Page 20 of A Little Merry

My heart broke wide open for him. He’d taken the first big step in stating his truth, and I helped. I was falling in love, and it hadn’t even been two full days. How could this be happening so quickly?

“Get the fuck out! These aren’t yours. Maybe Merry painted them, but not you with your cold-ass heart.”

Ethan took a deep breath, then let it out. “They’re all signed. Take a closer look if you don’t believe me. Go ahead and laugh. I can take it. I’ve kept them hidden because I was told this kind of art was fluff, and no serious artist would put this kind of work out into the world, so I’d paint one every now and then and hide them in this room. Well, not anymore.”

If I wasn’t mistaken, I detected a bit of pride coming from Ethan, which I hadn’t seen when he showed me his darker, tragic work.

“What the actual fuck, Ethan?” Lucas said. “These are great! Are you fucking kidding me? You know the folks in this town will eat this stuff up. It’s their town, their shops. You not only captured the feel of this place, but you even incorporated one of Cricket’s group marriages. Look at this one.”

I looked closer and sure enough, Ethan had painted one woman and three guys walking in front of Christmas Carousel, the year-round Christmas shop run by Rudy Camarari, who was in exactly that kind of relationship.

The shop was also where I wanted to work year-round. I’d put in an application, but so far, I hadn’t heard a word. Too bad. It would be the perfect job for me. Owning my very own year-round Christmas store was my life-long dream, but I just couldn’t figure out how to make it happen. I’d take the next best thing and work in one if that were all I could do… at least for now.

“I love them all,” I said, meaning every word.

“Let’s get some of these over to your booth,” Lucas said as he slapped Ethan on the shoulder. “You’re one slippery fuck. Never thought you had it in you.”

“Never thought I’d be putting these up for sale, but I am,” Ethan said. “We’ll see if it was the right move or not.”

Lucas loaded up his cart. There was a creaky service elevator in the back of the building that we would use. No one used it on a regular basis. Too afraid it might break down, and it would take hours to get you out of the damn thing. Different for moving, though. You simply placed the items in the elevator, then sent it up or down to the appropriate floor. You either dashed up or down the stairs to meet it, or somebody was already waiting for the load when it arrived. I had to learn that the hard way.

I got stuck between floors when I was moving in, but thankfully, I called 911 and Fireman Hunter, a kind and courageous man, came to the rescue. And if that wasn’t enough, he helped me move the rest of my stuff into my apartment. I knew right then and there that I’d made the right decision to live in Cricket. The people were amazingly kind.

After last night with Ethan, along with knowing he was the artist behind my favorite painting of all time, well, I was in love with him, the town, and my new best friend Noelle, who had helped me sneak around with the tree, ornaments, and lights out on the rooftop early this morning.

I worked with Lucas for the next three hours, bringing some of the paintings over to the booth, then helping Ethan hang them. Ethan decided that some of the work was simply too good to sell the original, without making a few copies first. We sorted them out and brought down much of the rest.

At some point, Connor came over, carrying drinks and muffins. He looked almost pained to have to walk into all this Christmas bliss.

The entire square buzzed with excitement while folks set up their booths. There were Christmas ornament booths, doll booths, hand-made jewelry, air plants, homemade soaps and candles, fine wood crafted tables, lamps and chairs, leather purses and backpacks, dresses and hand painted scarves, special tree-topers, and don’t even get me started on all the delicious baked goods that featured vegan selections, gluten free and regular. I couldn’t wait to immerse myself in the entire experience. There were even several groups of carolers, dressed in traditional Dickens-era clothing strolling around, bringing joy to everyone they met.

I couldn’t be happier. All we needed was some light snow, and the day would be perfect.

Christmas was only a week away, and this town and these folks were more than ready for it.

Townsfolk already milled around Ethan’s booth, enjoying his paintings and wanting to buy them. The festival hadn’t even started yet, and Ethan had already made several sales. He was charging several hundred dollars for each one, yet no one seemed to care. They simply loved his paintings. I could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t believe any of this, but I did. His work was simply lovely.

“If I have to endure one more group of carolers this morning, I think I might explode,” Connor said as we hung the last framed picture.

“But they sound so good,” I told him.

“It’s too damn early in the morning for it. Can’t they wait until the festival officially begins?” Lucas said, as he helped Ethan with some last-minute issues inside the booth.

I glanced down at my phone for the time. “Itofficiallybegins in ten minutes. I’d say they were right on time.”

“They’ve been singing for the last hour,” Connor continued, having to make his point. “And it’s the same damn songs, over and over. Aren’t there any new ones? How many times can we hearDeck The HallsorSilent Nightand get excited?”

I finished getting the counter set up for Ethan, who was already busy with customers who had fallen in love with some of the smaller canvases, when I turned to the two grumps and said, “How about if we take a little break? Pick up a few savory pockets from Sweetie Pies and take some refuge in my apartment. My treat.”

Connor took a step back from the painting he’d just hung, then turned to me, grinning. “You got yourself a deal. Get me the hell out of here.”

“You two go on ahead,” Lucas said. “I’m going to hang out here with Ethan to make sure everything holds up the way we planned. I might catch up with you later.”

“Sounds good,” I said. Then I turned to Connor. “You know… we can even watch one of my favorite episodes of Gilmore Girls. I mean, you did say that you never saw an entire episode, right?” I asked, thinking now would be the time.

I expected him to balk at the whole idea, but instead he said, “Sounds like a plan.”

I could hardly believe it. Mr. Coffee Grump was coming home with me to watch my favorite show. It had turned out to be a great day on so many levels, I wanted to dance back to my apartment, but I knew that might be a bit over the top for Connor.

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