Page 8 of Bed of Roses

“I didn’t say people were unhappy. I said you broke the rules.”

“Oh, come on, we have twelve people we are awarding prizes to. I think since we’re there all day on Saturdays it only makes sense that we get to name winners each of those Saturdays. That leaves eight others that we can pick randomly via text.”

Drew pulled a folder from one of the organizers on his desk, pushed it open and began looking over whatever its content was. I didn’t know if that was a signal for me to stop talking or not, but since I figured he was a man capable of multitasking I kept going, despite the constant pinch to my thigh from my cohost turned babysitter.

“The young lady Winnie has working with her at the costume shop is having a shit time of things right now. Her car broke down in the middle of the street on Friday night, gumming up traffic. Karl’s mechanic shop is a regular advertiser on this station, I didn’t think there was any harm in throwing some business his way while also helping out that young lady. From where I sit it’s a win all around.”

Drew made a hmph-ing sound that seemed positive. Raven and I exchanged looks and held our breaths while Drew finished reading whatever was in front of him.

“I’m looking over the contest rules, and it doesn’t specifyhowwe announce the winners, just that we will select twelve winners and grant them a Christmas wish. So, you may just be the luckiest SOB in this state right now, Ted. To make this a true Holiday Elf experience, you’ll need to also take her out for dinner at The Cottage and give her these four tickets to Santa’s Workshop.”

I could see Raven out of the corner of my eye, a shit eating grin on her face, examining her fingernail polish as if this entire conversation is too boring for her to deign paying attention. She was such a little faker. Internally, I knew she was eating this up like all you could eat crab legs at the casino buffet.

“Look I was just trying to do a nice thing here. I thought she’d get a few hundred bucks so she could fix her car. How am I part of that equation? Dinner? What’s next take her Christmas shopping? “

Drew already had his desk phone cradled on his shoulder as he dialed a number from memory. He had decided our conversation was over, but I was not. Not until it ended in him rolling back his papal decree that suddenly my social life was tied at the neck with this station and its’ ridiculous holiday promotion. I didn’t win. The showdown between Drew and Me, I did not come out the victor. Which was why I was presently dialing the Dashing Haberdashery in hopes I would catch Marley.

6

After being humiliated on Saturday night thanks to that radio guy Bear, Sunday turned out to be a much better day. My friend Bernie was over the moon with the response she got from the cookies. Out of towners had flocked to the Inn to get some of her gingerbread, which meant she called in an SOS and asked me to come help her bake extra batches for people stopping in looking for more to buy. Karl called me to arrange a time to fix my car, and he assured me that whatever was wrong with my car, even if unrelated to the break down, he was authorized to fix. Which is great because the list of insignificant things I put off “until I could afford to fix them” is a little bit longer than it should be. My little Suzie Subaru would be back to a full bill of health in no time. Technically, she had been my Mom’s Subaru, but it was way newer than my shitty little Corolla had been, so it is mine now.

Work had been pretty slow which was wonderful because I could catch up on my side hustle, making holiday crafts for my Etsy shop.

“It’s a delightful day at the Dashing Haberdashery, this is Marley, how can I make your day?”

I can’t remember the last time anyone actually called our phone line. Usually people just came in with their orders, questions, or requests. The only people who call are out of towners who find us on the internet.

“Ah! Ms. Jacobs exactly the person I hoped to speak with!”

The man on the line almost sounded like a bill collector, and it took me a minute to run through my mom’s medical bills to remember if I had paid them all this month.

“Who is this?” I tried to sound as chipper and polite as I could, just in case it was one of the locals looking to pick up an order.

“You don’t recognize my voice? Gosh, I’m a little sad about that. After all, I am in high demand because of my front man for a rock band appeal.”

It couldn’t be? What on earth would he be calling me for? Especially after I had called him a…

“Nothing yet? Well, this is Bear Tucker, but I think you know me better as ‘arrogant, self-involved ego maniac’.”

“Oh. Um, hi?” Part of me wanted to apologize for that little tantrum. I probably should have given myself some time to process away the shock of being pulled on stage in front of all of those people and not flown off the handle at him.

“So, it looks like I didn’t inform you of all the prizes that you win in conjunction with having your car fixed. You also get dinner at the Cottage and four tickets to Santa’s Workshop.”

“Oh. That’s cool. Thanks for letting me know. Do you, like, need my address or something to mail the tickets?”

Strange that they’d have him calling me for that information.

“Yeah. Not quite.”

There was a long pause. So much so that I thought he’d hung up on me.

“You see. There is kind of a little catch to the dinner. You are supposed to have dinner with me.”

If I had been drinking coffee it would have landed all over my freshly painted ornaments. Dinner with Bear Tucker? I was at a loss for what to say. Did Iwantto have dinner with him? On the one hand it could be terribly uncomfortable full of weird awkward silence. But on the other, I did still feel a little bad for Saturday, and it was a free dinner—awkward and uncomfortable or not. Plus, he was pretty easy on the eyes, and I can’t remember the last time I had been on any kind ofanythingwith a man—it was definitely before my Mom got sick. Possibly when I was still in college. It would be a nice built in excuse to wear a dress, curl my hair, and generally feel like a woman, and not just Marley the town orphan.

“I see. Um, when?”

“Oh, ahh, I didn’t expect you to accept so quickly. So—how about Thursday? I’m not working Friday, to make up for suffering through Carol the Square all day Saturday. It might be your best chance to have a sort of a normal human being as your date. I’ll even be able to stay awake past eight o’clock.”

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