Chapter 14
K reston
“If you check your fish’s temperature one more time,” warned Jessie. “I’m going to let Ten Second Tess reorganize your clothes closet.”
Kreston pulled back from the Crooked Spoon’s kitchen grill, holding a long spatula. He aimed not to look as nervous as he felt. The Arctic char—Sadie’s triumphant catch—deserved perfection.
“I just want to make sure it’s cooked,” he defended.
“Like how you control everything else in your life?” Jessie effortlessly managed three pasta pots while assembling holiday-themed salads. “Except it’s not working out so well lately, is it? Not since a certain redheaded beauty blew into town.”
Kreston had gotten used to Jessie’s constant pounding of the Sadie drum, but he disliked being pushed into anything. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled.
Lucky appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Why is your face red? Cooking fish too much for you?”
“Look how golden brown this is. Mm, it’s a masterpiece.” Kreston sampled a morsel.
“Can’t wait to hear you sing. Only time I’ve heard you belt out a tune was during Polar Creek’s Colony Days when you were sloshed, and no one understood a word. All right, buddy, the karaoke machine is ready to go. This’ll be interesting.” Lucky popped out again.
Kreston peeked out at the dining area to note the Crooked Spoon filling up like a TV game day when everyone gathered to watch the Seattle Seahawks. When Jessie and Aloha announced there would be fancy desserts at the holiday party, a cheer went up throughout the restaurant.
“This char won’t be enough to feed everyone. Are you sure we have enough salmon?” Kreston twirled his spatula, his stomach curdling at the thought of singing. Though he’d performed in an a cappella group in college, he’d given up singing along with everything else when his life fell apart back East.
Sadie still hadn’t told him what song she’d chosen. He feared croaking out the lyrics like a frog with laryngitis at an open mic night in Lilypad Marsh.
Jessie surveyed the crowd with hands on her hips. “Yep, we have plenty of fish. Hardware Bob and the Gossip Trio donated frozen salmon fillets just to make sure.”
Kreston let out a sigh of relief. “Good. I didn’t want a riot on my hands.” He nodded toward the karaoke machine. “I suspect it’s not only the fish drawing the entire town here. They just want to see me make a fool of myself.”
Jessie laughed outright. “Poor baby. Cry me a river. Now get out there and help Sadie serve the masses. That was part of the bet, remember?” She returned to her job plating food.
“Right.” Kreston found the large round tray and loaded five plates of food onto it.
Jessie brandished a long three-pronged fork. “Drop that food and there will be hell to pay.”
Sadie appeared to collect more plates and grinned at Kreston. “Those people are chomping at the bit to hear their illustrious mayor serenade their dinner. Mm, this smells delicious. Good job on my fish.” Sadie leaned across Kreston to snatch a plastic bottle of tartar sauce, and he caught a whiff of her expensive cologne.
Jessie sidled up to Sadie. “Did you know Kreston sang in a Harvard a cappella group?” she said out the side of her mouth.
“He what?” Sadie stopped, her jaw dropping.
“That was a long time ago.” Kreston dismissed it with an eyeroll.
Lucky popped back into the kitchen. “Yeah, they wore matching blazers and everything.”
“Just a few semesters, for charity fund-raisers.” Kreston muttered, plating more fish. Plastering on a smile, he ducked out to avoid further disclosures from Jessie.
Lucky gave them both a hand, serving the fish. When everyone had their food, Sadie, Kreston, and Lucky sped between tables, supplying water and other beverages.
Sadie moved up to Kreston and handed him her moose antler hat. “You’re on, buddy. Get up there and strut your stuff!” From the way her eyes glinted, she was obviously relishing this, making him even more edgy. He plopped the hat on his head with as much dignity as he could muster.
The Gossip Trio waved at him from their table, like three groupies. All three had hit on him at one time or another. He’d been careful about keeping his distance, yet maintaining good mayoral relations. The Trio turned out to be an informative group, helping him to keep his finger on the town’s pulse .
“What are you going to sing, Mayor Collins?” Tall Martha clapped her hands, her enthusiasm in obvious overdrive.
When Sadie’s song choice appeared on the karaoke screen, Kreston gulped as panic seized his throat, choking him. He narrowed his eyes and shot a fighting glance at her as she leaned against the wall with folded arms, a smirk playing across her face.
He shook his head with dread, as if he’d been asked to preside at his own funeral.
“That bad, huh?” Mini-Martha hollered, sending a titter of anticipation over the room.
Henrietta adjusted her glasses with a toothy grin. “Come on, Bing Crosby, croon your little heart out. Give us a ‘White Christmas.’ As if we don’t have one.” She motioned at the windows, and everyone laughed.
Kreston’s chin dropped to his chest, and he squeezed his eyes closed. “All right, let’s get this over with,” he muttered under his breath, dragging a stool from the bar and perching himself on it.
He dipped a reluctant nod at Lucky, who stood ready to operate the karaoke machine.
The opening notes of Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman” filled the restaurant.
Every woman in the place burst out laughing, and while they clapped and cheered, Kreston’s chest detonated with full-fledged terror. He darted another horrified look at Sadie, who was busy cracking up.
Kreston’s first few halting notes were barely audible, but what happened next would become the stuff of Polar Creek legend. If he was going to do this, he might as well go all in with gusto and pour his heart and soul into it.
What the heck.
He summoned his inner holiday spirit, and his rich baritone transformed the song into something no one expected...least of all himself.
The shock on every face was priceless. The men sat stunned, while the women beamed as Kreston’s voice echoed from the speakers, singing it like his own personal anthem.
The women clapped along and pumped their fists, shouting, “Oh yeah!”
Kreston noted Lucky’s amused expression and Tucker shaking his head with a hand clasped over his mouth.
Aloha rushed up and joined in the singing. The Gossip Trio joined them, and soon a female chorus of “I Am Woman” drowned out Kreston’s voice. He didn’t mind—in fact, he was relieved and gladly stepped back to let the women take the spotlight. Even Ten Second Tess got into the spirit, though she couldn’t quite keep up with the lyrics. Within moments, every woman in the restaurant was singing.
Kreston caught Sadie’s eye as she clapped and sang along, her jubilant expression warming him. When the song ended, he motioned to the group who’d joined him. “Give these ladies a hand!”
The standing ovation was deafening. He thought he’d go up in flames as a man singing a woman’s anthem. Instead, it had the opposite effect, especially when Henrietta yelled, “Mayor Collins, will you marry me?”
“Thanks, everyone. That was fun.” Heat crawled up his neck as his wide smile captured the attention of every woman in the room. “Now, please finish eating. We have a holiday party to attend. With real musicians, I promise.”
“Bravo! Bravo! Oh my, you were spectacular!” Tall Martha fanned herself. “Mayor Collins, please record an album so I can fall asleep to your singing and dream about you.”
He figured she was teasing, but maybe not.
“Who knew?” Mini-Martha sighed, looking at Kreston like she was a groupie who came to every show.
Their remarks made him squirm, but he let them slide off. He knew their comments were all in good fun. Mostly.
Tucker imparted his existential philosophy. “Such is the duality of man, expressed through Helen Reddy.”
As everyone paid their bill and straggled out of the restaurant, Sadie swaggered up to him. “Saved by your groupies,” she teased. “They wound up doing the heavy lifting.”
“Nuh-uh,” he countered. “I sang the first few verses alone.”
“And not too bad, actually.” She gave him an assessing look. “You should sing more often.”
“As you can see, I’m in touch with my feminine side,” he joked.
“You’re a good sport, Mayor Collins.” Sadie’s approval skittered his brain off somewhere.
“Let’s clear these tables and help Jessie clean up.” Kreston summoned Aloha and Ten Second Tess to help.
They set to work cleaning the tables and loading the oversized dishwasher. When things were situated, everyone scattered to get ready for tonight’s holiday party. Kreston was glad he’d had the foresight to bring in his dress duds earlier. He was grateful to Lucky for volunteering to drive out and feed his sled dogs. One less thing Kreston had to worry about today, with his combined responsibilities.
Not only that, he was anxious about his date tonight. The word ‘date’ sounded so official.
Kreston casually excused himself and hurried out of the Crooked Spoon, with Sadie on his heels. “Be up in a few,” he tossed at her as he rushed across the lobby toward his office to get changed.
“Okay, later,” she replied, dashing up the stairs.
Kreston closed the door to his office and put on the tuxedo he’d dragged to Alaska from Manhattan years ago. “You never know when you’ll need to dress up in the Alaskan wilderness,” he’d joked to Lucky back then.
The shirt still fit, but the silky pants were tight, along with his suit jacket. He’d gained bulk from chopping wood and all the other physical activities that came with his Polar Creek lifestyle. The tux felt both foreign and familiar as he shrugged it on.
Peeking into a mirror in his one-horse bathroom with just a toilet and a sink, he smoothed back his hair and ran a shaver around his face. Studying his reflection, he noticed he’d aged since coming here. But in a good way. Not the old stress lines that used to crease his face when he worked in finance. He liked this new version of himself: the laugh lines around his eyes, the snow boots next to his desk, and the many hats he wore. He took pride in how he’d made a difference in this town.
A familiar tap-tap sounded on the door as he fiddled with his bow tie for the hundredth time.
Kreston swung open the door to find Jessie, who stepped back with a long, descending whistle. “Well, look at you, all gussied up like a man about town!” She grinned. “If I were twenty years younger, I’d make a play for you. Every woman in Polar Creek will eye you tonight like a fine cut of prime beef—just like they do at those Talkeetna bachelor auctions. Nice tux, by the way.”
“Oh, this old thing?” he teased with a nervous laugh. “Thanks, nice of you to say.”
She leaned against the doorframe with folded arms. “Haven’t seen you this nervous since you told Ten Second Tess liquid soap didn’t go in the coffeemaker.”
“I’m not nervous,” he insisted, fiddling unsuccessfully with his tie.
“I beg to differ.” Jessie stepped in and moved his hands away to take over the tie operation, then she pointed at his feet. “You’re wearing two different colored socks.”
He glanced down and raised a pant leg. “Damn it.”
“No one’ll notice. Just giving you a hard time. Here.” She straightened his tie with motherly precision. “The way Sadie helped Tess yesterday, then pitched in to help you serve fish tonight, even though she won the bet...not something to ignore.”
He bobbed his head up and down impatiently. “I know, Jessie...”
“I don’t think you do. All I’m saying is, Sadie is special. Don’t let your fear and stubbornness stand in the way.” She brushed away imaginary lint from his shoulders. “Remember that tonight when you dance with her. And try to relax and enjoy it. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and I hope you have a present for her.”
“Yes, Mom. Any other pearls of wisdom for my first date?” He gave her his best teenage eyeroll, channeling every sixteen-year-old prepping for a prom.
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Jessie planted her hands on her hips, switching into lecture mode. “A woman gives you a sign. You know, like when she wants to be kissed.”
He groaned inwardly. Dear God, we’re actually having this conversation.
“Enlighten me,” he managed, his voice cracking traitorously.
“When Sadie does the lean-in with an I-want-to-make-out-with-you face, that’s your cue. I know it’s been a while—”
“Only a minute or two,” he cut in, tapping his chin with mock solemnity. “Surprisingly, I still remember the basics of human mating rituals.”
“Alrighty then, you’re good to go. Have fun, Mayor Collins.” She gave him a knowing wink and popped out of his office.
Kreston watched his good friend disappear down the hallway, appreciating Jessie’s good intentions and how she always had his back. No, he didn’t have a present for Sadie. He’d worry about that later. First, he had a date to focus on with this beautiful woman who’d captured his heart.
On his way upstairs to Sadie’s room, Kreston glanced both ways before plucking a silk poinsettia from the lobby’s holiday decorations. Real flowers were scarce around these parts at this time of year. This would have to do.
His flower tremored in his hand as he climbed the stairs, and his heart pounded as he approached Sadie’s door. He’d weathered stock market crashes, faced bear encounters, dicey flight conditions, and angry townspeople, but this date terrified him more than he cared to admit—it threatened to do him in.
He stood for a moment outside Sadie’s door to collect himself. He squared his shoulders, recalling what he’d learned back in business school: the scariest risks were the ones that paid off in the end. He hoped it was also true in relationships.
Kreston crossed his fingers, took a deep breath, and raised his hand to knock.