Page 22 of Just for the Holidays

“Don’t be.” Teddy pours two more cups of cocoa, passing one to Nichol, deciding not to add,you were a welcomed distraction,to the reply. “Thank you for helping me out.”

“It was kinda fun…” Nichol says, with a proud smirk. “I haven’t run a cash register since high school, when I worked at the mall, over in Duluth.”

“They’ve come by every Wednesday for decades. My uncle Benji had Down's, so Gram had a soft spot for all those kids. The teachers and volunteers bring them and we load them up with goodies. They insist on paying their five-dollar lunch allowance every time.” Teddy explains, sipping hot cocoa.

“That’s sweet,” Nichol says, blowing on the steaming cup cradled in his hands.

The doorbell jingles again, announcing Marion Fitzpatrick and Hans—her pocketbook pup—strutting in. She pauses to peel off camel leather gloves, tucking them in, next to the snooty shih tzu, and then pats down the sharp edge of her black-cherry bob.

“Good morning Ms. Marion,” Teddy charms. “We haven’t seen you for a while.”

“Hello Theodore,” she says, tipping her nose up and peering back at the stacks of treats scattering the kitchen. “Oh, good! You’ve made holiday cookies,” she notes.

“Yep,” he grins. “How many would you like?”

“I was going to order three dozen, but I’ll take them today if they’re ready?” She flashes a big pearly smile through dark berry lipstick. “They’re for my party on Saturday, are they all fresh?”

“Baked just yesterday,” Teddy says.

“Perfect, that saves me from making the trip back to town later.” Marion trots up to the cash register. “Any variety will do,” she says, looking at Nichol, waiting.

“I’ll box them right up for you,” Teddy spins on his heel, catching Nichol’s eye. “Can you ring Marion up for forty-five dollars, Nichol?” he shrugs with pleading eyes.

“Sure,” Nichol plays along.

Teddy sweeps around the kitchen, collecting the three dozen cookies and neatly tying a shiny pink ribbon around the three boxes.

The register dings as Nichol charms a cackle out of stoic Ms. Marion Fitzpatrick.

“I like you,” she says, circling her finger in the air and pointing at Nichol.

Teddy steps up to the counter, setting the tower of boxes down.

“It’s nice to see a bright personality here again. Thatgirlwas terribly rude,” Marion adds with a distasteful wince.

Nichol smiles with a wink and steps out of the way.

“Loren isn’t working here anymore,” Teddy assures.

“Good.” Marion collects the neat stack, dangling from the pink ribbon, off her bony talons, and struts back toward the door. She pulls her gloves from her purse, petting Hans on the head and twists the knob. Her long beige trench coat sways in sync with the bell, jingling as she exits.

“Have a butterful day.” Nichol recites the goofy pun from the welcome mat.

Teddy chuckles.

Chapter 13

Nichol

The Lucky Charmer

The daylight hours passed in a blink, and Nichol didn't register the time until the sun began setting under the violet horizon. Time really does fly when you're having fun. Nichol had enjoyed being distracted from his current situation, for the first time since that balmy summer night in Sitges, skinny-dipping in the moonlit sea with jasper-eyed Javier.

He watched the baker float around the kitchen, organizing cookies and cupcakes in boxed sets as customers trickled in and out of the shop, placing holiday orders.

“I think this was the busiest day I’ve had in months.” Teddy beams with flushed cheeks. “You must be a lucky charm,” he says, staring into the packed fridge, trying to find space to fit just three more boxes.

Nichol huffs, “Lucky? Hardly.” He plops down on the cashier’s stool, leaning an elbow on the counter and smashing his cheek into his palm. “If I have any luck at all, it’s bad.”

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