Page 2 of Flirting with the Scrooge

I push an empty box to the side with my boot. “That’s true. He can’t be the only one with an undecorated house.”

“And while you’re there, you can tell me if he’s hot or not. Perhaps a holiday hook-up is exactly what you need. He can twittle your tinsel. You can deck his balls.”

I bark out a laugh. “No twittling. And the only balls I’ll be playing with will be covered in glitter.”

“I’m sure the glitter can be arranged. Some guys might be into that.”

I laugh and shake my head. “No glitter. I just want to spend this holiday with you and our friends.”

“Well, you’re no fun. Let me know how it goes and tell me if he’s hot.”

“You have a boyfriend.”

“I need to know if he’s hot foryou.”

I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. “Alright. You’ll be the first one I call.”

“You better. In fact, put me on speaker when you go over there. Then I can get the play-by-play.”

“That’s not happening. Kay. Bye.” I press end and shove my phone into my coat pocket.

I stack all the boxes and totes from the driveway and haul them into the garage. While I’m cleaning up, I steal glances across the street. So far, no one has come out and the curtains are closed, so I can’t see in through the large picture window.

Once I’m finished, I make my way inside. I glance at the oversized starburst wall clock. It’s still early. Maybe baking will get me out of this funk and I can bring them across the street to meet my new neighbor. Two birds. One stone.

TWO

SATAN’S BALLSACK

Connor

I toss my duffle bag onto the floor and lean my guitar case against the well worn fabric couch. It’s been years since I’ve been back to Grams’ house. Hell, it’s been years since I’ve been back to Harbor Highlands. I guess that’s what happens when a record producer stumbles into the bar your band is playing at and offers to sign you. It's been a lifelong dream to play music professionally, but it happened so fast. One minute I’m thirty-four, playing local bars, then the next my band is selling out various halls, theaters, and clubs. We’re not filling stadiums, but for a follow up tour, that’s a possibility. Unfortunately, the vanity of it all wore off pretty quick. As fast as I entered Hollywood, I was ready to leave. And that’s why I’m here.

When I got the phone call saying they were moving Grams to Whispering Pines Assisted Living and they needed someone to fix up her house so they could sell it, I jumped at the opportunity. I’m not Bob Vila or anything, but I know my way around a toolbox. At the very least, there’s always YouTube. Plus, it was the perfect excuse to get away and have some time to myself and contemplate some life decisions about what I want the next step to be.

I throw myself onto the couch and exhale a sigh. “Thanks for all your help, man. I appreciate it.” My phone rings in my pocket. Pulling it out, I glance down at the screen, sigh, then mute the call. A second later my phone dings notifying me of a voicemail.

“Anytime.” Devon, a friend and former roadie from the tour, sits in a rocking chair next to the couch.

We spent the last two days driving from California to Minnesota. Once we arrived in town, we picked up the storage container for all of Grams belongings. The rest of the family will go through it later.

“How long are you staying?” Devon asks.

“I don’t know. However long it takes to clean and fix this place up and get it on the market.” I glance around the room. Dated wood paneling covers three of the four walls in the living room. The one mustard yellow painted wall is covered with picture frames that have been there for the last twenty years. I know for a fact when I remove them there will be dark rectangular squares covering the wall from the faded paint. The carpet's color has dulled over time, making it appear like a faded patch of dirt on the floor. This might be more work than I bargained for.

“Are you sure hiding out in Harbor Highlands is what you need?”

Sitting up, I peer around the one room I’ve seen so far and all the work that needs to be done. I rest my elbows on my knees and scrub my hands down my face. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I can’t take it back now.” Even though I’m slightly terrified to find out what kind of state the rest of the house is in.

“You expect to go undetected here in the middle of nowhere Minnesota?”

“That’s what the beard is for.” I run my fingers over my newly grown facial hair.

He barks out a hearty laugh. “Just add some sunglasses and you’ll be incognito.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything. My Uber should be here any minute.” He rises to his feet.

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