Page 4 of No Business Like Snow Business

“You’re still avoiding Steven, aren’t you?” Chloe asked, lowering her voice.

“Ugh.” It wasn’t a very articulate answer, but it more than summed up my feelings on the subject of Steven Fanning, my ex. Although, did he even count as my ex, considering he’d spent the six months we were together explaining he’d only just come out of a relationship, so he wasn’t ready to go public with me yet? And yes, it had taken me six months to realize that I was probably Steven’s side piece, something I was still carrying the burn of humiliation about. Especially since Chloe had straight up told me so, and, like an idiot, I’d actually defended Steven.

Chloe and I had been in the same year at school, even though we hadn’t been close back then. She had definitely been one of the popular kids, and I’d somehow missed that boat. Like, I’d probably been in the library or something when everyone else had gotten the class on how to be cool. I hadn’t been unpopular or anything, just kind of a background character to everyone else’s high school experience. Chloe had always been nice to me though. She’d gone off to Chicago after graduation, but came back when her dad’s health had declined. We’d run into each other one night at Frosty’s and split a plate of nachos because Chloe had claimed she couldn’t eat the whole thing herself—a total lie—and now we were best friends. She’d had alotto say about the Steven situation, and honestly, I’d been in such denial that I was sometimes surprised our friendship had survived. I was incredibly glad it had, though.

The woman at the counter got her order, so I stepped forward and took her place.

“Hi, Harvey,” Rocco said from behind the counter. “Your usual?”

“Yes, please.” It was pretty cool that he already knew my usual since he hadn’t owned Jolly Java for long and we’d only met a short time ago. He’d bought Jolly Java recently from the former owners, Holly and Joelle, and ruffled a few feathers in the process. He was still ruffling them, last I heard—people really,reallyhated that he’d taken pumpkin spice lattes off the menu—but I didn’t drink coffee and Rocco made an excellent frothed milk hot chocolate, so I was happy he was here. Plus, the first time we’d met, I’d helped him find an old recipe book from the museum for him to use, and I thought it was very cool that he wanted to bring back some old-style cookies and treats. Like, cool because living history was cool, but also cool just because you could never have too many options when it came to sugary snacks, right?

“How’s your grandma?” he asked as he poured milk into a stainless steel jug for the steamer.

“She’s doing good,” I said, inspecting the cookies in the display case by the register. “I don’t think she knows what ‘retired’ means.”

Grandma was way too active to be happy about “sitting on her ass doing nothing.” That was a direct quote. She’d finally retired from teaching last year, and she filled her days with a lot of volunteer work and charity stuff. She was busier now than she’d ever been before, and loving it.

“That’s good.” Rocco stuck the jug under the steamer wand, and after a moment the milk began to burble and hiss.

When my hot chocolate was ready, I paid and stepped aside while Chloe got her order. I held the door for her, and we walked outside into the cold. Christmas Falls in December wasbeautiful, but cold as hell, and the quaint streets of downtown, a.k.a. Santa’s Village, were already bustling with tourists. The annual Christmas Falls Festival, which had been running for almost forty years now, kept the town alive. Events began in mid-November and culminated the day before Christmas Eve. The festival was a Christmas Falls institution.

“Did you hear about Santa’s Helpers?” Chloe asked as she readjusted her scarf.

“No. What happened?”

“Some sort of leak. I don’t know the details, but they’re looking for foster carers.”

“They’re always looking for foster carers. It’s an animal shelter. That’s what they do.”

“Well, now they need them urgently.” Chloe poked me in the ribs. “Didn’t you say you should get a museum cat?”

“Yeah, but I also said I should get a museum lizard. Obviously you shouldn’t listen to me.”

“Well, now might be the time.”

“To listen to me?”

“To get a cat.”

I took a long sip of my hot chocolate, trying to think how to change the subject. I went with, “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You can’t avoid Steven forever.”

“Okay, so firstly, I thought we agreed not to say his name in case it summoned him like the devil,” I said. “And secondly, I can and I will.”

She got the same pitying look on her face she had when she’d watched me eat paste in first grade. “Harvey, ignoring him won’t make him go away. I know it sucks that he’s the guy doing the campaign, but this is like a Band-Aid situation. You just have to rip it off.”

I made a face. “Ugh.” Articulate again. “I just wish someone else had gotten the job.Anyoneelse.”

The town was putting money into revamping the festival’s website, and also into getting a bunch of new tourist brochures printed to distribute to hotels and airports and tourist information places all around the state. And who’d got the job to put it all together? Steven, of course. At some point he was going to have to come and take photographs at the museum and, according to the email from the mayor’s office, “interview our local business owners to get a fun feel for the unique Christmas spirit you provide to your customers!” I wasn’t a business owner—I was employed by the town—but all that meant was that I couldn’t tell Steven to fuck off when he turned up to interview me about the museum. Not that I would anyway. Even when we’d broken up, I hadn’t told him to fuck off. That was the sort of thing I’d only said angrily in the shower afterwards, reinventing how the whole breakup had gone down in a much more dramatic and satisfying manner.

“I know,” Chloe said, and patted me on the arm. “But the sooner you get it over with, the sooner you never have to speak to him again.”

“I’m already never speaking to him now. All this means is I have to break my streak and start over.”

“Yes, but you can’t just leave the museum unattended,” Chloe reminded me.

“I didn’t. Martha’s there.” I let out a long breath. “But, fine. I’ll go and do my job, like some kind of responsible adult, I guess. If I have to.”

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