Page 20 of Christmas Candy

She giggles and takes off down the hall toward the front of the studio. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Why you little bi—”

“Hey, what’s wrong with Hank’s shop?” She’d made it to the front windows and was staring across the street.

“Don’t try to distract me.”

“No, seriously, the lights are out and it’s only six o’clock.”

I walk up beside her and see that she’s right. His sign is dark, and I don’t see anyone inside.

“Weird.” She cocks her head. “Especially since he’s usually busy around this time. I saw Will over there earlier. I wonder if—”

“Shit! Will Shurtz?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

I wring my hands. “Oh no, oh no.”

Candace turns to me and crosses her arms over her chest. “What did you do?”

“A few days ago, before Hank and I . . . Anyway, I went to his shop and saw he had an open burner behind the counter, so I—”

“You didn’t.” Her face falls.

“I did.” I put a hand to my throat. “But it was before. I forgot all about it. Shit, shit, shit!” I feel like the floor is sinking beneath me.

“Here.” She walks to her coat hanging by the door and fishes out her cell. “Let me get Will on the phone.” She swipes through her contacts, hits the button, and puts it on speaker.

“Candace?”

“Hey Will.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Don’t get fresh with me, buddy.” Candace adopts her no-nonsense tone as I stand frozen with shame. “Why did you shut down Hank’s shop?”

“Ask your friend Olive. She called me a few days ago and reported a violation. When I went to see about it, I found out she was right. City code says I have to shut him down.”

“The city code can suck on a lemon as far as I’m concerned.” Candace’s voice rises. “Now you get back over here and tell him everything’s all right.”

“No can do. I can’t just go back on it like that. He’s shut down until the council meets again.”

“Oh my god.” I stare at the phone. “When is that?”

“Olive?” He chuckles. “You sure got him good. They won’t be back in session until January 18.”

“No.” I can feel the blood draining from my face.

“Will, I need you to fix this.”

“He almost had me,” Will continued, “saying something about Mr. Lee and his fire onions, but I wasn’t falling for it. His license is on hold, and there won’t be a decision until January. Well, I’ve got to go. Dot has me caroling with the Baptist choir tonight.”

I reach for the phone. “Wait, Will, could you please just—”

The phone goes dark. He’s hung up, and I’ve hung Hank out to dry.

* * *

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