Page 12 of Mistletoe Kisses

She handed me a small booklet. “I’m Mabel, director of the Dahlia Springs Chamber of Commerce. This is a coupon book for the festival if you haven’t snagged one yet. I’d love to show you the store.”

I opened my mouth to decline, but the woman must’ve cast some sort of magic because I found myself following her across the street.

While we walked, she filled the silence with information about an event happening this week with passports and prizes as incentives to visit various businesses. When we reached the store, I opened the door so she could enter. There was no way I could cross the threshold first. I considered bolting, but that would draw too much attention. Instead, I tried to shrink and hide behind her as I stepped inside the store. Maybe they were busy enough that no one would notice me. Not likely, given I’d been standing outside long enough to know that no one had gone in or out of the place.

Ron offered Mabel a strained smile. He ran his open palm down his red flannel shirt. “Good morning, Mabel. To what do I owe the pleasure? Oh! Hello. You look familiar.”

I turned toward Ron and hoped I didn’t appear as terrified as I felt. Could he read on my face that I was hiding a secret? Oh god, what if I looked like my dad? I thought I resembled my mom more, but my body interpreted every possibility of what Ron might deduce as a threat. My stomach heaved.

“That’s what it is. You’re the guy I nearly ran over last night. Sorry again about that. It was a good thing I hurried though because, as I suspected, my wife ate half my fries while I was gone.” He let out a booming laugh. “I’m Ron, by the way.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s no problem. I’m Arlo.” I managed a quick, closed-mouth Midwestern smile before turning and pretending to browse the nearest stack of books.

“Dinner at Inkwell Bistro? Caleb’s cooking sure is something.” Mabel smiled at me before turning to him.

“You’ve got your business face on,” Ron said before sighing. “What did I do wrong?”

“I need to print the passports today. What’s your activity going to be? Or are you not participating this year?”

Ron scratched the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. “Isn’t perusing books enough of an activity?”

“No.”

He laughed like he knew she would say that.

Mabel let out a put-upon exhale. “Why do you do this to me every year?”

“It’s tradition.”

“Some traditions are made to be broken.”

I kept eavesdropping on their conversation as I made my way around the store. There were a ton of books crammed in the main room, and there seemed to be a smaller offshoot room or two. There wasn’t much organization in the place beyond a sign for fiction and one for nonfiction. There may have been a system at one point, but it hadn’t been maintained as customers moved the stock around.

When I looked back at the counter, Ron caught my eye. “What would draw you to check out a bookstore during an open house of sorts for the downtown businesses?”

Mabel looked at me expectantly.

“A blind date with a book?” I blurted out.

He tilted his head. “What’s that? I’m not as savvy as you millennials.”

I returned his disarming smile. “You wrap a book, then write a fun or quirky description. Something that’s not specific enough to give away what the book is but enticing enough to make someone want to try it. You could write out the tropes and the setting or time period. Or you could pull out random facts about specific events in the story so the teasers are completely random.”

Ron slapped his hand on the counter. “That’s brilliant! What do you think, Mabel?”

“It’s perfect. Can you get it set up in time this week?”

“I’ll make it happen.”

She gave a firm single nod. “Off to get this printed.” She turned to me. “Thanks. Swing by the Chamber office while you’re in town, and I’ll load you up with some goodies.”

I shoved my hands in my coat pockets. “Okay. Thanks.”

Mabel hurried out of the store, and I didn’t have time to gather my wits and follow her out so I wasn’t left alone with my uncle.

He grinned at me. “I owe you one for getting me out of trouble. If you hadn’t come up with that, I would’ve landed myself on the silent auction committee for next year’s event.” He shuddered.

Something about his casual demeanor put me at ease. “It’s no problem.”

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