Page 25 of A Christmas Spark
Mabel kicked the back door shut behind her as she carried in the last of three new boxes, all of them containing the same thing. There was a hot-ticket toy of the season every year, she reflected as she opened the first box, and this year it was a particular doll that had hair that was dyeable. They had been flying off the shelves, and she’d had to order as many as possible before her distributors started to go into backstock.
“Did we get more—oh, we did,” Vanessa said with a laugh as she walked back into the room, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Her auburn hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, a few pieces falling loose. “We should get those out on the shelves before we open. We sold out entirely yesterday.”
“If you want to grab a box, we’ll get them out there and start restocking,” Mabel said, pushing up the sleeves of her cranberry-colored angora sweater. “Time’s a’wasting.”
Vanessa laughed, grabbing the heaviest box and carrying it out for her grandmother. In no time, they had all the boxes out on the floor, and Vanessa started to unpack the dolls as Mabel turned on the Christmas music. The bouncy tune of “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas” filled the store, and Vanessa nodded along to it as she stacked the dolls’ boxes and looked at the shelffor the best way to organize them. There were a few different styles of doll, and she wanted to make sure the display looked just right.
The scent of cinnamon spice began to fill the air from the wax warmer as Mabel finished the opening duties that would need to be done before they unlocked the door, and then came over to help Vanessa. She glanced over at the cardboard box that George had left behind for Rascal, only to see that the small kitten was not at all where she’d hoped it would be.
Instead, she saw the kitten flying straight for the window display, which could only spell disaster.
“Not again!” Mabel called out, getting up with surprising agility for her age as she flew toward the kitten, intercepting her just in time.
Rascal had just managed to jump up and get her paws on a tuft of fake snow in the window display, rolling onto her back and batting it back and forth with it. She was also dangerously close to knocking over a toy train that was moving slowly around its track.
“You little troublemaker,” Mabel said, exasperated, as she scooped up the kitten. She glanced back guiltily toward Vanessa, who was beginning to stack the dolls on an upper shelf, quickly and precisely. “This is why you’re going to stay with George during the day,” she told Rascal, petting the kitten as she headed back over to where Vanessa was working. “You get into everything.”
Sure enough, no sooner had she set Rascal down than the kitten was off again, this time diving headfirst into a box that had been set aside for Christmas toy drive donations. Mabel sighed, checking her watch and glancing out to the parking lot to see if there was any sign of George’s truck. She adored the little kitten, but she was never going to get any work done at this rate.
“George will be here soon to pick you up,” she told the kitten, who responded by batting at the jingle bell pinned to her apron. “And not a moment too soon. I can’t keep rescuing you from your adventures.”
She tucked the kitten under her arm, trying to both hang onto it and help Vanessa with the dolls, despite Vanessa’s protests that she was perfectly fine, and could handle it. “I don’t want to put all this on you, just because of the kitten,” Mabel protested. She scooped the squirming creature into one hand, bouncing it lightly as she arranged the dolls’ boxes with the other.
“George should be here any second,” she added, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. It wasn’t even nine-thirty in the morning yet, and she was already frazzled. If the rest of the day was like this, she was going to be a mess by the time she went to go pick up Rascal.
She quickly pushed away any contemplation over why she might not like that idea… over why, for instance, she might not want to be an absolute mess when seeing George Lowery.
Thatdidn’t rate thinking about.
Mabel picked up a stack of smaller boxes, containing add-on colors for the dolls. They made great stocking stuffers, with five more colors to add to the ones that came with the dolls themselves. “I would have loved one of these when I was a kid,” she mused, stacking the boxes on the shelf. “I’m not surprised they’re so popular.”
“Really?” Vanessa chuckled. “I was never into dolls as a kid. More of the coloring book type.”
“And youalwayscolored in the lines, I’m sure,” Mabel teased her granddaughter lightly.
“Of course I did—” Vanessa paused, her joking tone fading as she wiggled the shelf slightly. “I think this might be a bit rickety.” She frowned, gently moving the shelf again. “I think all the kidsyanking boxes off of it for the past few days might have jostled something loose—or maybe split something around a screw? We should check?—”
Mabel glanced toward the door, where any second, customers were going to start lining up for her to open. She really needed George to hurry up. They were going to be slammed all day, she was sure of it.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” she said quickly.
Vanessa’s brow wrinkled. “Well, since George is coming by to get Rascal, maybe we should get him to check it out.”
Mabel shook her head. “We’re too busy. It’s just a little loose. I’m sure it was that way before and we just didn’t notice.”
“If you say so,” Vanessa replied, although she sounded unconvinced. “But maybe we shouldn’t put too much weight on it.”
“It’ll be fine for now,” Mabel said, continuing to arrange the dolls. “We’re too busy to worry about it today. I’ll deal with it this weekend.” She checked her watch again. “He needs to hurry up,” she muttered, pushing another two boxes of dolls onto the shelf.
“Looking forward to seeing him?” Vanessa teased, and Mabel just rolled her eyes.
“Getting him to help me watch Rascal is the best prank I’ve ever pulled, that’s all,” she said, but even to her own ears, it didn’t sound as convincing as she’d have liked. Shewaslooking forward to seeing George, and no matter how many times she told herself that it was just so that she could have a little peace and quiet, she couldn’t shake the anticipatory tingle every time she checked her watch.
She was so busy shrugging off the feeling that she didn’t notice the shelf giving another ominous wobble as she placed the last of the current row of dolls onto it. She glanced at it, admiring the display, just in time to hear a knock at the door.
George was standing on the other side, his heavy work jacket and gray hair dusted with snowflakes. Mabel tried to ignore the little flip in her chest as she hurried toward the door, unlocking it to let him in. She couldn’t help noticing how attractive he looked, with his cheeks ruddy from the cold and his hair a little messy from being under a hat, and she felt her own face flush slightly as she backed up to let him in.
“You’re late,” she said reprovingly instead. “Rascal’s already been on the verge of tearing up the place. We had a dickens of a time getting the new display finished before?—”
