32. Fruit Cake Regifted
thirty-two
Fruit Cake Regifted
W e arrive at the booth and the most angelic, kind older woman looks up at me. She and her staff unloading boxes of holiday-wrapped fruitcake are wearing Blitzen Volunteer Fire Department sweatshirts with the Famous Kentucky Bourbon Fruitcake logo stamped below it.
“Gotcha.” Kourt whispers beside me.
My heart melts.
This is the kind of branding and advertising I’d do.
I can’t help but wonder if the fruit cake owner thought of that or Kourt did.
She looks as exhausted as any small business owner, but her eyes light up when she sees Kourt, and everything about her suggests she’s honored to be at our Blitzen Old Fashioned Christmas.
“Erika Amherst, I presume?” The fruitcake lady extends her hand to me. “I’m Jan Edwards, and I know your Great Aunt Josephine. She’s a huge fan of my fruitcake. Sends them across the US and internationally. Kourt might tell you, she kept me in business my first few years.”
“It’s incredible to meet you. I had no idea. There’s so much of Blitzen I’m learning and discovering every day. I can’t believe I didn’t know about you.” I glance around her tables at all the beautifully wrapped fruitcake and feel Kourt’s warm hand on my back.
“Erika, Jan just got a contract for three major stores in Chicago, and a specialty chain in Nashville. She’s been too busy to be seen around these parts.
” Kourt winks at Jan and she tosses her hand at him to hush.
I’m realizing, as I see the massive logo on the industrial-size truck that her people are unloading from—she’s much bigger than I think.
“Kourt told me about all you’d done here for Blitzen, and about you.” Her eyes dip between us, and my pulse ignites.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph . Standing next to the guy, I feel like I’m wearing the sex we had. Like people can see it or smell it on us. Butterflies sway in my lower belly, and I try not to smile too big or look caught.
“And that’s what brings us here. Would you like to taste the fruitcake?”
How could I not after that? Ugh. I prepare for a mouth full of dry crumbs, chunky nuts, and scary, chewy, candied fruit as one of Jan’s workers passes her a sample tray. Glutton for punishment, I dive in.
I stand corrected. It’s—incredible.
“Oh, my God. That just gave me a better orgasm than you did that night.”
Kourt kicks my shoe.
“What was that dear?”
“She said, ‘It’s so good, if she keeps eating this, her pants will get tight.’”
“Gotcha.” I whisper to Kourt with my mouth full of the best cake I ever tasted.
The air feels and smells like Christmas and everyone in Blitzen is here, either working or walking around with their kids, pointing and smiling and taking holiday photos.
Although I’m nervous about pulling this off for the masses…
in these days leading up to Christmas, I can’t help but feel I already have, especially as Kourt and I walk side by side through the brightly lit town square.
Hot chocolate stands adorn every corner.
They’re smoking turkeys behind the ice rink, and it makes my stomach growl in the best way.
There’s a crowd now where Kourt and I just left.
They’re all in line to get to the vendors, and a separate line waits outside the ice rink.
It’s really happening and walking beside Kourt, I feel the nostalgia of that place from when I was a kid.
I won’t ever have to search for it again.
We just created it. It’s all here in Blitzen.
“Erika.” Kourt’s voice is low, and it vibrates inside me. “This is magic. I knew you could do it, I just didn’t know it would feel like this. You’ve pivoted an entire town on its axis, and I’m blown away.” He turns to me, taking my hand in his as we walk through all the Christmas we helped make.
“Don’t be blown away yet, we still have Walter’s end coming up.” A light chuckle resounds between us.
“The tree farm was packed last night, I heard.”
“You heard right.”
“I do owe you thanks, all of Blitzen does.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Kourt. You made sure this came true for me, not just the firetruck.”
“I owe you more than you think, Erika.” Kourt stops in front of me.
His face is serious as he trails his fingers through mine.
My body shivers at his touch and I realize my nerves aren’t as much over the festival, Christmas in Blitzen, or my job and life back in Chicago.
They’re over him. It’s been him this entire time.
All of it. He has the ability to crush me in this very moment, and that is not what I had in mind when I signed up for a small-town Christmas via one eccentric great aunt.
“Kourt.”
“I don’t know what we’re doing or where this’ll go. This—you and me, Erika. This feels— ” Kourt clears his throat and shakes his head, and I can’t move or speak. I’m frozen. “You’re leaving before long… aren’t you?” He says it casually… forgiving.
Our gazes join for a long beat, and I can barely breathe.
“ Are you leaving?” Now it’s earnest. His honey green eyes sear the question through to my sole.
“Yes… I think.” I look down and away from him. Fuck. I don’t know.
“You think?”
“I mean, I wasn’t fired, but they told me to take a leave during Christmas.” My gaze lifts to meet his. He hasn’t looked away from me. “I guess I had originally planned to go back before the New Year, dependent on…”
“Dependent on what?”
“Look, I didn’t get fired, but my job’s not certain.”
“How do you mean?” His eyes chase my facial expressions and I’ve never seen him so invested. It makes me tremble down to my core, and I just want him to hold me. I just want to be back in front of that fireplace.
“As you would say, Kourt, I missed my shot.” I’m so embarrassed. I haven’t talked about this in depth with anyone but Archer, and not since I left, really.
“What does that mean?” He’s voice is adamant. He’s never asked me so many questions.
“It means, I went for a three-pointer and missed the whole damned backboard.”
“Did you just try to basketball ’splain for me?” He looks away for a second and comes back with a tilted smile on his face.
Relief floods through my body like a warm river. He’s smiling. We can talk about this, and I’m not under the gun the way I would be with the executives at the firm, and he’s not crushing my heart. He’s asking what I plan to do with it.
“I tried,” I say with confidence. He squeezes my hand.
“Tell me about it. What happened?”
We start walking again. “It was a big pitch for a huge account—and when I got there, this snarky assistant had misspelled my name. Erica with a C. Then, the three main executives stood and one exited leaving only two in the room for the pitch. Three is my number. You know, odd numbers and all. Or maybe you don’t.
It’s so stupid, Kourt, the way I think. I’m not far off from Aunt Josie over this stuff.
And… I don’t know… somehow it threw me. I let it.
Why? I don’t know. I’m an adult, and I’m fucking good at my job. But my pitch bit it… big time.”
“Look at me, Erika.” He forces my eyes to his.
“Nobody hits a hundred percent. You miss a shot—you can’t be afraid to take another. If you are, you might as well turn in your uniform. You’re done. If your bosses are worth a damn, they know that, too.”
Since arriving in Blitzen, I’ve wondered if that’s not the problem. Maybe they’re not worth it.
“Sounds like you need to get back in that pitch room.”
“Kourt—I—”
Music explodes behind us, as an alarm goes off on my phone. Right. The band.
“Is that a band?” He perks up—half changing the subject, and half curious. I’m still holding his hand, and he may not know it, but I refuse to let it go.
“Yeah. It’s a cover band that volunteered to do three nights a week between carolers.” I try to squash the pain in my voice and the tears threatening my eyes as the drums kick up, a solo trumpeter blows the intro and the lead singer belts, “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.”
We both smile as we walk past the crowd gathering to watch the cover band play.
The song is so spirited one can’t help but get happy, even though I’m not sure what was just determined about my fate with Kourt.
The memory of my mixtape clicking on as I drove here today catches up with me and I snicker.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just. This song was playing in the car on my way here.”
“Maybe because it is…” Kourt offers.
“What? The most wonderful time of the year?” I smile up at him, and I can’t help but feel that because of him, it truly is.
“Didn’t you have something to show me?”
“Yes. It’s good news and bad news, but also a conundrum?”
“God knows we all love a good conundrum, especially at Christmas. Lead the way.”
I punch his side laughing uncontrollably. If I stop, I might cry.
We’re okay, right?
It’s okay that I don’t know the answer. He doesn’t have it either, yet. But he’s still here, with me and willing to walk by my side. That’s something new to me. In most cases, anything that can be a deal breaker… usually is.
Kourt stares at the large, empty sleigh, baffled. “Did somebody steal all the stuff?”
“No. Not at all. It worked, silly. That’s the sad part. I guess a toy drive was needed as much as a food drive. Less than a quarter of the people with children on the food bank list have shown up and we’re already out of toys.”
“God. I didn’t realize how much of Blitzen is living paycheck to paycheck. And what about the ones who don’t get one at all.”
“Yeah, well some of them have actually been here helping, I heard.”
“You’re kidding? Who?”
“I didn’t ask. I thought it crucial to be discreet and not embarrass anyone. If people we gave to give back to the community or vice versa… that’s what we’re here for right?”
Kourt stares at the empty sleigh, deep in thought.
“It’s also why what you did is so important. The food is the essential part. You did that. This is just figuring out how to make some young faces smile once their bellies are full.”
Kourt grabs my shoulders and pulls me to him. He hugs me so tight I wish I could stay there all night. The smell of winter is on his coat collar, and his woodsy aftershave seeps off his neck as I drink his scent in.
He pulls away from me and forces a smile. “So, we just need more toys.”
“Yes, but Fisher’s gave all they can give.
Blitzen donated what they could, and all other organizations are strapped with any proceeds or efforts going to the fire truck.
It’s not like we can just go buy more toys, not that many, anyway.
Right now, June’s having someone pull down the large decorative present boxes we didn’t use.
They’re going to fill the sleigh with those for decoration, and when the kids come by to retrieve their toy, they’ll get a pass for the ice rink and free skates rental.
That’s the best I could come up with for now. ”
“That’s great. That’s something.”
“Well, they were supposed to get to skate for free, regardless.”
“What about that group you and Helen went to with Georgia?”
“It’s a ladies’ quilting group. I mean, there are a lot of them, and they want to be a part of it, but—”
“They just want a booth to sell their quilts.” Kourt’s voice dips in disappointment for me.
“Pretty much. I did mention that we were running low on toys to see if we got a bite.”
“Wait, don’t they make twin size quilts for kid’s beds? I know that’s not an awesome toy and it’s old fashioned, but—”
“This is an old-fashioned Christmas festival, and it’s freaking cold in Blitzen. Who wouldn’t want a new quilt for a bed spread to match their room, or have as their own Christmas throw for movie watching?”
“We made good use out of all my quilts and blankets—”
“Take it easy. This is for kids.”
Kourt smiles deliciously then comes back to the topic at hand. “I’m just saying. Not a bad gift. But don’t get ahead of yourself. They won’t have time to quilt them. There’s no way, and we need that sleigh full, from now until Christmas.”
“Are you kidding me? These ladies are hard core-quilters, with their own machines, and everything. You’re right, they can’t make a slew of twin size quilts overnight, but odds are if we ask, they’ve got plenty already made if they’re willing to donate them.
And what was that back there, McShotty… ‘ we need that sleigh full, from now until Christmas .’ Canned good Kourt is kind of hot when he takes a stance. ”
He leans down and bites my shoulder through my coat, and it doesn’t matter that it’s playful, my mind floods to when he did it in front of his fireplace, and heat pulls in my center.
A truck I don’t recognize pulls up behind us, then turns and backs its tailgate up toward the empty sleigh. Bob slides out of the driver’s seat and opens the tailgate.
“Bob?” Kourt walks up to greet him.
“Kourt, Erika. Good to see ya. Georgia said you all were running low on toys for the drive. Said you were about to run out.”
“Actually, we did run out.” I smile at Bob confirming.
“Well, I’m not sure these’ll be of any use to you.
I know they’re not the trendy toys kids want, or what Fisher’s donated.
I don’t have much of that in my store. Georgia convinced me to order these sort of hardware-themed toys years ago.
The idea of having the kid version of what mom and dad were shopping for.
Anyway, most of ’em never left the box, and they’ve been in the back collecting dust. I brought all of them I could find. ”
I move to the truck bed to peek at the few already-opened boxes. There are Radio Flyer Red wagons, little pink tool boxes and—
“No way!” Kourt pulls a long box off the truck. “Official vintage, Daisy Red Ryder BB guns still in the box? These are collector’s additions, Bob.”
Kourt is digging through boxes like a kid himself.
“The right kid might know it and want that. Anyway, Erika, I know the red wagons and pink tool boxes aren’t remote control cars or Barbies, but if you need something to fill the sleigh—”
“All this and a few of those quilts for kids and you’ve got a themed sleigh to fit your Old-Fashioned Christmas.” Kourt smiles at me, and then at Bob. He’s still marveling over a Red Rider BB gun I’m sure he’d like to possess himself.
I can’t squash it. This is the third time in my Blitzen experience that this man has overwhelmed me.
I race to Bob and throw my arms around his neck.
Here goes the inappropriate hug again. That strange emotional connection I probably shouldn’t broadcast in front of his former son-in-law, but I just can’t help feeling a kinship toward Bob.
This time Bob hugs me back tightly and there’s a tear in his eye.
It’s December, there is Christmas all around us, and the moment couldn’t be more sentimental, or Christmas movie curated, until I pull away from Bob and see Kourt’s face. It’s not a bad face, just a face that noticed.