Chapter 6
Six
Hadley
The bazaar is alive and in full swing when we enter through the side entrance of the community center parking lot.
Multicolored lights have been strung along the chain-link fence where freshly cut trees are propped up ready to be loaded up.
Maybe I’ll buy one if there are any left by the time I leave.
My heart squeezes in my chest. This is my first Christmas without my Meemaw. Her and George are going on some cruise to the Bahamas or something. The man spoils her, and I love that for her, but I miss her.
One set of the lights flashes before dying out.
The remaining line casts creepy shadows over the trees, giving the branches a gnarly look.
Reminding me of a dark fairytale where a young maiden gets lured into the woods only to be taken by a beast. Or maybe it’s the strange effect of Mistletoe Pines. This town is as spooky as spooky gets.
I swap my boots for the elf booties, and Syd promises to keep them for me under the table at the face painting booth.
We meander through the entrance. Food trucks and vendors line each side of the street.
Sydney drags me to a table set up at the volunteer fire station for some cider.
I don’t really care for the stuff, but they are raising funds for a new truck.
And Sydney happens to have a crush on one of them.
I don’t know how she can tell Jake apart from the rest of the crew, but she spots him easily enough.
There’s a line of them wearing matching attire, their signature navy blue long-sleeved tees and khaki carpenter pants along with fake beards and red hats trimmed in white fur.
My bestie makes gaga eyes at her crush while I glance around the crowd looking for Nick. I spot him easily enough at the booth where his sister is collecting toys for the annual toy drive. Sydney elbows me in the ribs. “I see him.”
“I do too,” I snap.
“Man, you’re wound up tight,” she grumbles.
“I’m nervous, and I feel ridiculous. Everyone is staring at me.”
“You’re being paranoid,” she tells me as I burn the tip of my tongue on the yucky cider. “Okay, maybe a little, but that’s only because they are so used to seeing you look so frumpy.”
“I’m not frumpy.” I toss my drink into a nearby trash can, vowing to get a hot chocolate instead.
Sydney laughs. “Aren’t you going to say hello?” She rummages in that enormous bag of hers and pulls out a stuffed bear. “Go make a donation.” She grins like a kid who just had their first taste of something sweet. “Go.” She shoves me forward before disappearing with Jake and my boots.
I start toward the donation table, but my nerves get the best of me. I turn back the way we came, debating on going home. Instead, I get in line for a funnel cake and frosted sugar cookies, turning back to old habits. Using food to cope with my anxiety.
I catch a glimpse of myself in a store window. It’s like looking at a stranger. In my mind, it’s easy to forget that I’ve dropped so much weight. This dress. Using my body. It’s not me.
“Hey you.”
I spin around, seeing Tony Copley. He was friends with Scotty back when everything happened. He’s one of the few who believes me when I say I don’t know what happened to him.
“Hey Tony. How have you been? Did Chandra have the baby yet?”
“Due any time. I came to grab her some deep-fried pickles.”
“You’d better not keep her waiting. Tell her we miss her at the store.” His wife works at Thrift and Save with me. It’s a gently used clothing store that sells stuff for super cheap.
“Later, Hads.”
A loud truck backfires where it’s idling at the edge of the parking lot where the trees are leaning on the fence. I toss the remnants of my treat into a nearby trash can and dust my hands on my skirt, hoping the powdered sugar I leave behind isn’t noticeable.
I watch a group of guys unload more trees.
My gaze is drawn to one guy in particular as he hefts the biggest tree by the trunk over his shoulder as though it is weightless and drops it with the rest. He removes his gloves, tugging them off with his teeth.
Recognition dawns on me as I take in his full height.
I don’t think I’ve seen him since our high school graduation, but he still sports the same dark-haired, messy bedhead look.
And there is no denying those eyes that are dark as ever. Unreadable. Mysterious.
Damon. The ultimate bad boy. The one parents warned their daughters to steer clear of. The guy they’d use as an example. A cautionary tale. ‘Keep in line or you’ll be just like Damon…’
He’s still got a dark edge. A wicked smile. One that makes a girl shiver in a good way thinking about how rough and strong his hands must be.
His gaze catches mine, his lips turning up in a quirky smile.
I can’t help but wonder if any of the rumors about him are true.
Wild barroom brawls that ended in bloodshed and handcuffs.
Some even say he killed a man. The last thing I heard about him was that he had joined the military.
But now he’s here, and I’m curious to know how long he’s been home.
His hand jerks upward, giving way to a slow wave.
Is he waving at me? Before I realize I’m even doing it, I return the gesture.
His smile grows fuller, but then someone calls his name, and he returns to work.
I continue watching him for a second longer than I should.
“Ha, busted,” Sydney calls out. “That doesn’t look like Nick.” She guides me back toward the donation table. “Was that Damon?”
“Mhmm. I was thinking about getting a tree.”
“Hope they do delivery because I am not helping you lug one of those home.”
“I was just thinking about it.”
“Your shift starts in five minutes. Get a move on if you want a chance to talk to Nick before the sticky-fingered goblins descend upon you.”
By the time I go by the donation booth, Nick is gone. I am able to slip the bear into one of the collection boxes.
The clock tower in the center of town chimes, and I rush to get to my post at Santa Land.
Kids are lined up in their holiday outfits and festive pajamas for a chance to tell Santa their Christmas wish while getting a picture snapped.
I hurry to get into place next to the golden rope.
Santa winks at me, and my cheeks flush. Do I know Santa?
It’s hard to tell beneath that fake beard and wig.
I shove my hand into the bowl on the table filled with mini candy canes, grabbing a handful.
The first kid steps forward, and I hand him some candy and wave him through.
The line doesn’t stop. Every now and again I catch glimpses of Damon loading up Christmas trees.
Our eyes never meet again, but sometimes I think I can feel his gaze on me.
And it feels welcome. Familiar. He reminds me of my ghost.
By the end of my shift, my back and my feet are killing me. My skirt is covered in sticky handprints. I swing by the face painting booth to fetch my boots and take off these ridiculous elf shoes. I take a seat next to Syd while she finishes helping pack up the booth for the night.
A shadow falls over me. I glance up to see Nick wearing the pants of the Santa suit minus the beard and jacket. “Thought you could use this.” He hands me a hot chocolate.
“Thanks.”
Sydney nudges my shoulder with hers. ‘Talk to him.’ She mouths the words at me.
Nick grins, clearly reading her lips. “You looked great out there.” His gaze lingers on my chest a second too long, and his cheeks redden when he realizes I’ve caught him staring.
But that was the point of this whole ridiculous idea.
To get his attention. So I guess I should thank Sydney. Her plan is working.
“Thanks. This isn’t my normal style.”
“You mean those elf ears aren’t real?”
“Ha. You’ve got jokes.” I pull the hat off followed by the headband and instantly feel relief. I run my fingers through my hair. Sydney pretends to busy herself shuffling some makeup brushes around, moving them from cup to cup, but I know she’s hanging on every word we share.
“So, I was wondering if I could get your number.”
“Yeah okay. Sure.” If he were the one sending me those texts, wouldn’t he already know it? Though if it were him, he wouldn’t want me to know that, I guess. He hands me his phone, and I type my number in.
“Think I could call or text you later?”
“She’d love that,” Sydney answers for me with way too much cheer. “But you should do me a favor and go with her to get me some peppermint bark before it’s all gone. You wouldn’t want her walking around by herself looking like a whole damn meal.”
I glare at Sydney, but Nick holds his hand out. “Shall we?”
“Sure.”
Syd waves her hands forward, shooing us away from the booth.
“I’m sorry about that. She’s bossy and embarrassing.”
“I think it’s sweet. She obviously cares about you and wants to see you with a good guy.”
“Do you think you’re a good guy?” The words roll off my tongue before I can stop them.
Nick squeezes my hand. “Maybe.”
We stroll through the booths, most of them packed up for the night.
Sydney won’t be getting any peppermint bark, but I think that was her excuse to force Nick and me together.
I half-expect him to steer us toward the lit-up gazebo.
The romantic choice, but he steers me toward the edge of the parking lot near the leftover trees leaning against the fence.
A peculiar smirk crosses his face. He gestures to the abandoned trees. “Do you ever think about just grabbing one and running off?”
“Do you secretly dream of being the Grinch Who Stole Christmas?”
Nick chuckles. “Is it stealing if it’s going to be tossed out anyway?”
I imagine how silly the two of us would look. Running down Main Street with a seven-foot Blue Spruce, leaving a trail of sharp pine needles and scandal. “I think that might make us criminals.” I can picture the headline now in the Mistletoe Pines Gazette: Local Thieves Steal Christmas…
He grins wider. “I’d go bad for you.”
The line is cheesy, but it hits me in the warm center of my belly.
I can’t resist returning his dopey smile.
We survey the rejected trees, making lame conversation about the ones with lopsided tops, misshapen branches, and empty gaps from losing too many needles.
The conversation comes easily enough, but I don’t get that spark I was hoping for.
Maybe I’m nervous and self-conscious thanks to this elf getup.
He glances at his watch. “I’d offer to walk you to the tree lighting ceremony, but I have to go help my sister load up the toys. I’ll catch up with you?”
“Sure.”
As he’s walking away, I get that weird sensation of someone watching me. The hair on my arms stands as goosebumps pebble along my skin. I glance at the lot where Damon was earlier, but I don’t see him. And yet, that familiar warmth curls in my belly.
I debate texting my ghost, but I am never the first to reach out.