He kissed her back and touched her cheek. “Can I get a rain check? Can we have a real date—just the two of us?”
“I’d like that.”
She helped him bundle Austin in the sleeping bag, and tucked the flashlight and binoculars into the child’s backpack before walking Patrick back outside with his son slung over his shoulder.
“One more thing,” she called, as he started back across the street.
“What’s that?”
“Promise me, when we have our date, you’ll wear those cute red reindeer undies?”
He blushed, then winked. “It’s a deal.”
* * *
After Patrick and Austin were gone, Kerry walked all the way around the Christmas tree lot one last time. It was nearly midnight. She saw the lights blinking off at Lombardi’s, saw the last of the help straggling out the door and locking it behind them. Traffic was light, and the snow was still softly falling on the damp pavement of Hudson Street.
She took out her phone and called her brother.
“Yo,” Murphy said. He sounded as tired as she felt.
“Everything going okay?” she asked.
“Just super. Mom had to practically hogtie Dad to keep him from riding back with me. How’s it going there?”
“Pretty good. We’re down to less than half a dozen trees now. How far away are you?”
“Another couple hours at least. I’m gonna pull over in a truck stop pretty soon and get a couple hours’ sleep. I should be there by no later than five.”
“I’ll be here,” Kerry said. “Hey, Murph?”
“Yeah?”
“Drive safe, okay?”
“Always, little sister.”
Kerry disconnected the call. She pulled the bungee cord across the entrance and posted the CLOSED sign. Then she whistled for Queenie, who followed her back inside the trailer.
chapter 34
Kerry was floating somewhere beneath the sea, or maybe it was the clouds. She was dimly aware of muted sounds: low voices, thuds, footsteps. But she was beyond touch of the earth, floating free, relaxed. Time and space did not exist.
Until she was rudely yanked back to earth. The trailer door slammed, hard. She battled her way back to the surface. She sat up and blinked, shocked at the blinding sunlight streaming through the open door.
“You up?” Murphy held two cups of steaming coffee and now he handed her one.
“I am now.”
“About damn time.”
Kerry breathed in the coffee fumes. “When did you get here? And what time is it?”
Outside, rows of freshly cut Christmas trees were stacked up three deep.
“How did you unload all those trees by yourself? You should have woken me up.”
“I got one of the busboys over at Lombardi’s to help. We got the trees unloaded, then I took the trailer back to the yard in Brooklyn, dumped it, and headed back here. Didn’t want to wake you up, so I slept in the truck. And by the way, it’s nearly nine, and I’m dead on my feet.”
“Sorry,” Kerry said, grabbing for her clothes. “I’ve gotta get a shower at the Kaplans’。 I’ll be back in ten minutes. Okay?”
He collapsed onto his bunk. “Do not wake me when you get back.”
* * *
A fire was blazing away in the oil barrel when she returned to the tree stand, and her brother’s snores could be heard from the sidewalk.
Kerry worked her phone, calling all the customers who’d left orders for trees over the weekend, to let them know the new shipment had arrived. In between calls she managed to craft a few more wreaths, and even sold three trees to people from the neighborhood.
Shortly after noon, she stretched the bungee cord across the entrance to the tree stand and dashed over to Lombardi’s to place a to-go order.
Claudia bustled around the busy main room, chatting with regulars. She wore a tight-fitting green sweater adorned with silver-tinsel-draped Christmas trees.
She met Kerry at the bar. “Well, hey there. Haven’t seen you in a while. How’s business?”
“Like a roller coaster. Down, then up, up, up—so much so that we sold out of trees and Murphy had to make a run back to the farm to pick up another load. He just got back.”
“Yeah, he called to let me know when he was on his way down there,” Claudia said, tucking a wisp of blond hair into her updo.
Kerry did a double take. “He did?”
Claudia laughed at her shocked expression. “Don’t be so surprised. He knew I’d be pissed. We were supposed to go out Friday night.”
“My fault,” Kerry confessed. “I kinda guilt-tripped him into going back to the farm.”
“He did blame it on you. But we both know you can’t make Murphy Tolliver do something he doesn’t want to.”
The bartender arrived with Kerry’s order.
“What’d you get?” Claudia asked.
Kerry opened the bag and inhaled the scent of garlic, oregano, and tomatoes. “Your minestrone, and an order of garlic bread. Gotta have something warm in my belly today.”
“Good choice,” Claudia said.
“Anyway, I’m sorry I ruined your weekend plans,” Kerry said.
“He’s got one more chance to make things right,” Claudia confided. “No more grabbing a late dinner here at the bar after we close the place down. I told your brother he’s gotta make real plans. I want to dress up and go out on the town on an honest-to-God date.”
“Good for you.” Kerry glanced out the restaurant’s plate-glass window and saw a young couple stopped in front of the Tolliver Family Farm stand.
“Oops. Gotta go sell some trees now. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure Murphy knows I’ll cover for him this weekend so you two can have a fun night out.”
* * *
The couple spent forty-five minutes agonizing over whether a five-foot or six-foot tree would have the most impact in their high-ceilinged loft. “Get the six-footer,” Kerry urged.
She gave them one of Jock’s favorite lines. “If it’s too tall you can always cut off a few inches—but I can’t make it grow any taller.” The woman laughed and her husband handed over the cash.
Customers arrived at a steady pace throughout the afternoon, picking up trees they’d reserved over the weekend, or choosing a tree for delivery, and she was relieved when Vic arrived on his bike, primed to start work.
“Man,” he said, looking around at the replenished stand. “How are we gonna sell all these trees before Christmas?”
“Check the tags,” Kerry said. “A lot of these are already paid for. And I’ve got an idea for a little promotion you can help me with, as soon as you come back from your delivery rounds.”
She was jotting down her shopping list when Austin came skipping into the stand, followed by his father.
Austin was bundled up against the cold and cradling a book against his chest.
“Is that a book you’re reading for school?” Kerry asked, after greeting the pair.
He grinned and shook his head. “Nope. Dad bought it for me at the bookstore. See?”
He thrust the book into her hands. “It’s all about dragons.”
The picture book was called Dragons Love Tacos, and Kerry smiled too, as she leafed through the pages with their whimsical illustrations and story of a taco-loving dragon who accidentally ingests an especially fiery salsa.