“Good girl,” Heinz said. He looked around the stand.
“Where is our young friend today?”
“It’s his mom’s week to stay with him, so I sort of doubt he’ll be hanging out here.”
She leaned in and lowered her voice. “I don’t think Gretchen approves of me.”
“Gretchen? The brunette?” He snorted. “She crosses the street when she sees me. Like I have something contagious. I don’t think she approves of me, either. So, you are in good company. And that reminds me. I don’t believe I know your name, young lady.”
“I’m Kerry,” she said, smiling. “Kerry Tolliver.”
chapter 20
Kerry had just sold a tree to the Moodys, a middle-aged couple whom she’d met the night before at the Christmas party, when Murphy came limping into the stand with his dobro tucked under his arm.
He wore only one shoe. His hair was wild, he was bleary-eyed, and his shirt was untucked and half unbuttoned.
“Hey, Debra, hey, Dale,” he said, giving a half-hearted nod to the customers.
“Morning, Murphy,” Debra Moody said. “We sure enjoyed your music last night.” Murphy gave a wan smile in return, then he slumped down onto his chair and sighed.
“Jesus, Murphy,” Kerry said after the Moodys walked away, “what happened? You look like you got hit by a truck. Or mugged. Or both.”
“I feel like I got hit by a truck full of muggers,” he moaned, massaging his forehead.
“I mean, it’s none of my business, but what did you and Claudia get up to last night?”
“Me and Claudia?” He opened one bloodshot eye. “Nothing. I wasn’t with her.”
“But I thought … the way you two were cuddling in the corner…”
“Nah. Get your mind out of the gutter, Kerry. I walked her back to her place, then I headed over to Augie’s Pub to play darts. Some guys I know turned up, and they begged me to play my dobro … and pretty soon it was after three, and I didn’t want to wake you up, so I just spent the night there.”
“In a bar?” She leaned over and sniffed her brother. He did indeed smell like beer. And barf.
“Well, on a couch down in the basement.” He shivered. “Kinda cold, ain’t it?”
“I guess so. What happened to your jacket? And your other shoe?”
“Damned if I know.”
Kerry tried to tamp down her mounting annoyance. She pointed at the stack of Christmas trees with SOLD tags attached. “You’ve got a bunch of deliveries to make. And I promised everyone they’d get their trees today.”
Murphy wiped his nose on the sleeve of his borrowed shirt. “I got it covered.” He looked up and nodded. “Here comes my helper now.”
A kid coasted toward them in the bike lane on a bright yellow twelve-speed bike. He had a wagon rigged to the back of the bike, and an eager smile.
“Hey, Murph!” the kid said as he braked. “Reporting for duty!”
“Vic, this is my sister Kerry. She’s helping me out this year.”
“Hello, ma’am,” the kid said, doing a stiff bow at the waist.
“Vic just got home from boarding school yesterday,” Murphy explained. “He’s gonna be delivering trees and doing whatever else we need for the next couple weeks.”
“Like an internship,” Vic said eagerly. He was maybe fourteen, at that loose-limbed gangly phase boys went through. He had white-blond hair cut short to the scalp, and just the slightest shadow of what might someday be a beard.
Kerry turned to her brother. “We need to talk.”
“Okay.”
“Alone.”
Murphy scratched his beard and groaned. “Hey, Vic, why don’t you start loading one of those trees there on your wagon. Okay, sport?”
While they were alone, Kerry unloaded on her brother.
“I can’t believe you have the nerve to show up here half dead and hungover. You said it’s our busiest day—and I’ve been working here all by myself. Also, I was worried about you. You couldn’t have called?”
Her brother blinked and dug in his pocket, bringing out his cell phone. “Sorry. It’s dead.”
“Figures,” she said. “Mom called me and woke me up at seven this morning. I had to lie to cover up for you.”
“What’d Mom want?”
“She wants to talk to you. I think she’s being deliberately evasive.”
“About what?”
“What else? Dad’s health.”
“Did you ask her how he’s feeling?”
“She says he’s okay, but I think she just doesn’t want me to worry about him.”
“Then don’t,” Murphy said. “They’re adults, Kerry. They can take care of themselves. Now, if there’s nothing else, I gotta get some sleep.”
“What about the kid?” she demanded. “We can’t afford to pay a helper, especially since our sales are off.” She pointed at the Brodys’ bustling stand. “They’re killing us.”
“Relax. We’re not paying Vic. He works for tips.” He massaged his temples again.
“You get tips?” Kerry had wondered why Murphy never complained about all the deliveries he had to make, and now she knew.
“Of course. This is New York City. Nobody works for free.”
“Like, how much?”
“Ground-floor apartment, around ten bucks. Unless it’s a rich old lady. They’re usually the cheapest. They open their wallets and moths fly out. If I gotta carry the tree up a couple flights of stairs, maybe twenty. The higher the floor, the higher the tip.”
“Susannah said you set up both her trees when you got to her apartment. She was very grateful.”
“Very, very grateful. She gave me fifty bucks, even though there’s an elevator in her building.”
Kerry decided not to mention the hundred-dollar tip she’d received for her custom-made wreath.
chapter 21
Vic arrived at the Tolliver Tree Farm stand on Monday, promptly at eight o’clock—or “oh eight hundred” as he called it. He was neat and clean and cheerful, and Kerry was none of these things. The day was cold and gray, like her mood.
Kerry had already fed Queenie. “I’m going to the flower market to pick up some supplies. I should be back in an hour or so, but if I’m not back by nine, go ahead and open up the stand. I don’t expect we’ll have much business on a Monday morning, but hopefully I’m wrong. The trees are all priced.” She pulled the cashbox from beneath the work table and unlocked it.
“There’s enough cash in here to make change. No checks, and no credit cards though.”
“Understood, ma’am. Cash only.”
Kerry had to smile at his enthusiasm. “Anybody has any questions, call me. Do not, unless your hair is on fire, wake up Murphy. He’s kind of a bear in the mornings.”
“Yes, ma’am. What else can I do?”
“You could walk Queenie a little bit, but don’t venture too far, just to the end of the block and back.”
She cast a wary eye at the now-deserted Brody brothers’ tree stand.
“Watch out for those two dudes across the street,” she advised.