step back. Did she know he’d been to the Hanky Panky?
“Sandy told me you were making moves on Tad’s teacher at the Christmas tree farm.” She rolled her eyes. “If that goes south, you’ll turn half the school staff against you, not to mention the school board and all those parents in Tad’s class. If you’ve got an itch, I’m right here.” She ran her hands from shoulder to waist.
She was offering…
Annoyed, Kevin took another step back. “That’s not an option.” It hadn’t been since he’d found out about her cheating last spring.
“Why are you dead set on ruining the career we built together?” Barb clenched her fists between them like a fighter. “And don’t deny we were a team.”
She
made their marriage sound like a business deal and continued to present her case. “We used to stay up all night talking about how we’d transform things for the better here in town, at the state level, and in the White House. None of that has to end.”
“Yes, it does. We need a change here in Sunshine, and we need a change between us.” Kevin rubbed a hand against his pounding temple. “You know, since our marriage broke up, I’ve been in this fog, blindly putting one foot after another, heading in a direction people I respect told me was right. But I guess my heart was bruised from those broken vows. And now”—because of Mary Margaret, and maybe even Roxy—“I know what I believe in. And beliefs are worth defending, even if someone you used to love and respect disagrees with you.”
Barb’s features were colder than the wind whipping down from Saddle Horn Mountain.
“You’re not going to change my mind about the distribution center,” Kevin said firmly. “And we’re not going to be exes with benefits. We’re going to co-parent Tad on friendly terms, and…” He knew in his gut now wasn’t the time to broach the subject of Barb’s fat-shaming their child but…
“And?” she prompted, cold as ice.
He had to say something. “And I’d appreciate it if you stopped watching out for me. There’s someone inside—our son—who is much more deserving of your attention.” And with that, Kevin turned and walked away.
“You’ll regret this,” Barb said in a frigid voice.
He paused at the end of the walk, thinking about Mary Margaret’s observation that Barb would be protective of him until he asserted his independence.
“I’m sorry, Barb.” He faced his beautiful ex-wife, lamenting the fact that her beauty now only seemed skin deep. Tad needed his mother to have a big heart. “But it’s you who’ll have regrets if you keep on trying to run this town—and me—from the beauty parlor.”
Kevin drove to Mary Margaret’s house and knocked on her door.
When she opened up, her mouth fell open. “What are you—”
Kevin pounded the Christmas tree trunk on her porch. “It’s pretty, isn’t it? Nice shape. Manageable size. Tad and I picked it out for you.” And his parents had been incredibly interested that they’d done so.
“You shouldn’t have.”
“Are you kidding me?” She looked so demoralized that he nearly dropped the tree and gave her a hug. “Regardless of how you feel about the season, you deserve a happy holiday.” And he was determined to give her one.
She opened the door wider. “You better come inside before someone sees you.”
Not, Thank you, Kevin. You’re so sweet.
“You don’t even need a Christmas tree stand. I had the tree farm nail one on.” He carried the four-foot Douglas Fir inside. “With so little time until Christmas, you’ll be fine as long as you don’t put it near your fireplace.” He glanced around the small living space and set it down in front of the narrow slider. “Good thing you don’t have a fireplace.”
“You really didn’t have to do this,” she said. But there was a crack in her defenses; he could feel it in the way she ran her fingers over the needles on one branch. “Thank you. It smells so good.”
“I see someone dropped off a bit of mistletoe.” He nodded toward a wilted bag on her counter.
“Don’t get any ideas, friend.”
He had ideas. And they had nothing to do with being her friend. “It’s a shame to let mistletoe go to waste. Find me a push pin, and I’ll hang it in the foyer.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s not happening.”
“You’ve got some boxes in here.” He bent to open one. “Are these your ornaments?”
“No!” She closed the flaps. “Those are personal things.”
He was sorry he’d moved so slowly. Any quicker and he’d have seen what she wanted to hide. “Okay, then. I guess that’s my cue to leave. But I want an invitation back to see your tree decorated.” Although he’d settle for a photo via text. “I know there’s holiday cheer inside you. After all, you enjoyed our snowball fight and the hot chocolate.”
She made a noncommittal noise and showed him the door.
He hesitated on her porch. “I need to tell you something.” His stupid slip-of-the-tongue with the political party.
“Kevin.” Mary Margaret stared at him with what he’d swear was longing in her eyes. “Thank you for the tree and…and your friendship.”
“Friendship is a solid basis for a relationship.” That was both boring and lame.
“I’m closing the door on you now.” True to her word, she shut him out.
Chapter Twelve
Mary Margaret had signed up for a shift in the Widows Club wrapping booth back when she’d thought it was a good excuse to get out and socialize during this difficult holiday season.
She’d had no idea how badly she’d end up wanting to be a hermit. She’d put lights on the tree Kevin had brought her and strands of tinsel, but that only made her think of Derek and burlesque costumes—the latter of which Kevin had nearly found when he’d started to open the box in her living room.
The tree made her long for some of her family traditions, like baking, planning gatherings, and giving donations to various food banks and toy drives. And it made her think about Kevin and how much she’d wanted a kiss during the snowball fight.
A table was set up in the lobby of the town’s small mall, a historic brick building on the town square that was filled with quirky shops. Plastic tubs underneath the table held bins of wrapping supplies. There was a large, beautifully decorated tree nearby. Christmas music was piped in from somewhere. Mary Margaret recognized The Chipmunks.
Classic.
She hurried inside for her two-hour wrapping shift, after which she’d drive to the Hanky Panky, where she was scheduled to dance sometime after ten.
“The temperature’s dropping outside,” Mary Margaret told the two ladies she relieved. Both wore holiday sweaters with flashing lights. “Bundle up.”
As soon as the widows left, a huge line for wrapping formed. Mary Margaret tried to wrap as fast as she could, wondering who’d skipped out on the shift by her side.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” said a masculine voice.
Mary Margaret looked up from the careful folds she was making in sparkly Rudolph wrapping paper and froze. There was Kevin. “You signed up to wrap?”
“No. My Great Aunt Sophie volunteered.” She was a Widows Club member. “She came down with a stomach bug, and my mother insisted I take her place.” He removed his coat and set it aside, surveying the lobby. “You have a line.”
“I know.” Mary Margaret tried to wrap faster while sparing him a glance. “You can take the next customer.”
“Actually…” He leaned in to whisper. “I’m not much of a wrapper.”
“You better learn really quickly before we lose customers.” She edged away from him and reassured the line. “We’ll be right with all of you. Remember that all proceeds benefit the local food bank.” That ought to buy their patience.
As would Kevin’s sigh-worthy smile, which he bestowed on the ladies in line. He held up glitter-trimmed handmade tags with string ties. “If you could, just personalize a gift tag while you wait. I challenge you to be clever. My mother always gives a clue about what’s inside.” He gestured toward Wendy Adams, who was holding a red sweater. “Might I suggest something like, Bright and cheerful winter snuggles?”
Mary Margaret snorted. “My grandmother does that so she remembers what’s inside.” But it seldom worked. Last year, Grandma Edith had unwrapped two of Mary Margaret’s gifts because the not-remembering had killed her. Mary Margaret plastered the ends of the box she was wrapping with tape. No one was peeking at that present. “Can you fluff a bow for me, Mr. Mayor?”
Mr. Ninja Claus, bringer of trees and holiday cheer.
Her gaze drifted his way, and she released a kiss-induced sigh.
This kind of thinking isn’t helpful.
Kevin had
n’t moved.
She had to assume he didn’t know what she’d asked him to do. “Do you know how to fluff a bow?” She spared a moment to hand him the spool of curling ribbon and a pair of scissors. “Curl ribbon with the scissors.”
Kevin blinked the way Tad did when he wasn’t sure what crayon he wanted to use to color.
“I’ll do it.” Louise’s mom, Kathy, stepped out of line to volunteer. “At the rate you’re going, we’ll be here until Christmas.”
“Surely it isn’t that bad.” Kevin returned to the here and now, no longer a male deer in mostly female headlights. “Look how our tight-knit community chips in to work toward a common goal—full pantries and pretty presents.”
“Is it okay to groan?” Mary Margaret handed Kathy the wrapped package of socks.
“I’m groaning,” Kathy said, curling a long length of green ribbon. “You aren’t going to approve that distribution center, are you, Kevin?”
“I have a very special announcement to make regarding the distribution center.” Kevin hung on to his smile while Mary Margaret searched for a box that was the right size to wrap a pair of leather driving gloves. “JPM Industries is donating to several causes in town. We’re finally going to upgrade the high school stadium snack bar. And make that war memorial bench at the cemetery a reality. And—”
“This sounds like a plan to buy your vote.” Kathy refused to be appeased.
“Or it could be them establishing a place in our community.” Kevin handed her a filled-out gift tag to go with the bow she was making, sprinkling glitter on the table in the process.
“I’m a bit excited about the distribution center opening.” Mary Margaret swathed the gloves in white tissue paper and laid them in the thin cardboard box. “I’m hoping more families will move to Sunshine. There will be more kids in school. And more kids in school means we can maintain school property without raising taxes.”
A Very Merry Match--Includes a Bonus Novella Page 17
