Page 38 of Blame It On The Reindeer

She watched me with suspicious eyes as if she didn’t trust me not to turn around and bail.

“Alright. There are fifteen raffle baskets, so we’re going to set them up on these two tables. Each basket is numbered, and then there are the corresponding boxes that go beside them for the raffle tickets. If you want to work on one through seven, I’ll put up eight through fifteen on that table.”

“Sounds good.”

She nodded and gave me one last suspicious look before getting to work.

The tables were already set up with blue tablecloths and white lights, pulling in the cold-as-ice theme she was going with this year. We worked together efficiently, keeping a great rhythm until someone came and called her away for another issue they needed her to deal with.

I finished up the last few baskets, then took the supplies back to her office, where I spotted the broken sign on her desk. I hated how disappointed and almost devastated she looked when the kid told her what happened.

I found a stack of Post-It notes on her desk and left her one, letting her know I was running to the store and would be back.

While it sucked not having my truck, it was nice being in a small town where almost everything was within walking distance.

A bell dinged over my head as I walked into the hardware store, having been here a few times already since I’d been back in Sugarplum Falls. I went to the back of the store where I knew they kept the lumber and started picking the pieces I wanted. Iknew that a wooden arch wouldn’t be anything compared to the sign that had been broken, but the least I could do was try.

In my mind, I pictured a beautiful white arch that was wide enough to fit the bench Santa and Mrs. Claus would sit on but thin enough that Jasmin could easily store it in the supply room without it getting damaged. I grabbed a couple of 4X4s, a can of white stain, and some other necessities and headed toward the register.

I looked around for the older man who had helped me the last time I was in there but waited patiently at the register when no one appeared.

“Hi, sorry about the wait,” a voice said that sent chills down my spine. My jaw clenched as I gripped the shopping cart handle harder. She came around the corner, wearing a smile on her face until she recognized me.

“Oh. Hi, son.”

Twenty-Three

Brody

“Don’t call me that,” I snarled, refusing to lift my head to look her in the eyes.

She raised her hands in front of her, giving me space like I was a caged animal about to attack.

“Where’s the older guy who works here?”

“He’s out sick. It’s just me today.”

“Fine. I’ll come back another time.”

I shoved the cart off to the side, ready to slam through the door to get the hell out of there when she spoke and stopped me in my tracks.

“I’m sober, Brody. Have been for five years.”

I glared at her reflection in the door as she watched me.

“I know you’re angry with me, but I wanted you to know that. I don’t drink anymore.”

I spun around so fast that I startled myself.

“What—do you want me to say that I’m proud of you or something?” My words were like ice, seeping out of my body like the poison I felt every time I thought about her.

“No. I don’t deserve that.” She pulled her shoulders back and took a deep breath. “No one has more regrets in life than me. I know that I can’t change what happened in the past, and that’s something I willforeverlive with. But Brody, I’m not the same person I was back then.”

“You act like I care,” I sneered, hating this side of me. But this anger had been living inside of me for so long that it was begging to be set free.

“I’m not asking you to care,” she said softly, stepping out from behind the counter while still giving me my space. “You lost your father, and I know how hard that was for you. I lost my husband. My best friend. I was in a bad place back then, Brody. There’s no way you could understand. But there was nothing, and I meannothing,that I wouldn’t give to change that day.”

“Well, not drinking at work and passing out drunk would have been a start.”

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