Page 17 of Christmas By Lamplight
The reporter stopped by at three, filmed the flurry of activity, and interviewed customers in line.
“What brought you here today?” she asked a young father.
“Christmas Eve. It’s tomorrow, and no one should have to spend Christmas Eve closing a business. This is our town’s only bookstore. It matters to us.”
Not everyone bought much, but they bought what they could. Some could only afford a bookmark or a single paperback. But they came—five hundred people, maybe more, throughout the day. Ten dollars here, twenty there, and one woman bought two hundred dollars’ worth of books for her book club’s next two sessions.
At eight p.m., the last customer left, and Carrie flipped the sign to closed. She turned back and looked at the sparsely populated shelves, scattered cardboard boxes, and the coffee station long since drained.
The three of them sat behind the counter, too exhausted to stand.
“I can’t feel my feet,” Shannon said.
“I can’t feel my face,” Tanner added.
“I can’t feel anything,” Carrie said, then laughed. It was slightly hysterical. “How much did we make?”
Shannon counted the cash and then tallied the sales for the day. The total had been steadily climbing—ten dollars here, fifty there, the book club’s two hundred, and the online sales had been coming in all day, as well. They’d even received some online donations after the morning news segment aired.
Carrie looked over Shannon’s shoulder at the computer screen and blinked. She leaned closer. “Is that real? Are you sure?”
A stunned Shannon stared at the screen. “Six thousand, eight hundred and forty-three dollars and seventeen cents,” she said slowly.
Carrie was too overwhelmed to speak for a moment. “That’s enough for the lease payment, with enough left over for January’s utilities and some inventory.”
“Enough to keep going,” Tanner said quietly.
Shannon turned to Carrie. “They know you’re here now. They’ll come back.”
Carrie looked around at beautiful, now sparsely populated shelves. “We did it.”
“You did it,” Tanner corrected.
“And the town. All those people!” Shannon said.
“We all did it,” Carrie said finally.
Outside, Main Street was quiet, and the glow of streetlights on snow reflected off the wall. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. The shop would be closed, but she’d drop off a check with the landlord. They would reopen the day after Christmas. More importantly, on December 27, the deadline would pass, and Lamplight Books would still be there.
She thanked Shannon and gave her a hug. She turned to Tanner, beside her, and leaned her head on his shoulder, and thanked him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently kissed her on the forehead.
Chapter Six
December 24th, Christmas Eve, arrived quietly.
Carrie sat in her empty shop, still stunned by yesterday’s success. She’d made her lease payment. She’d saved her business. The town had shown up for her.
And Tanner had left for LA that morning.
After helping her all day yesterday, he got a call from his agent. His meeting was moved up. Who scheduled meetings on Christmas Eve? Apparently, Crescent Gate Studios did. So Tanner was gone.
She tried not to think about him sitting at some gleaming conference table, signing a contract and moving on with his life. Of course, he’d always planned to go home. Her logical brain understood that. But her heart kept reminding her of how right it all felt. They’d all worked together, not as Tanner the actor, but like a team—no, like friends. Except her heart felt more than friendship.
Her phone buzzed.
Shannon: Turn on Channel 7. They’re replaying yesterday’s footage.
Carrie pulled up the local news on her phone. The station was doing a Christmas Eve special, showing heartwarming stories from the past year. Her shop was featured—footage from yesterday’s steady stream of customers and the three of them working together. The community came through for her.
