need.â
âPfft. The only distraction I need is for that cash register to start opening and closing on account of it filling with cold hard cash.â
âYou could fix up those blond curls of yours, maybe paint your nails. You ainât got time to dilly-dally. Once the girls in town catch on, heâs gonna be snapped right up,â says CeeCee, clicking her fingers.
âThey can have him. I still love Joel.â
CeeCee shakes her head and mumbles to herself. âThatâs about the dumbest thing I ever heard. You know heâs moved on.â
I certainly do. Thereâs no one in this small town of ours that doesnât know. He sure as hell made a mockery of me. Childhood sweethearts, until twenty-three months, four days and, oh, five hours ago. Heâs made a mistake, and heâll come back, I just know it. Moneyâs what caused it, or lack thereof. Heâs gone, hightailed it out of town with some redheaded bimbo originally from Kentucky. Sheâs got more money than Donald Trump, and thatâs why if you ask me. We lost our house after his car yard went belly up, and I nearly lost my business.
âLookie here,â CeeCee says. âI think weâre about to get our first customer.â
The doorbell jangles, and in comes Walt, who sells furniture across the way.
âMorning, ladies.â He takes off his almost-threadbare earmuff hat. Iâve never seen Walt without the damn thing, but he wonât hear a word about it. Itâs his lucky hat, he says. Folks round here have all sorts of quirks like that.
âHey, Walt,â I say. âSure is snowing out there.â
âThat it is. Mulled-wine weather if you ask me.â
CeeCee washes her hands, and dries them on her apron. âWe donât have none of that, but I can fix you a steaming mug of gingerbread coffee, Walt. Surely will warm those hands oâ yours. Howâd you like that?â
âSounds mighty nice,â he says, edging closer to the fire. The logs crackle and spit, casting an orange glow over Waltâs ruddy face.
Chapter Two
CeeCee mixes molasses, ginger, and cinnamon and a dash of baking soda. She sets it aside while she pours freshly brewed coffee into a mug. âYou want cream and sugar, Walt?â
âWhy not?â Walt says amiably.
CeeCee adds the molasses mix to the coffee, and dollops fresh cream on top, sprinkling a dash of ground cloves to add a bit of spice. âMmm hmm, thatâs about the best-looking coffee I ever seen. Iâm going to have to make me one now.â
âSo, I guess Iâm stuffing these birds by myself?â I say, smiling.
âYou got that right.â She winks at me, and walks to the counter handing Walt the mug. He nods his thanks and drinks deeply, smacking his lips together after each gulp.
âWhat can I get for you?â CeeCee asks.
âJaney sent me in for a ham, and a turkey, not too big but not too little, neither.â He rubs his belly for emphasis.
âSure thing,â CeeCee says. âHowâs about one with Lilâs special stuffing? Janey wonât need to do a thing, âcept put it in the oven, and baste it a few times.â
âYeah? Then maybe weâll have a peaceful Christmas morning.â
âDoubt that,â CeeCee says. âIf she canât get all het up at her husband Christmas Day, it just ainât Christmas.â
âYou think?â Walt tilts his head, and smiles. âSo, you girls still busy, what with the new guy, anâ all?â
I look sharply at Walt. âWhat do you mean?â
âI heard heâs selling turkeys and hams, just like you.â
âSay what!â CeeCee says, barely audible with her head pushed deep into the chest fridge. All I see is her denim-clad rump poking out.
âWhat, you donât know?â Walt says and averts his eyes suddenly sheepish.
âBut I thought he was a small goods shop?â
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