Bright Lights, Big Christmas(20)

chapter 13





By the time Kerry emerged from the flea market it had started to sleet. Buses and cars and cabs whizzed by as she frantically waved from the curb, trying to hail a cab. Finally, she stepped into the street, the way she’d seen it done in the movies, jumping in front of a cab as it slowed for the traffic light, then ran around and got in the back seat.

“Hey!” The driver turned an outraged face to her. “I’m off duty.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Friggin’ tourists.”

Kerry backed out of the cab and it sped away.

She tried calling her brother, but the calls went directly to voice mail. She walked two more miserable blocks, sleet pelting her face and bare head, before finally managing to flag down a cab. She called again, her fingers stiff from the cold.

“Murphy! You’ve got to get back to the stand. A cop showed up and says we’re parked there illegally. He called a tow truck. I’m on my way there now, but I don’t know what I’ll do when I get there.”

Traffic was slow and Kerry peered anxiously over the cabdriver’s shoulder. “Isn’t there a shortcut you can take?”

The cabbie didn’t turn his head.

Ten agonizing minutes passed before they arrived at Abingdon Square. She shoved some bills in the cash slot in the partition and jumped out of the cab.

A small crowd had gathered around the tree stand, where a tow truck was parked in front of the trailer. A heavyset man in a bright yellow rain slicker stood on the sidewalk, engaged in what looked like a heated conversation with her brother.

Utilizing her new big-city skills, Kerry managed to elbow her way through the onlookers.

“Murph?”

Her brother turned and glared. “Where you been?”

Kerry felt her face redden. “I went to the flower market. A customer—she bought nearly fifteen hundred dollars’ worth of trees—wants a wreath for her party tomorrow, and I was out of materials.”

“Never mind,” he said curtly. He put his hand on the tow truck driver’s sleeve. “Do we have an understanding?”

The driver stomped back to the tow truck, revved the engine, and slowly pulled away from the square.

People began to drift away. But Patrick and Austin stood their ground.

“Sorry,” Patrick said. “That cop must be new on the beat. I’ve never known the police to mess with your family before.”

Kerry watched as Murphy loaded two trees onto the wagon he’d rigged to trail behind his bike. “My brother told me we’ve always had an understanding with the cops in this neighborhood. I wonder what changed?”

Murphy walked back to where she stood. His face was tight with barely controlled anger. She’d never seen her even-tempered brother like this.

“Kerry? You think you can maybe manage to stay here and do your job while I go deliver these trees? Maybe I should hire Austin, here, to take your place?”

Austin was wide-eyed, sensing the tension between the siblings.

“It’s okay, bud,” she told the little boy, patting his shoulder.

“We’re, uh, gonna go grab some lunch,” Patrick said. “You’re coming to the party tonight, right?”

“We’ll see,” Kerry said.



* * *



Kerry hurried into Lombardi’s at three to use their restroom. Claudia offered her a cup of espresso.

“Only if you can make it to go,” Kerry said. “I’m already on my brother’s shit list.”

Claudia rolled her eyes, but fetched a cardboard cup and drew her a cup of the inky black espresso.

“I’ll see you at the party tonight, right?” Claudia asked.

“Not sure. I found a jacket at a flea market this morning, but it’s kind of wrinkly and stinky. And I don’t have anything to wear with it. Plus, Murphy’s in a real mood.”

Claudia followed her outside the restaurant. “You leave your brother to me. And in the meantime, why don’t you give me that jacket? I’ve got a little hand steamer upstairs in my apartment that works miracles.”





chapter 14





The sleet had finally slacked off, but now the sky was darkening and the temperature had dropped another ten degrees while Kerry finished up her wreaths.

She was searching for the gloves she’d removed while crafting when she heard the trailer door open and saw Murphy step out, stretching and yawning like a grizzly bear after a long winter nap. She felt herself involuntarily flinch as he approached her work station.

“How’d we do today?” he asked, slumping down into his lawn chair. “How many trees?”

She consulted her steno pad, where she’d made hash marks for every tree sold.

“Eighteen trees. Not bad, right?”

“Not good,” he said, shaking his head. He lifted one hip and extracted a small notebook from his pocket. He leafed through well-thumbed pages of what looked like handwritten hieroglyphics and muttered under his breath.

“What?”

He ran an index finger down the page he’d opened the notebook to. “We’re way behind. Last year, by now, we’d sold thirty-two trees.”

Kerry craned her neck to get a look at the page, but the scratchings were illegible.