Page 27 of Never Kiss a Krampus
“Different how?” I followed his gaze but didn’t see anything different, at least not at first. But then I began to notice some subtle changes. Someone had tied red ribbon bows to the bedraggled garlands, making them look more festive. The café’s sidewalk sign had been redecorated with a fresh Christmas wreath, and there were a few more people on the sidewalk than usual.
“People are… lingering,” he added. “Not just rushing from car to door.”
“They’re curious.”
“No,” he said, turning to me. “It is more than that. There is a… stirring. A shift in energy. My presence yesterday. The activity in your shop. It created ripples.”
“Ripples of what?”
“Hope,” he said, as if it were a distasteful concept. “It is a dangerous emotion. It can lead to ruin as easily as it can lead to salvation.”
He was right. People were drawn to novelty, to a spectacle. The novelty would wear off. And then what?
My phone buzzed. A text from the holiday market committee.
Subject: URGENT! Meeting moved to 5:30. Don’t be late!
I sighed. The committee was a group of well-meaning but perpetually disorganized volunteers who managed to turn even the simplest task into a three-hour debate.
“I have a meeting tonight,” I told him. “The holiday market committee. We’re supposed to be finalizing plans for the Christmas parade. I’m also going to present my idea for a Good Deeds Extravaganza.”
“I know.”Of course he does. “I’m not convinced it will be the saving grace you believe, but…” His gaze returned to the street. “But perhaps I have not given your generosity enough credit.”
“Does that mean I won’t require any lessons?” I asked hopefully, and he actually smiled. A wide smile that showed a lot of disturbing white sharp teeth, but a smile nonetheless. For a terrifying, ancient being of punishment and judgement, he had an expressive face and an even more expressive tail. I’d noticed that when he was contemplative or listening it would swish, almost like a cat’s. And when he was irritated it gave a sharp twitch.
He turned away from the window to face me. “I’m not convinced the town’s economy, or their Christmas spirit, will be saved by a Good Deeds event. But… we will try your way. For now.”
I felt a surprising surge of affection at that. He wasn’t just blindly following a predetermined script. He was willing to adjust his own long-held beliefs based on what he was seeing. This was not a creature of unyielding, rigid judgement. This was… something else.
“However,” he continued, “before you go, you will have your second lesson.”
“Second?” I squeaked.
“A lesson regarding your shop. We begin today.”
“But I have a meeting.”
“The meeting is at five-thirty. It is not yet nine. There is ample time for your lesson.”
CHAPTER 11
Telling myself I wasn’t nervous, I followed Bastian downstairs. He led me through the shop and straight to the main Christmas tree. The one that had started this whole mess with its dying strands of lights.
In the unexpected rush of the previous day, I hadn’t had time to fix it and in the morning light, it looked even sadder than before. In addition to the dead strands of lights, some of the ornaments were missing, and the tree itself tilted slightly to the left, held in place by sheer stubbornness and wire.
“This is inadequate,” he said.
“Tell me about it.”
“It does not honor the season.”
“I know.”
He turned to look at me, his amber eyes thoughtful. “The tree should be the centerpiece. The heart of the shop. Currently, it is… depressing.”
“Wow. Don’t hold back.”
“If we are hoping to restore the Christmas spirit, this tree does not help. It is sad.”
