A Christmas Arrangement (15 page)

“Absolutely.  The store will be closed while you’re gone, so I’ll just be cleaning today’s buckets and getting them out of view.  What are you going to do with him, I mean, from now on?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t had time to think about it yet.  Would you like to keep him?”

“I would love to, but my apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

I looked at K.C.  “Count me out,” she said.  “Shim’s got the run of the roost.  I don’t think he’d take too kindly to a dog.”  K.C. and I had run into Shim the cat at a customer’s house and he became a stowaway inside Zombie Sue.  K.C. ended up adopting him.

“We should give him a name,” Daphne said. 

“I heard Quincy say his name while she was on the phone,” K.C. said.  I gave her a strange look.  “Not, that I was listening in, or anything.”  She waived her hand dismissively.

He walked over and sat down at my feet, wagging his tail and gazing at me as if waiting to hear my reply.

“I called him Jerome.  It’s all I could think of on the spot.  But I’m not naming him.  I won’t want to give him away if I name him.”  He put his paw on my leg, indicating he wanted to be picked up.  I lifted him and he immediately licked my chin.

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t keep him, Boss.  A single girl like you, living alone—”

“Yeah, but Alex—”

“Alex is gone a lot.  I bet he would worry less about you if you had a watch dog around the house.”

I looked down at the little brown ball of fur.  “I don’t know, but we’ve got to get going.  I’ll figure something out later.  You better bring an extra coat, Santa.  I think it’s going to snow again.”

K.C. must have worked her magic juju because the skies stayed cloudy but clear until the helicopter landing.  I waited nearby where the kids were lined up outside Santa’s Castle, a temporary booth beautifully designed by the Hillside High School drama department.  Once the helicopter landed, K.C. stepped out, waived like she was on the deck of a steam ship greeting her loyal subjects and basically did her thing.  She walked over to the back of the Castle where the Santa exchange took place with Fred. 

I welcomed Santa to his workshop, gave instructions to the kids about telling Santa what they wanted for Christmas, and then stepped aside while Santa’s helpers took over the reins.  Once again the high school drama department had provided a wealth of resources for the celebration, including dressing up as Santa’s helpers.  It was a new feature this year which would continue for many to come, ensuring I would never have to wear the elf costume again.  At least for work. 

Once the Santa was settled, Zombie Sue and I made our getaway.  I pulled into the back parking lot of my shop and as if on cue, the snow began to fall.  Daphne was outside with the puppy, walking along the creek bed at the back border of our lot.

“C’mon Jerome,” she said to him.  I grimaced at the name she’d apparently taught him, because he yipped and trotted after her obediently.  “Do you think it’ll snow like this all night?” she asked.

“I hope not.  We’ve got a lot of cream puffs to eat if people don’t show due to the storm.”

“And chocolate drop cookies and lemon bars and mulled cider and hot chocolate and—”

“Please stop, you’re torturing me,” I said.  If we didn’t make enough sales that night at the open house to offset all the costs of putting it on, I would be sunk financially.  I had purchased everything based on the previous year’s sales.  One terrible storm could be the cause of my financial ruin.

“How was the helicopter landing?” Daphne asked.  “You look so cute in that elf costume, by the way.  I love your giant ears.”

“Thanks, it was great.  At least the snow held off for that part.  K.C.’s a natural at landing in a helicopter and captivating an audience.  Let’s get inside.  I need to change.”

“I’m going to stay out here for a few more minutes.  Jerome seems to love the snow.”

I rolled my eyes as I went in.  Jerome wasn’t a good dog name.  I’d only used it to tease my boyfriend on the phone.  Somehow Lucky or Rover hadn’t seemed like seductive man-candy names to bait him with.  And now the poor dog was being punished by my knee-jerk decision.

K.C. had arrived at the shop before me and had already changed her clothes.  She greeted me at the back door, holding the portable phone to her chest.  “Phone’s for you,” she said in a somber voice.

“Hi Quincy, this is Jacob from Tiny Tim’s Troubadours.  I hate to have to tell you this, but we’re in a blizzard down here in Provo.  Our van slid off the road and I don’t think we’ll make it up there.  We’re waiting for a tow truck, but they’re so busy with all the wrecks, I don’t know how long we’ll be out of commission.  I’m so sorry.”

I told him I appreciated the call and to be safe out there.  It was a big letdown not to have our Dickensian quartet or traveling singers available for the ambiance of our Christmas festival.  And even though it wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d let the planning committee and the community down.  Not to mention my Aunt Rosie’s reputation. 

The front door to the shop was still locked, but someone knocked on the window to get my attention.  It was a high school kid.  I let him in out of the snowstorm.

“I’m sorry but we don’t open until five-thirty tonight,” I said.

“Oh… I, um…wasn’t here for...” He looked past me, into the shop.  “Is Allie here?”

“I’m sorry, she’s not at the moment.  Is there something I can help you with?”

His voice was quiet.  His face had grown pink as soon as he said Allie’s name.  “Wuhl, no—I don’t know.  I need to make sure she got something I left for her.”

“Something you left here?”  I hadn’t seen anything, maybe one of the other girls had picked it up.

“No, at her house.”

“I’m confused.”  He looked confused as well and was obviously extremely uncomfortable in a flower shop, like most teenage boys were when they came in to order dance corsages.  “Here, let’s go sit down.  We’ve got plenty of treats to choose from.”  I showed him to the consultation table turned buffet for the evening.  We sat and I gave him a little plate pre-assembled with cookies and other treats. 

“Now, what did you leave at my parents’ house?”

“Wait,” he said, spitting cookie crumbs as he spoke, “you’re not Allie’s mom?”

I snatched the plate out of his hands.  “No! I am not Allie’s mom.  I’m her barely older sister.”  Barely being a relative term.  Stupid teenaged boys, anyway.  His mouth hung open and his eyes were the size of golf balls.  I must have scared him.  I handed back the plate.  “Sorry, you just surprised me.  I’m Allie’s sister.  Tell me what’s going on.”

“I thought she lived there, where you live.  I left her some stuff, a few times.  It was stupid,” he said, while staring at the floor, all the while his face glowing like a Christmas tree light.

“Did you leave a puppy on my front porch this morning?”

He drew his lips together. 

“What’s your name?” I asked gently. 

“Cole.”

“Cole, please look at me.” 

He slowly raised his head enough to gaze at me with as little exposure of his face as possible.  I realized he was absolutely petrified.

“Are you the Secret Santa?”

He nodded ever so slightly.

“You brought the chocolates and the perfume and the bear and the necklace…” he nodded after every item I ticked off the list.  “And the—pajamas,” that was a stretch, it was an uber sexy negligee, “and the puppy today?”

“Yeah,” he barely whispered.

“Weren’t you worried about leaving Jer—a puppy out in this weather, all alone?”

His eyes lit and his shy paralysis let up a little.  “I was watching the whole time.  I knew you would be out soon.  I’d just barely put him there.  I would have picked him up if you didn’t come out to get him.”

I went to do a head slap but ran into my giant, freak, elf ear.  “You’ve been watching me?”

“Just a couple of times—to make sure someone is home when I drop off the present—like with the puppy.  But how come it’s always you that comes to the door?  Why not Allie?”  I could hear the buildup of disappointment in his voice, having expected her each time and only seeing me, the ugly hag he thought old enough to be her mother.

“Cole, how do you know Allie?”

“She’s in my history class.”  Maybe I was getting old.  I had him at sixteen at the most.

“You’re in her—university class?”

He made a face and sighed.  “I’m in early college.  I graduated high school when I was fourteen.  I’m a junior at Weber.”

“Wow that’s great.  I’m impressed.”

He made a dismissive sputter with his mouth.  “College girls aren’t so impressed.  Except Allie.  She’s really nice.  I can’t believe that stupid jerk at the mall.”

“Did you give Allie a ride home a while back?”

“Yeah, I took her to your house.  She said that’s where she lived.”

The pieces were all coming together.  “Allie stays with me sometimes when it works better for our schedules.  She does work here, sweetie but she’s out of town.  I’m sorry I ate the chocolates you brought, but I can give the other things to Allie when she gets back.”  I imagined Allie’s reaction to the negligee.  “Are you sure about the um—night—gown?” 

His face bloomed like a pink azalea again.  “That one might have been a mistake,” he said to the floor.

“Would you like me to take care of that?”

His face washed over in relief and he nodded.

“Now.  About the puppy…”

“I can’t take him back.  I’m allergic to dogs and so is my mom.  She’ll kill me if she finds out how much I’ve spent on all of this.  Well, not the chocolates, she works at the place that makes them.  I could hook you up if you want to sell them here.  We get them for practically free.”

“Well, thanks, we can talk about that later, but let’s not change the subject.  Where did you get the dog?  Can we take him back?”

“I don’t think so.  I got him from my friend who came down from Idaho.  His cousin breeds them, but he lives in Montana or something.  He brought the puppies to Idaho to sell them while he was visiting my friend.”

It made me tired just thinking about trying to track down the breeder.  “You absolutely couldn’t take him back?” I asked him.

“Nah, my mom can’t have him around.  I guess you think I’m kind dumb, huh?”

“No.  I think you’re very smart.  And very thoughtful and sweet.  My sister is going to be so thrilled when I tell her she had a Secret Santa.”

“Don’t tell her who I am!   Please.  I wished I hadn’t written all those notes—you know?”  I nodded sympathetically.  “I just came today because I was worried about the dog.”

I agreed not to tell her his name, and assured him I would give Allie all the other gifts except for the nightie, for which I would reimburse him.  I knew a certain cop who might be interested in me keeping it around—I didn’t tell that part to Cole, of course.  And I found out that I had purchased a purebred Newfoundland named Jerome, who I decided to keep. 

There was no time to change out of my elf costume.  People were lining up outside, despite the constant snowfall.  The Christmas carols played on the overhead speakers—heavy on the MoTabs—all the candles were lit and K.C. had been assigned candle watching duty.  The treats were all uncovered, and the scent of cloves, cinnamon and citrus filled the air once the lid came off the hot mulled cider.  The delicious aroma complimented the pine boughs which hung throughout the shop.  We lightly brushed against their needles just before opening the doors so that the scent of fresh pine greeted people as they entered. 

We opened the doors and the crowds kept coming.  We handed out keepsake ornaments, visited with customers and sold fresh and silk arrangements along with entire decorated Christmas trees.  Daphne, K.C. and I moved constantly, helping customers, refilling platters with food, cleaning up paper plates and cups, and bringing premade arrangements from the back to fill in holes in the display where items had been purchased. 

I received enough compliments about my elf costume I was almost glad I hadn’t changed out of it.  Not enough to wear it the next year, though. 

As I stood in the front of the store, speaking with a woman about why we would never leave a poinsettia plant outdoors in Utah, I heard the most awful cacophony outside.  I excused myself to check and make sure there wasn’t a cat fight or something going on in my front parking lot.  It wasn’t cats.  It was a group of eight older women standing on the street corner, caroling.  A closer look revealed my mother and seven of her cohorts from the MLM.  I beckoned them to come inside.

“Oh, Quincy!” my mother said.  “There are so many people here.  This is wonderful.”

“I thought you’d be at the ward party,” I said.

“We were, but everyone was so excited to come down here, that we ate our ham and funeral potatoes, had a short little program, and that was that.”

“What about Santa?” 

“He made his appearance and then stayed to help clean up when the party was over.  The gals and I heard your musicians couldn’t make it, so we knew you could use our help.  We decided to be your roving carolers.”

“Great,” I said through a painted on smile.

“We’re getting requests,” said an elated Deborah Green. 

Requests to stop—I’d guessed.

“How did you find out we didn’t have musicians?” I asked them.

“Oh, through the grapevine,” Sherry Auerbach said.  These ladies were part of the inner circle of the MLM.  And just like the real mob, they just knew.

“We’ll do a number for your guests, Quincy, but then we have to go.  We are
roving
carolers after all.”  She glanced around the semi-circle and gave a generous wink.  All the sisters twittered and laughed.

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“One, two, three,” Mom said, then sucked in a huge breath.

“
Good King Wenceslas…”
The tempo was slow and the key was high.  Grace Bynum’s warbling soprano competed with Deborah Green’s growling alto and the rest of the voices petered out by the end of the first verse because they’d started out singing too high.  It was mostly humming and mumbling by that time anyway because nobody knew the rest of the words after
eve’n
.