Vic’s easygoing expression darkened in an instant, his spine straightening, his eyes narrowing. “Do you think they’re armed?”
“What? No! I mean, just watch they don’t try any funny business—like trying to steal our customers.”
Kerry scribbled her cell phone number on a slip of paper and handed it to him. “Call me if you have any questions.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He did everything but snap a salute.
* * *
The hundred-dollar tip from Susannah emboldened Kerry to spend a little more freely at the flower market. She added rolls of wide red wired ribbon, and on impulse, a case of battery-operated twinkle lights. Then she popped into a nearby deli for breakfast: a bagel for her and a bacon, egg, and cheese roll for Vic.
He was bustling around the tree stand when she got back. “I sold two trees,” he said excitedly. “But I told them I couldn’t deliver until you returned.”
“That’s great,” she said, handing him a white paper bag. “I brought you a bacon, egg, and cheese roll.”
“Oh man, I mean, ma’am. Thanks. I didn’t have time to grab breakfast at home.”
He demolished the sandwich and washed it down with an energy drink. “What now?”
“You can deliver those trees if you want. I’m gonna get busy making wreaths, but when you get back I’ve got a little project you could help with.”
Vic loaded the trees onto his wagon and happily pedaled off in search of tips.
* * *
As she’d predicted, business was slow, so she concentrated on wreath making. By the time Vic returned from his deliveries she was putting the finishing touches on two enormous wreaths, fastening both with bright red bows.
“Okay,” Vic said, warming his hands over the fire. “Ready for my next assignment.”
“There’s a stepladder in the truck,” she said, handing him the keys. “You can help me hang these wreaths, and then we’ll be stringing lights. Lots and lots of lights.”
While Vic was hammering nails to the uprights supporting the Tolliver Family Tree Farm sign, Kerry opened the boxes of twinkle lights, loaded them with batteries, and tested the tiny plastic remote controls.
“All done,” Vic reported.
She pointed at the pile of lights on the worktable. “Okay. We’re gonna string these lights on the big trees at the corners of the stand.”
He took the first string and awkwardly looped it around the middle of the tree, like tightening a belt around a chubby toddler.
“Not like that,” she said, sighing. Kerry picked up a string of lights and knelt at the base of the first tree. “Start at the bottom. Shove the strand toward the trunk, and then wind it around the branch two or three times. Like so. Then, move around the tree, and start another row, maybe six inches up.”
* * *
After lunch Kerry wrapped the remaining strands of lights around the Tolliver sign. She was standing back admiring her handiwork when two women paused at the entry to the stand.
The older woman was expensively dressed and carrying a designer shopping tote, and the younger one was pushing a stroller with a drowsy toddler.
“Look at this big tree, Holly. I love how many lights are on it. And the shape is beautiful.”
“You should get this one, Mom.”
“Remember how your dad used to do the lights on our tree every year? He was so particular about it, fussed over it for hours. And I was strictly forbidden from going anywhere near it until he was done.” She looked wistful at the memory.
“My mom has always been the same way,” Kerry confided. “She’s the one who taught me to string the lights this way.”
The younger woman tugged at her mother’s sleeve. “Mom, you should see if she”—nodding at Kerry—“would hang the lights on your tree.”
“Do you do that sort of thing?” the mother asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” As of now, Kerry thought.
“Can I ask what you charge?”
Kerry thought quickly. “Seventy-five dollars an hour, with a two-hour minimum.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” the mother murmured. “It seems like such an extravagance.”
“Mom, you didn’t even have a tree last year, because you said thinking about it stressed you out too much. And I know it made you sad,” Holly said.
“Well … I really didn’t think I’d miss having a tree, but it’s true. It just didn’t seem like the holidays last year. It didn’t seem right.”
“Okay,” Holly said. “We’ll hire … What’s your name?”
“Kerry Tolliver.”
“Right. We’ll hire Kerry to deliver your tree, set it up, and decorate it.”
Kerry gestured toward the wreaths she’d been making. “Would you want a wreath too? They’re seventy-five for the small ones, a hundred dollars for the large.”
“Yes, she would. A large one for her, and one for me. Come to think of it, could you do the same for me? Deliver, set up, and decorate?”
“If you’re in the neighborhood, I could come tomorrow, after five.”
“That’s perfect,” the mother said. She reached into her pocketbook and brought out a slim leather card case. She extracted a card and handed it to Kerry.
“I’m Adele, and this is my address.”
“I live one floor above Mom,” Holly said. “Oh, and why don’t you just plan to bring us all new sets of lights, like the ones you have here. No telling what kind of shape ours are in. I get anxiety just thinking about untangling that mess.”
chapter 22
“Kerry?”
It was Tuesday. Kerry looked up to see a harried-looking Gretchen McCaleb, standing at the entrance to the tree stand. She wore a black cashmere coat, fur-trimmed boots, and demure pearl earrings, and her hand rested lightly on her son’s shoulder.
“Oh, hi, Gretchen. Hi, Austin. Did you change your mind about getting a Christmas tree?”
“Heavens, no. Look, I’m in a terrible bind. I have an important meeting outside the city this morning, but the school has one of those stupid in-service days today, and my babysitter canceled. I can’t reach Pat. I realize it’s a terrible imposition, but Austin is so fond of you…”
“I’d love for Austin to hang around with me and Queenie today,” Kerry said quickly. “I could use the extra help.”
“See, Mom?” Austin said, beaming. “I told you they needed me here.”
“All right then,” Gretchen said, consulting a slim gold watch on her wrist. “I’ve got a car picking me up in ten minutes.” She reached into her tote and thrust a quilted red Spider-Man lunch box at Kerry. “Here’s his lunch, and some fruit for a snack. No telling how long my meeting will be. Hopefully, his father can come this afternoon and…”
A black town car glided to the curb and the driver blinked the headlights. “Oh no. He’s early. I really do have to go.”
She leaned down and kissed the top of her son’s head. “Bye, love.”
* * *
Kerry and Austin looked at each other. She liked kids and was certainly fond of this particular kid, but she’d never actually been in charge of a small human before. Unlike most teenagers, she’d never done any babysitting, and most of her friends back in North Carolina were either single or still childless.