Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“It’s not a shop, exactly,” says Samuel.
“Ah, you know what I mean. Hell, I even heard you set up the big Christmas tree, decorations and all! My mama’s gotta trust you down to your toenails to let you set up her tree!”
“Guess I’ve got some very trustworthy toenails,” says Samuel mildly, smiling.
That’s when Jimmy chooses to see me. “Oh. Malcolm …?”
I stare back. “Jimmy.”
His whole demeanor changes, as if his emotional landscape just got a white and frosty blanket of snow flung over it. As if I’ve done anything to warrant such a reaction except exist.
Yes, Jimmy. I continued existing after that night.
I’ve existed every day, every hour, every minute ever since.
I wasn’t just a chapter in your story ready for my pages to be flipped and forgotten forever.
I’m here.
“Of course,” says Jimmy, snapping out of it. “Your dad. Yeah. Of course you’re here.” He chuckles at himself. Those chuckles die quickly. “I just didn’t think—”
“Malcolm was gracious enough to be here and help out his father with all of the catering work,” Bobby cuts in with a polite smile my way. “Isn’t it amazing of him? Oh, and I already did the whole ‘wow, I haven’t seen you in years!’ thing. It’s been over three, by the way. Crazy, huh?”
“I know how long it’s been,” says Jimmy.
And that’s apparently all he cares to say.
Samuel throws an arm over my back, startling me. “Sorry, my boys, but Malcolm and I gotta head off to run a few quick errands for the mayor of Spruce,” he announces with comical dramatic flair. “I promise we’ll be back before the party really kicks off sometime after sundown. You won’t miss our pretty faces for too long.”
Bobby laughs.
Jimmy doesn’t.
“See you guys later!” calls out Samuel as he guides me toward the steps of the porch, waving at them. “Don’t have too much fun without us!”
As we head across the gravel, I walk in a total daze. I’m pretty sure Bobby and Jimmy are watching us, each of them just as baffled as the other, wondering when in the hell the oddball likes of me and the colorful Samuel became so damned chummy.
Except we’re not. “What in the ever-living hell was that?” I ask long after we’ve left the porch.
“If my read was right, figured you could use some help getting away from them.” He stops at a car—a dusty, bluish-gray sedan with a mismatched beige passenger side door. He has trouble, but finally manages to yank it open, then gestures inside, as if the guy is presenting a golden chariot. “Let’s get on outta here.”
I stop. “Wait. I never said—”
“Hey, I was the one Nadine was originally about to ask to grab what’s on that list. Besides, were you really planning to drive around town in your dad’s big, clunky catering van? Heck, did you even grab the keys before bolting?”
I open my mouth to speak, then realize Samuel’s right; I didn’t even think to get the keys from my dad.
He pats the top of the car with a victorious smile. “Let me be part of your escape plan. In the four walls of this adorable vehicle I call Mortimer, you don’t have to think about those guys gettin’ hitched. In fact, neither of us have to say a damned thing. How’s that sound?”
I stare at him—and this rundown vehicle in front of me—with an appalled expression I can’t hope to wipe off my weary face.
Until I realize the truth of it all and reply: “Perfect.”
Chapter 5
Spruce In Wintertime.
Downtown Spruce this time of year might as well be peeled straight off the cover of one of those cheesy Christmas romances my dad cries himself to sleep watching. Every storefront is dressed from roof to pavement in twinkling lights, fake snow, candy canes, Santa Clauses, wooden reindeer, oversized candy, and a countless array of other gaudy Christmastime décor. Even the streetlamps have twisting strings of colorful lights spiraling down their lengths, waiting to turn on after sundown.
We’re nearly finished with the list. The bulk of everything was found in the crafts store, which is quite fortunate considering the lack of options here in a small town like Spruce.
Despite my doubts, Samuel hasn’t been nearly as annoying as I thought he’d be. He hasn’t asked a single question about Jimmy or Bobby. He hasn’t nagged about why I’m so moody or quiet. In fact, I feel like he downright kept to himself as we perused the crafts store, having decided to “divide and conquer” the list.
At one point, our independent quests brought us to opposite sides of the same tall shelf. When I slid a clay pot out of the way, Samuel’s face was there on the other side, and our eyes met.
He smiled at me, tentative and sweet.
I stared back, trapped by his pretty eyes, and said nothing.