Chapter 5 Kit
The next two weeks were just a steady stream of community members coming into the library and telling me how beautiful they thought William’s team’s Christmas tree was.
This wouldn’t have been so bad if William hadn’t decided to volunteer as a tutor for the high school.
He was meeting with students every evening to help them with math, writing, and SAT prep.
So, he was there to hear the constant awe and wonder people experienced when seeing the tree for the first time.
Trent and I were at the circulation desk when Ms. Pearl came into the library. As she removed her mittens and reached into her satchel to pull a book out, she said, “Well, I hate to admit it, but I think that the Senior Citizens’ Center tree is the most beautiful one of the year.”
Trent didn’t even look up from his computer. “Kit hates it.”
“I don’t hate it,” I protested.
“She does,” Trent said as he clicked through the books he was about to check back into circulation.
Ms. Pearl put the book she wanted to renew onto the circulation desk between us. “Why, dear? It’s lovely.”
Trent stopped clicking and turned in his desk chair to face me. “Yeah, Kit. Why do you hate the most beautiful tree of the year?”
I sighed. “I just like a theme. Okay?” I opened the book Ms. Pearl was renewing to scan the barcode.
Ms. Pearl looked curious. “Who decorated the tree?”
Trent pointed a thumb over at William. “The guy over at the tutoring table.”
“Oh, I see,” Ms. Pearl said with raised eyebrows.
“What?” I said defensively. “That has nothing to do with how I feel about the tree! Why isn’t it believable that I just don’t like the generic tree with no theme?” I pushed the book back to Ms. Pearl.
“Because that sorry excuse for a tree that Ms. Patty put up last year didn’t have a theme, and you didn’t object then,” Trent said, turning back to his desk.
“Also, it’s a Christmas tree, dear. Christmas is the theme,” Ms. Pearl said, smiling at me as she took the book back.
As soon as Ms. Pearl left, I checked my watch. It was time to close. Trent stood up after logging out of his computer.
“Going to The Pub tonight?” I asked.
“Look at you, party animal,” Trent said, smiling. I had made a point of going out more since Trent called me a hermit. “I wish I could, but I told Sasha we could have dinner together at home tonight.”
“Sounds nice,” I said with a smile.
I decided to head to The Pub on my own. Aunt Rita was working a late shift at the hospital, so I thought it might be nice to get dinner at The Pub. I loved walking through town at night during the Christmas season. The twinkling lights looked enchanting.
The Pub was busy for a weeknight. The Nirvana song “Smells like Teen Spirit” played on the jukebox.
I decided it might be faster to eat at the bar, and I took a seat at one of the corners.
The bartender, Ray, gave me a menu without a word and disappeared to fill drink orders.
I ordered a glass of red wine and a steak salad.
I had brought a book with me. I pulled it out of my bag and flipped to the page I had marked.
Just as I started to sink into the story, someone sat down next to me. I looked up to see William.
William was looking straight ahead. He made eye contact with Ray who brought him a menu. “A Sweet Water IPA and a burger, please.”
William turned to me and asked. “Any good?”
Ray appeared with my wine and William’s beer.
“Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol,” I said, flashing the cover of the book at William. “I’d say it’s known for being pretty good.”
“Oh, a classic,” William said, popping a peanut into his mouth with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Like our Christmas tree.”
I rolled my eyes, but I bit my tongue. Over the last two weeks, I had tried not to let William get to me, but there was just something about him.
I was known for being able to let everything roll off my back.
I was known for being polite and considerate, but principled and determined.
I took pride in this, but there was something about William where I just bluntly wanted to call out his bullshit.
Unfortunately, this seemed to amuse him, and he never lost his composure.
“Agreed that A Christmas Carol is a classic. Disagree that your tree is a classic,” I said opening my book back up as if I were getting ready to read.
“Oh, come on, Kit,” William said. “When are you going to admit it? People love the tree because it’s well done and, in fact, a well decorated, classic Christmas tree.”
I shut the book and looked at him. I took a deep breath and said, “I don’t think that. I think it’s generic, and you cheated by having a designer pick out the ornaments.” William nearly spit out his drink.
“Cheated? Because I bought the decorations in Atlanta? So what?” William said.
I could tell I struck a nerve by calling him a cheater.
He put his beer down on the bar. He sat back in his chair and looked at me.
“I decorated that tree with three octogenarians and a very anxious middle-aged program manager. It was no small feat.”
“What do you want? A medal for helping?” I said—then, before I could stop myself: “Or do you think by volunteering and working in Creekstone, everyone’s just going to love you and sell you their land?”
Before William could respond, Ray put our food in front of each of us with another glass of wine for me and a beer for William. Ray gave us both a look like we’d need that second drink. I let out a frustrated sigh and drained my first glass of wine.
We sat silently for a few minutes. I was mixing my salad and cutting the steak into smaller bites when I looked up and noticed two women about my age talking to each other and giggling while making eyes at William from the other side of the bar.
“Do you know them?” I asked, pointing my fork over at the two women across the bar.
William looked up. “I don’t think so,” he said between bites of his burger.
I took another sip of wine as I watched the women whispering and giggling.
Finally, one of the women, a tall, thin brunette, got up from her stool and teetered her way over to our side of the bar.
She sat on the other side of William. The woman was wearing an impossibly short mini skirt and a tight sweater top that had a low-cut V-neck showing off her cleavage.
She had her hair pinned back, which made her dramatic eye makeup more noticeable.
I couldn’t help but wonder if this was William’s type.
William looked at me out of the side of his eye before turning to the woman.
She gave him a seductive smile and said in a sultry voice, “Well, hello. This is kind of funny, but I think we matched.”
“Excuse me?” William said, smiling as he took a sip of his beer.
“On the app, SingleMingle,” she said, holding up her cell phone and shaking it a little with a coy smile.
I felt my eyes grow wide. I tried to look straight ahead, but I was dying of curiosity. I picked up my wine glass and took a sip. I lifted my book and stuck my nose in it to cover up the shocked look on my face.
“Is that so?” William asked. He got his cell phone out of his pocket and swiped a few times. “Well, it appears that we have.” He looked down at his phone as if to check something and then back up at her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, SweetPeach706.”
She held out her hand and giggled. “. My name is Katie.”
“This profile picture simply doesn’t do you justice.” William shook her hand. He turned away from me so that I couldn’t quite hear what he was saying. I leaned over as far as I could without falling off my bar stool.
Whatever William said, Katie found it hilarious, because she threw her head back and laughed. He leaned forward a little and whispered something else. I nearly knocked my salad off the bar trying to hear what he said.
Katie poked her bottom lip out in a pout and hopped off the bar stool. She put her hand on William's leg and leaned forward dramatically, popping a shoulder toward William and said, “Well, I understand. If you’d like to meet up some time, you know where to find me.” She winked and trotted away.
William turned back toward his burger. He picked it up and took a huge bite. I watched as Katie took her seat back at the bar with her friend. She gave a little wave to William who smiled back at her. I hated that I thought he looked cute when he smiled like that.
“Did you match with that woman on a dating app?” I asked.
William put his finger up and pointed toward his full mouth. He took his time chewing his bite of burger and then took a long gulp of beer.
“Why, Kit? Were you listening in on my conversation?” William finally asked innocently.
“Um, everyone in the bar was listening in on that conversation.” I was annoyed that William was pointing out that I cared.
“Are you seriously on a dating app here in Creekstone?” I practically hissed the question.
“Why are you dating women in Creekstone? You live in New York or Atlanta or wherever.”
“First of all, I wouldn’t call what people who meet on SingleMingle do dating,” William said matter-of-factly.
I blushed at the thought of William hooking up with that woman later.
I let a puff of air out of my mouth because I hated that I had blushed.
William turned back to his burger and picked it up.
“And secondly, I live in Creekstone, Kit. I don’t know what’s so hard to believe about that, but I live here now—so dating or, in this case, SingleMingling in Creekstone is a perfectly logical. ”