Page 89 of Deck the Fire Halls

I sighed and waved that comment off, ignoring the thrill that gave me. “It’s new.”

He put his hand on my arm, his eyes serious. “I’m telling you, Rob. He isdown.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’ve been hanging out with the kids too much.” I gave him back his notepad. “So whatdid you talk to him about. It was about me, I’m guessing. Do I get any clues?”

He shook his head, smiling, as he collected a box of paper cups. “Nah, it was just about the upcoming fire inspection, that’s all.”

“Sure it was,” I said.

He chuckled. “He did mention you had some ideas for this place to run past me.”

Wait. What?

“He did, huh?”

“He meant no harm,” Gunter said. “He actually said they were great ideas and how excited you were to sink your teeth into some community projects.”

“Ugh,” I grumbled. “Sorry, I don’t want you to think I’m taking anything over. Because I’m not. I just had some ideas that you’d be in charge of. Should you decide you wanted to go ahead. I’d just be the helper.” I shrugged. “I don’t even know if it’s possible or feasible or what kind of funding we could get...”

“I’m always willing to listen,” Gunter said.

I took a deep breath and told him my ideas, the same ideas I’d outlaid to Soren earlier. Accredited training for the kids in a bunch of fields, such as retail, working a coffee machine, how to work reception. But also helping kids with their resumés, job applications, subject choice, and college applications.

“Not all kids have the homelife to help them with these basic life skills, like budgeting, rental applications, car loans,” I added. “And most of these kids are gonna be leaving Hartbridge in a couple of months, and cities can chew up a small-town kid and spit them out. I justthought if we could start up some classes, even if it’s in conjunction with the high school? I don’t know how that works, but if we can maybe help them get skills for a job when they go off on their own, they’ll have a better chance. You know, I’ve seen a lot of kids—or young adults, but they’re really just kids—and they come through the hospital system for drugs or abuse, and I just can’t help but feel that as a society we failed them. They had no one to teach them, no one who showed an ounce of empathy.” I shook my head because this went way off track. I sighed. “It probably sounds like a stretch, but from these kids here in Hartbridge to the shit I’ve seen in my old job, it’s not a stretch. It’s a real short step. And a simple thing like a few certificates and practical experience just might be the difference between getting a job and sleeping rough.” I let my voice trail off. I really hadn’t meant to get so dark. “Anyway, it was just an idea. Maybe a little start-up café in the vacant store next door, some tables out front. They’d learn barista skills, how to work a register, how to do staff scheduling. I’m sure there’d be some grants we could apply for. Could be worth looking into...”

Gunter’s smile was slow spreading. “I love it. I was just saying to Clay not too long ago that the kids in town don’t have much opportunity for practical experience.” He looked around the center, his eyes were dancing with possibilities. “We could set up a proper coffee machine in here... Or maybe a start-up café next door would be better. The real estate agent said it was empty... I should look into that. And yeah, the local high school would have a better idea about courses and vocationaltests. Maybe they already run some kind of program. I haven’t heard the kids talk about it at all. Evie was saying some of the kids travel to Mossley for their weekend jobs because there’s not enough jobs for teens here in town. Maybe we could create something? I don’t know what, but...” He grinned at me. “I really think you could be onto something.”

I was so happy I could have just about burst. “Awesome.” I clapped my hands together. “Let’s look into it.”

“I have no doubt there’ll be copious amounts of red tape,” Gunter said, “but we can only try. Thank you,” he added genuinely. “I really appreciate someone caring as much as I do.”

Hamish bustled through the door, his cute black fluffy dog under his arm. They were wearing matching pink coats, and I shouldn’t have been surprised by that, and yet...

“Good morning,” he said brightly. “Oh, Rob, I’m glad you’re here. I come bearing gifts. Well, okay it’s not actual gifts, it’s more instructions on the gifts, but you get the gist.”

Confused, both Gunter and I waited for him to put the dog on the floor, then he produced some envelopes from his inside coat pocket. He flipped through them and plucked one out. “Gunter, for you and Clay.” Then he pulled out another. “Rob, for you and Soren.”

Before either of us could ask, he gave Gunter a very pointed look before turning to me. “So Rob, every year, our little group of friends does a bit of a Kris Kringle thing. I put the names in a hat and Ren pulls one out and it goes in your envelope.”

I was familiar with how Kris Kringle gift giving worked. “Okay.”

Gunter, on the other hand, seemed confused. Until Hamish gave him another pointed look. “Oh, right. I forgot about it,” Gunter said. “Had a lot going on lately.”

Hamish gave him a big nod, like he’d done a good job for playing along.

I couldn’t help but smile.

Between Soren and Gunter’s secret conversation and now this? I had the feeling they were trying to plan something. I wasn’t sure. But I went along with it.

“Awesome,” I said. “What are the rules?”

“Oh,” Hamish said, grabbing my arm. “I’m glad you asked. The rules, yes. Given the somewhat-limited shopping experiences we have here in Hartbridge, I thought this year we could do something different, and the rule is you have to make the gift.”

Gunter stared at him. “Make . . . the gift . . .”

“Yes! Something homemade,” Hamish said, and he seemed to be making it up as he went along and, at the same time, equally horrified at the words coming out of his own mouth.

I coughed to cover up my laugh. “Okay. So pity the poor person who gets me.”

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