Page 2 of Caught in a Christmas Conundrum

I walk the hallway to the window in the back, turn around, and walk the entire way to the front of the store.

I stop and stare out the storefront windows. We don’t really have a store, although there is a small counter, and people can come in and place orders for catering in person. Every once a while, we have a day of takeout. Last year, when I didn’t have either festival booked, my grand opening was just having people come and get takeout on the festival day. So far, that was my biggest money day. We are set to overtake it this year, and if we do both festivals, we’ll easily triple it or more.

My eyes catch on a man walking down the street. He has on a black barbecue apron, and I don’t need to see his face to know that it’s Lucas Nearhoof. I also don’t need to see the apron to recognize it’s the one that says,last time I cooked, hardly anyone got sick.

Phyllis must have laid eyes on him about the same time I did. “You could ask Lucas to help.”

“No way. I would rather cancel first,” I say, but in my heart of hearts, I know I’m not going to cancel, and I’ll do anything. Even ask Lucas Nearhoof to help.

I brush my hands down my own apron. I’m wearing one that says,your opinion wasn’t in the recipe.

Our aprons aren’t the only things we compete with. He has won the Christmas Tree Christmas barbecue contest for the last five years.

I won it six years ago, and I’ve come in second place ever since.

It’s a bit of a sore subject for me.

“You need to put your rivalry aside, or you might lose one of the festivals,” Phyllis says, pulling her lip into her mouth and biting down on it.

“He’s a barbecue guy. I am a caterer. I don’t do barbecue. We do good food,” I remind her, and maybe I’m a little bit harsh as I speak. But Phyllis knows if my words come out hard, it’s because of the rivalry between Lucas and me. Maybe it’s also because of my hard feelings about him winning for the last five years. After all, I might not do barbecue every day, but mine is pretty stinking good, if I do say so myself. I think he cheats.

“All right. That’s fine. You want me to call Mrs. Brown and tell her that we can’t do one of the festivals?” Phyllis asks, moving from the window as I deliberately turn my back on Lucas.

I sigh. “No. Let me think about this for a moment.” I do some calculations in my head. I can go shopping today, I can get the ingredients, and Phyllis and I can work on making all the preparations we can. I assume that the menus are the same for both festivals, since there was never any discrepancy there. I can go back and make sure, but… I think it’s doable.

I’ll just need Lucas to share his cooler space and to do a little cooking on Saturday. I don’t have enough room to store everything, and I can’t cook it all either. Plus, he’ll need to use some of his people to deliver the food. We can probably stagger the delivery times; one is scheduled to be at 12:30, so we could have some ready at 11:30 for the Christmas Tree Christmasfestival and deliver the other at 12:15. I don’t think those times will mess anything up too much.

The problem is, I’m going to have to go talk to Lucas, and I’ve made a point of not talking to Lucas for the last five years. Ever since he beat me the first time at the Christmas Tree Christmas barbecue contest.

“You can do it,” Phyllis says softly, patting me gently on the shoulder. I barely feel it.

“Let me put on a clean apron,” I say, lifting my chin and pushing my shoulders back. “Then I’ll talk to my nemesis. We’ll see if we can salvage this thing.”

two

. . .

Lucas

I throwthe last brisket in the cooler and untie my dirty, bloodied apron.

When I cook, I don’t mind having a dirty apron, but I don’t like to have a bloodied one. It’s just better to be safe than get people sick, even though I joke about it on my favorite apron.

I grab another one from the closet and think about my financial situation. I had been hoping to cater one of the two festivals this year, but it seems that Kate got them both.

I smile a little as I think about Kate, tying my apron in the back. This apron says,everybody deserves a good rub, and it has a picture of a pig on it.

Kate and I have become a little famous for apron wars, and I’ve enjoyed them, I have to admit.

Although, it would be nicer if we could work together instead of constantly being at each other’s throats. I understand that she won the first-ever Christmas Tree Christmas barbecue contest, and she’s been mad at me ever since I beat her the next year, and every year since. I think it’s been three or four years, maybe five, I don’t know. I don’t really keep track. I just know that I seem to have a knack for barbecue, and I love doing it. So why not, right?

Since I’m not catering anything, I plan to have brisket, and lots of it, available for purchase for the festivals.

I’m thinking about that, and the sides I’m going to serve with it, when the door jangles, and someone approaches the counter.

I suppose I think about Kate a lot, not just because of our rivalry, but she’s very good at what she does, and I admire her. I admire her as a person as well, and I hope the feeling is mutual, although she acts like she hates me. Maybe she does. Regardless, I was not expecting to see Kate in the flesh in my store.

Without even thinking about it, my eyes fall to her apron. It says,it’s easier to kidnap skinny people. Eat cupcakes.

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