Page 27 of Ink & Snow
Garnet leaned in. “They altered it. Added rhinestones. They have an eye for fit and how your curves work with everything.”
“You don’t normally expect that from hiking clothes.”
I watched the snot-nosed kid hand their cookie off to a parent and run through the snow, waving at another kid who I recognized as Laura, Jenny’s kid, who had so very politely inquired whether she might pet Cherry.
In the easy communication of children, they began playing in the snow, building a snowman or whatever the fuck children built these days.
Garnet was still going on about winter and pole dancing clothes, and to be honest, the thought of wearing something warm seemed more appealing by the minute.
I was about to ask him to watch my wreaths and tell people I was on break when something pricked the back of my neck, a darkly creeping sensation.
I looked right where the snowy paths through the park were now lined with lanterns, light bottled and ready to be released upon first dark. Stalking along those paths came a man with drawn eyebrows, his jaw dangerously set.
“Who’s that?” I asked Garnet, keeping my voice low.
He leaned forward so he could look past me. “Oh, crap. Simeon, shh.”
But Simeon was busy chatting, and someone turned on Christmas music, drowning out Garnet. It bubbled out from speakers hidden all over the park. The effect was comical, almost, a guy reeking of trouble stomping up the path like Krampus, cozy lyrics in the air.
The guy rounded the corner, and before I could follow up with Garnet and get him to tell me who the fuck that was, the dude stopped in his tracks, shouting, “Jenny!”
It wasn’t so much how he said Jenny’s name. It was watching Laura cower and hide behind a half-formed snowman belly, her green mittens coming up to cover her ears.
And Jenny flinched, paled. I saw that even though she was wearing a wide scarf that went up to her chin. I also saw the shock on the older woman’s face whom Jenny had just sold a jar of jam to.
The Krampus in men’s clothing stomped forward, and before I had even come to the conscious decision, I was too.
“S-Soyer!” Garnet said, gloved hands reaching but not catching me.
I lengthened my steps to catch up with the guy. When I got almost within reach, I said, “Excuse me.”
No reaction, though I heard him huff, felt the violent tension in the air surrounding him.
A little louder this time, I repeated, “Excuse me.”
Again, nothing.
With my sweetest voice, I said, “Hey, fuckwit, that stick up your ass clogging your ears or what?”
Which made him stop. Slow as any man who’d not learned more than violence, he turned around to face me.
“What did you just call me, you little faggot?”
Something inside of me settled. Or no, something roused from a nap, stretched, moved its muscles, and appraised the situation.
I smiled at the man, a practiced smile I had worn like a mask for years. “Oh, sweetheart, how could you tell? I don’t think we have had the pleasure. I have standards.”
He turned red in the face and stomped toward me.
Which would have been perfectly fine, except the snot-nosed kid picked that exact moment to throw a snowball at the guy. The kid hit him directly in the face too, and I was honestly a little in awe of that.
So the guy turned to the kid and said, “You little shit. No one ever taught you not to mess with people?”
“You were in the process of complimenting me on my depraved ways. Leave the kid out of it,” I said.
His eyes snapped back to me, which was what I’d wanted.
Jenny jogged over as if she wanted to intervene. She was still scared though, and Laura was still hiding.
