Bright Lights, Big Christmas(36)

She looked around, at the square, with the pigeons pecking at the bread crumbs left by the elderly woman who tottered out to the park on her walker every morning with a sleeve of stale crackers, at the now-familiar businesses and their owners, who’d quickly become like family, and the neighbors walking their dogs along the sidewalk—she knew all their names and their dogs’ names too. She thought about her visits with Heinz, and his tactless, but spot-on critiques of her art. Mostly though, she thought about Austin, and their unfinished story, and about Austin’s father, Patrick.

“Can we get more trees?”

“You want me to cab over to Central Park and chop some down?” he asked.

“I mean, do we have any more trees back on the farm?”

Murphy tugged at his beard. “I’m not sure. Dad always holds back a certain number to sell at the roadside stand, and to a couple guys over in Asheville for their stands.”

“Maybe you should call him and ask,” Kerry suggested. “Or how about the Joyners, or the Fletchers? Maybe they’ve got some extra Christmas trees they’d be willing to sell us?”

“Even if they still had some to sell, how would we get them up here? Those guys aren’t gonna drop everything and truck a couple hundred trees up here at the drop of a hat.”

“Could you drive down and pick them up?” she asked.

“And who’d run the stand while I was gone?”

“Me,” she said. “Vic can help. We’ll pay him a regular hourly salary. And maybe he can enlist a buddy. It would just be until you get back.”

“Ten hours’ drive down to the mountains and then back? Not to mention the time it’ll take to load the trees? And who knows if I could even get trees at this late date.”

“But what if you can? If business keeps up like this, think of what it could mean for Dad and the farm. It would put you in the black and then some. And maybe, just maybe, it would show Dad you actually do have some expertise in the business. Will you at least think about it?”

“Maybe.” He disappeared into the trailer.





chapter 27





The next wave of customers materialized fifteen minutes later. Another dozen chattering, hyper women with an apparently endless number of questions, and requests.

“Do you deliver to Queens?”

“Can you get me this exact shape tree, but flocked?”

When Vic returned from his deliveries, she put him in charge of writing receipts and taking down orders for deliveries—half a dozen—and three tree-lighting gigs.

“Wait till I tell Murphy,” she said under her breath as she made change and processed credit cards.

At one point, when she had four people in line waiting to make their purchases, she happened to glance across the street. She noted that the Brody brothers were standing on the sidewalk, scowling at her. She gave them a triumphant finger wave.

“Um, Miss Kerry, ma’am?” It was Vic. He looked as tired as she felt. “Sorry, but I really gotta get home now. My mom’s been calling to ask where I am.”

“Oh, gosh, Vic. I’m sorry. I don’t know what we would have done without you today.”

He smiled a toothy grin, and began pulling fives, tens, and twenties from his jacket pockets. “Today was awesome! I bet I made over two hundred dollars, easy.”

“You earned it. Let me ask you something. There’s a chance Murphy might need to drive home and pick up another load of trees. If so, would you be able to help out full time?”

“Maybe,” he said. “Can I let you know in the morning?”

“Of course.” She patted him on the back.

For the first time that day, Kerry was alone. She slipped inside the trailer, which was rattling with her brother’s snoring. It was nearly six, but she didn’t have the heart to awaken him. Instead, she donned her warmest down jacket and returned to her post just as Patrick and Austin appeared. Patrick wore a sport coat under his jacket and she saw that Austin was wearing a snappy red bow tie.

“Kerry,” Austin called. “Are you ready for our date?”

She gasped. “Oh my gosh. We’ve been so busy, I totally lost track of time.”

“I’ve been texting you,” Patrick said gently. “I thought maybe we should come over and make sure you were still available. But if you’re too busy…”

She pulled her phone from her pocket and spotted three texts from him.

“I’ve been looking forward to tonight all week, but we’ve been absolutely crushed with business all day. I never even saw any of your texts.” She gestured around at the stand, which was looking notably emptier than it had been eight hours earlier.

“Wow,” Patrick said. “You must have sold a bunch of trees today. What happened?”

“AshleyActually posted a story on her Instagram feed and the masses descended. I actually had women fighting over trees.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Depends on how you look at it. Murphy says we might totally sell out of trees this weekend. And if that happens, he says we pack up and go home.”

“Home?” Austin yelped. “What about our story?”

“Hang on, pal,” Patrick said, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Is it possible to buy more trees somewhere?”