Page 23 of Just for the Holidays

“What do you mean?” Teddy gives up on the refrigerator puzzle and sets the overstock next to Nichol, “Take these home to your family.”

“Sure, thanks.” Nichol twirls the silky pink bows with his fingers. “I wouldn’t be back here if I had an ounce ofgoodluck.”

Teddy slap-foots across the shop front, avoiding the melted slush puddles left behind from the customers' boots, and locks the door.

“I assumed you’re just visiting for the holidays?” Teddy says.

“I lost my job back in January,” Nichol confesses. “And I fucked around most of the year.” He leans back against the wall and knots his arms across his chest. “Hopefully, I’ve not destroyed my career with this insane gap.”

“So, you’ve been freelanceconsultingall year.” Teddy shrugs and grins.

Oh! Small-town baker man is savvy.Nichol hadn’t even thought of that. He makes a mental note to adjust his resume for Colby.

“You know… If you might be interested, I could use some help here?” Teddy bows his chin, slowly rolling his eyes to peer through his lashes at Nichol’s response.

Nichol pauses for a moment, chewing his lip, and searching the ceiling for an answer.

“You were pretty fantastic with customers today. Marion even liked you, she hates everyone.” Teddy smooths on the flattery. “I can’t pay much, but . . .”

“Sure, why not?” Nichol pats his knee and rises off the stool.

“Really?” Teddy chimes, near giddy, but managing to keep his composure.

“I should probably start walking… It’s getting dark out there.” Nichol says, expressing a long sigh, carrying a not-so-telepathic hint.

“You’re not walking home. I’ll give you a ride.” Teddy scoffs. “Let me grab my gym gear and we can get going.”

Nichol grins wide, satisfied that his message was received. “Oh, you don’t have to” he murmurs.

“I’m not letting you walk home in the dark,” Teddy says, gathering his keys. “Oh, Gigi!” He drops the key ring on the counter with a clank, “I’m sorry girl.” He rushes to the fridge, pulling out several boxes until he uncovers the bin of produce—shoved to the back—and frantically tears leaves of lettuce, snapping two carrots into thirds. tossing the veggies into a bowl and adding a generous pour of Guinea pig pellets from under the counter, before rushing through the aluminum gate and setting the food down at her hidey-hole.

The little critter pokes her head out, and lifts her nose, snubbing away from him.

“I’m really sorry.” Teddy pleads.

She slowly nibbles the edge of a carrot, before tearing into the bowl ravenously.

“I’ll be back soon.” He pets her head with the backs of two fingers and grabs a duffle back off the floor, beside his locker, slipping his feet into a pair of sneakers, and turning to Nichol. “Let’s roll.’’

Nichol twirls into his coat, following Teddy out—who pauses to lock the shop—toward the little Ford Ranger.

The short ride doesn’t allow enough time for the truck’s heater to warm up, so a continual stream of frigid air blasts their faces the entire way.

Nichol buries his hands between his tightly squeezed thighs and curls his shoulders, attempting to shrink into his own warmth.

“Sorry about the heater.” Teddy chatters. “This old thing needs a minute to get going.”

“It’s okay,” Nichol says, shivering violently.The walk probably would have been worse.He was never acclimated to Minnesota winters, even having grown up here, but it’s more painful after spending twenty years on the West Coast. When he was a kid, he theorized he’d been born into the wrong life, and that his soul must have gotten mixed up with someone else’s, who is out there living the blueprint he should have been.

Arriving back at Katie’s, Nichol hops out quickly.The air outside is actually warmer—maybe the walk wouldn’t have been worse?

“Should I come pick you up in the morning?” Teddy leans across the ripped vinyl bench seat, as Nichol is about to close the squawking truck door.

“Oh, right.” Nichol ponders for a second. “That works for me.”

“We open at six, So I’ll swing by at five-thirty.” Teddy’s mustache and beard curl with his wide smile and his blue eyes shimmer in the light cast from a security light aimed at the driveway from the side of the house.

“In the morning?” Nichol squeaks.

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