BETTER WATCH OUT

by Christina Freeburn

  The kitchen pantry unit had been converted into supply storage. Wine racks had been installed in the shelves to hold my rolls of vinyl, and the bottom shelf was left alone to stack cutting mats and other items I preferred to store flat. While my original plan had been selling and buying a new one, knowing how much thought and love my children put into making it perfect for me, this RV was growing on me.

  “I looked at your setup in Raleigh’s old room and used that as the blueprint for your studio area. I moved in some of your supplies.”

  “It’s absolutely perfect.” I hugged Scotland.

  “What’s wrong?” He pulled back, keeping his hands on my shoulders.

  I wanted to say nothing, but after being a hostage of Samuel’s murderer, I knew my son would think that was affecting me. It was better to tell the truth. “Jenna Wilcox is erecting a giant naughty list on her float and listed town members names and their naughty deeds on it.”

  “Are you serious?” Scotland was fighting back a smile.

  “People are going to be hurt. She’s using the parade to bully.”

  “She’ll feel the consequences for her actions during the next election,” Paul said.

  “Mayor Vine brought that up to her. She’s planning to move.”

  Scotland hugged me. “I know the parade is important to you, Mom. But you can’t let Jenna get to you. I have the perfect thing to pick up your spirits. A present. It’s in my car.” Scotland ran out the door, leaving me and Paul alone.

  I smiled. “Thanks, Paul. I appreciate you helping the kids fix it up for me.”

  He smiled back. “I know you plan to sell it, and the renovations will make it easier. Might be able to find someone at a craft event who’d be happy to take it off your hands. And please don’t worry about Jenna.”

  “It’s hard not to. I don’t want her ruining the parade with ugliness.”

  “Then we’ll just have to think of something to lessen it.” Paul snapped his fingers. “We’ll create a nice list and add the same names on it and beside them write forgiven. I’ll tie it on the grill of the firetruck. We can come after Jenna’s float. I’ll get ahold of Norman, our town Santa Claus, and have him make an announcement that Santa decided to ditch the naughty list this year and there will be presents for all. It’ll seem like it was planned.”

  “Like the names on the list were of people who agreed to be on it.” I grinned. “I like it.”

  “I’m on it. Anytime you need help, I’m here for you.” He pulled out his cell.

  “I know.” I walked out of the RV and watched my son wiggle out a huge box from the trunk of his car. “What did you guys buy me?”

  “It’s from Dad. He wouldn’t tell me what it is, just that you might need help with it.”

  What did Brett get me that I might need help with? My first ex-husband, the father of my two amazing children, was a complicated man. Actually, our relationship right now was complicated as it was no longer at the easy friends-who-are-co-parenting stage. Our children were grown and living their own lives, and Brett let me know a few weeks ago he was interested in us rekindling our long flamed-out romance.

  I wasn’t sure why he thought all these years later we’d make a better couple. Parenting together had been our strong suit. It was other components of marriage where we clashed. Some people just didn’t make good romantic partners. Friends, yes. Spouses, no.

  Scotland placed a large box wrapped in birthday wrapping paper on the lawn. Brett and I gave each other token gifts for birthdays and holidays. Nothing extravagant and the size of the box said this was extravagant.

  I walked around the box, eyeing it like one does a box left on the porch on April first. I didn’t trust it.

  “Is something wrong?” Paul studied me, a frown deepening on his face.

  It was the hurt look on Scotland’s face that galvanized me into action. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t trust his father. Heck, I did. I just wasn’t comfortable with expensive gifts from Brett, knowing his feelings toward me.

  I ripped off a strip of paper from the top of the box. The word inflatable was revealed. Even though Brett wasn’t a big Christmas person, he gifted me something he knew spoke of my love for the season. I finished tearing off the papers. The bright red and green box contained an eight-foot inflatable hamster wearing a scarf and a Santa hat. A Christmas Ebenezer.

  I hugged the box. “I love it.”

  “You have a good spot for it.” Scotland pointed to the section of my yard that was without a Christmas decoration. The blank canvas of my yard was in the corner, almost tucked into the side yard. I hadn’t wanted the good viewing spots in front of the house empty. There was no way I was putting Hammy in the corner.

  “Hammy deserves a spot right in the front.” I untied the ropes for the eight-foot snowman.

  “You’ve named it Hammy.”

  “I’ve named them all.” I patted the deflated snowman. “This is Melty.”

  Without a word, Scotland and Paul helped me rearrange the inflatables. I couldn’t wait to turn on the decorations tonight. It was going to be fabulous.

  Scotland rested an arm around my shoulders and gave me a quick squeeze. “I feel bad that neither I nor Raleigh will be at the parade tomorrow. I didn’t know the department was switching me to nights so soon.”

  “I understand.” I smiled brightly, doing everything to hide my disappointment.

  I knew the day was coming when traditions would change as my children’s adult lives and schedules needed to take precedence over the ways of the past. The Season’s Greetings Christmas Parade had been our big holiday event.

  “I’ll keep your mom company,” Paul said.

  “I hate to run off, Mom, but I have to head back to Mo-town. I have to work tonight. I wanted to see you before the parade and wish you luck. I know you’ve worked hard on it.”

  I squeezed him tight. “I’m happy to see you for any amount of time.”

  A few minutes later, I waved goodbye to my son and Paul. Paul had invited me out to dinner and I declined. I had a ton of work to do, besides, I wasn’t in a place where I wanted to encourage more than a friendship with anyone.

  I unlocked the front door. From his habitat, Ebenezer peered at me from under a pile of blankets, looking so sweet and friendly. The large habitat in the living room was created to give Ebenezer more roaming room in the house when I wasn’t home. I didn’t want him to have unsupervised free reign because there was a potential for him to get into something harmful. You’d never know he was an escape artist with an obsession for Christmas tree lights. It was because of him I had a baby gate around the Christmas tree. The critter just couldn’t leave the lights on the bottom alone and having a pre-lit tree meant I couldn’t move the row up.

  “Don’t you play innocent with me. I know you can get out of there. What trouble did you get into today?” None! He was still in his guinea pig home. I scooped Ebenezer out of the cage setup and danced around the room. “You stayed in your house.”

  Ebenezer whistled and cuddled into my cheek. This morning I removed his jogging ramps out of his habitat. The little guy must’ve been using them to launch himself out of the caged area. Now, I knew why he loved them.

  I put him on the ground. “I thought you’d be a breeze to take care of. You’re almost as diabolical as a toddler.”

  Ebenezer beelined to the tree and tried to wiggle his plump body through one of the small holes. Yep, just like a toddler.

  My phone pinged. I glanced at the screen. Bright. My business partner.

  Deadlines going okay?

  Yep, I fibbed. Bright had completed more than her fair share of the crafting projects over the last few weeks. There was no way I’d dump more onto her because of the Christmas parade. I’ll be caught up today. Mail out tomorrow.

  Don’t keep yourself too busy. Remember to enjoy the holiday.
Or try and avoid everything that has happened.

  My finger froze over the virtual keyboard. Avoid everything that had happened. Bright knew me better than anyone else, even my children. Taking on the Christmas parade, and not putting our Etsy business “on vacation,” kept me at an over-extended level, giving me no time to reflect or feel. The only emotion I was allowing myself to indulge in was anger. At Samuel. For what his schemes had cost me and left me to deal with. And most of all because his mistakes led to his death and leaving his daughter Cassie alone.

  My simple life was now complicated. The biggest drama in my mundane world had been trying to recreate my life after my children had moved out and I was no longer primarily mom. Now, I felt like I was in a snow globe. Every time the world settled, it got shook up and all the pieces swirled around and all I could do was remain frozen until everything settled back down.

  The only way to rid myself of the melancholy wrapping around me was to work. I knew the perfect project to complete orders and figure out the float line-up. One of my customers ordered three glass blocks with a Christmas scene. I’d cut out a vinyl decal to represent each of the floats like a sleigh for Santa’s sleigh: Christmas trees for the florist, gingerbread man for the bakery, nativity scene for Harmony Baptist, and a giant bold “X” for Jenna. I’d take some photos (minus the X block) and let the customer pick the ones she wanted.

  I lined the glass blocks in front of my fire place, placing Santa’s sleigh at the end of the line and adjusted the fairy lights I had tucked inside. I plugged the nativity block into Santa then plugged Santa into an extension cord.

  The blocks glowed, the soft orange-yellow light twinkled around the images. It was beautiful. I sat cross-legged on the floor and gazed at the décor. Everything was perfect. Except for the giant “X” representing Jenna. I should’ve pushed my irritation aside and made something more Christmassy for her. It would be easy to take off the vinyl and use the block but there was something so jarring and un-Christmas about the bold, giant “X.” I had even made two marching bands, chorus of dancing women, and Boy and Girl Scout blocks. More thought should’ve gone into the representation of Jenna’s float. I guess even I had my Scrooge moments.

  Ebenezer crawled into my lap. I rubbed his furry head, shifting the strands of his multi-colored fur, still debating if Ebenezer had more white or brown fur. There were shots of red throughout. Guinea pig highlights. “What do you think?”

  As if wanting to answer me, Ebenezer left my lap and waddle-walked over to the gingerbread block. He sniffed it carefully and in one quick movement, bit the cord.

  I picked Ebenezer up and turned him to face me. “It’s not for eating.”

  He wiggled his nose at me. I wasn’t sure if that was guinea pig for “I won’t do it again” or “I don’t care.”

  The doorbell rang.

  I deposited Ebenezer into his room and removed the ramps. I didn’t trust Ebenezer not to launch himself out the moment I opened the door and go gnaw on the cords.

  He squealed and whistled at me.

  “You’ll be fine for a couple of minutes. Stop all that fussing.” I answered the door.

  Rachel was standing on my porch, holding takeout from the family-owned Italian restaurant in town. They had the best breadsticks and chicken parmigiana. My mouth started to water even before the garlic and tomato aroma reached me.

  “Saw you called the store. Since I was picking up dinner tonight, figured I’d swing by and share. I’m not much into leftovers and you know the entrees have enough food to feed a family of four. How did it go with Jenna?”

  “Not good. She’s going forward with the naughty list and has quite a few names on it.”

  “Who else?” Rachel carried the food to the dining room table.

  “You’re on it. Norman. Pastor Heath. The mayor had been on it, but he worked out a deal to get his name off and allow Jenna to trash others with her stupid sign.”

  “It’s just names.”

  “She has a column that lists the naughty deeds.”

  Rachel spun toward me, one of the containers she was pulling from the bag slipping from her shaking hands. “She what?”

  I grabbed the container before it hit the ground and we lost the chicken parmigiana. “Listing the reason someone’s on the naughty list. She has her husband on it and by his name is drunkard. She hadn’t finished listing the transgressions on the sign.”

  “Let’s forget about all that. We haven’t had a girl’s night since…” Rachel trailed off, gaze drifting to the floor.

  Since Samuel was murdered. It wasn’t a conscious decision by either of us. The holiday season filled both of our schedules to the max, especially with us basically being one-woman operations.

  “You’re right.” I sat down. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

  “I love your new decorations.” She nodded toward the living room.

  “I made the blocks to represent the floats. Trying to finalize the line-up. I decided to have everyone arrive at different times.” As I retrieved plates from the kitchen, I explained my plan of having the floats arrive in pairs an hour before the parade in ten-minute increments.

  “That sounds good. Last year it was a huge cluster with—” She stopped again.

  I heaved out a sigh. “You can say his name, Rachel. I’m not going to collapse into a puddle of tears.”

  A smile twitched at her lips. “I’m more worried about you screaming and throwing stuff.”

  I waved my arm around. “I don’t ruin Christmas.” Almost everything in my house was something Christmas or family related. It was the basic theme of my decorating, during the holiday and not.

  “That’s true. There is no way you’d do anything to hurt Christmas.” Rachel divided the salad into two bowls, both were overflowing with lettuce, cheese, tomatoes, and olives.

  “What are your plans for the holidays?”

  The holidays were a bittersweet time of the year for Rachel. She loved the Christmas season, the activities, the cold in the air, the spirit of togetherness and love that seemed to wrap everything. It was also a time that reminded her she was still alone. She got along with her family, but everyone lived far away from each other and were wrapped up in their lives. Her parents spent the holidays traveling from one brother’s house to the other to visit their grandchildren. Rachel didn’t feel comfortable leaving her business for a long time, especially around the holiday buying season.

  A slight smile developed, and she picked up a napkin to hide it. “Nothing. This year I’m looking forward to a quiet Christmas at home. I plan to binge watch my favorite holiday movies and dinner will be frozen appetizers.”

  “Who is he?”

  Her eyes widened. “He who?”

  “The man that’s making you smile.”

  “I don’t have a man.” She tore off a piece of bread and broke it into smaller pieces. The bread littered her plate.

  “You can trust me.” I grinned at her. “I won’t tell anyone. Where did you meet him? How long have you guys been seeing each other? Is it the mayor’s security guard? That guy is hot.”

  “There isn’t a he.” Anger and hurt sparked in her eyes.

  I cut off a large chunk of chicken parmigiana and shoved it in my mouth, wanting something other than my foot in it. I had assumed Rachel was seeing someone, instead she had grown comfortable with her single status, a status she’d been trying to change for the last ten years, and I was ruining it for her.

  We ate in a silence. Rachel occasionally fiddled with her cell phone. The quiet filling my house was not a pleasant one. Why had I teased Rachel about having a man? I knew it was a sore subject. She had wanted to be married. Instead, her last few relationships had been hook-ups that she thought were relationships with potential.

  She had taken the initiative and brought dinner to me since neither of us were making time fo
r our friendship, and I put a damper on the evening by telling her she couldn’t be happy without a guy. I, of all people, should know a man didn’t equal happiness. I had two failed marriages. I was living alone and happy.

  The tension between me and my friend was my fault. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I shouldn’t think a woman looks so happy because a man is in her life.”

  A phone binged. A text. I checked mine. No messages. Rachel tugged hers out and frowned. The lights coming from the lawn decorations highlighted her face.

  I placed my hand on her arms. “Are you okay?” I tried to sneak a peek at her phone.

  She shoved it back in her pocket. “Yes. I’m sorry, I have to leave. Might be an issue at the store.” She hurried back into the house and grabbed her coat and purse.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not anything I need help with. I’ll see you tomorrow for the final review before the parade.” She hurried to her car.

  Sadness welled up in me. I had this strong feeling Rachel had someone text her as an excuse to bail.

  Four

  The next morning with my spirits not so merry, I pulled into a parking space at the end of Main Avenue, the beginning of the Christmas parade, to start my final walk through. I owed Rachel an apology and hoped she’d accept it. I got out and fed the meter. Christmas music floated in the air. Where was it coming from?

  Confused, I looked around and then glanced up. Attached to the light poles were speakers. This must’ve been one of the holiday improvements Mayor Vine was ecstatic over and the rest of the city council was a little peeved about. The mayor’s choice of what constituted a necessary budget item was concerning to all of people in Season’s Greetings. I usually leaned toward the side of what-was-he-thinking but I liked the addition of the Christmas music. Added to the atmosphere of our town being a Christmas destination. I’d find a way to tap a little bit into the lottery winnings and make an anonymous donation toward the speakers.

  Everything was perfectly Christmas. The businesses had beautiful and tasteful decorations, ranging from contemporary to whimsical. The shops that were community stops had their small placards hung, designating them as either information, food, quiet, or if they had facilities available.