Page 29 of About Last Christmas
“Mmm.” My bored hum doesn’t fool anyone. “My nice list might be full.”
“Is that a challenge?” He tugs on my hands and brings me to my feet. “Because I promise I can be the nicest of the nice.” He dips his head, his voice a gruff whisper across my skin. “So nice you won’t be able to handle it.”
Of that, I’ve no doubt. I retreat a step, only to knock my heel against the stool. “Fine. I’ll take you up on your offer.” My lips tug in a smile, and something in it makes Leo’s smug expression turn wary. I shouldn’t be enjoying this. “I hope you don’t get stage fright.”
All amusement drops from his face. “Why?”
“Because tonight, you get to sing.”
CHAPTER 10
“If you’re lockedin the parade lineup, it’s as serious as a blood oath,” I say from beside Leo in his truck, one so monstrous it eats Fiats for breakfast. We spent most of the afternoon decorating the store. Leo helped in more ways than reaching the taller boughs of the tree. He encouraged me to share memories of Gran. So I talked about how she taught me to drive at Silver Creek Park and nearly bailed when I almost veered off the one-lane bridge. How she would make chocolate chip waffles on the mornings of my birthday. I found myself telling him things I never shared with anyone else, not even Tilly. Instead of the past few hours being heartbreaking, they were therapeutic.
Also, not only did Leo listen, but he fed me Chinese food. The DoorDash came as we were finishing up decorating, and now, with a heart full of nostalgia and a stomach full of orange chicken, I’m ready for part two of my day—the parade. First, we need to pick up the float. Thanks to Leo, I won’t be getting fined tonight. “Because of the Main Street Revolt, there’s no escaping the parade without some sort of consequence.”
He backs out of the shop’s lot. “Revolt?”
“A few years ago, several Main Street businesses enrolled for the parade and all listed elaborate ideas for their floats.”
He flicks on his turn signal and glances at me. “I sense a but.”
“Yep, the big but of Mayor Perkins.” I shake my head at the memory. “He wanted Silver Creek to be tech friendly. So he requested all businesses use QR scanning only. That didn’t go over well.” Most of the shop owners haven’t even graduated to smartphones yet. Poor Mr. Gunther, the Farmers’ Market Manager, was adamant that QR codes are secret government trackers and that he didn’t outlast Y2K, AOL dial-up, and a string of forgotten email passwords to be overtaken by a splotchy square. His words. He can be a bit much, but what he lacks in tech-friendly cooperation, he makes up for with quality produce. “In retaliation, the shop owners dropped out of the parade at the last minute to embarrass the mayor.”
He chuckles. “Main Street mutiny. I like it.” He leans on the center armrest between us, sending notes of his cologne my way. “Did you join the rebellion?”
“Nope. Gran and I went. Her love of Christmas outweighed her thirst for revenge.” My elbow bumps his, and I’m kinda flustered by his nearness. Needing something to do, I adjust my scarf. “Though I think Gran really wanted to win the Most Festive Float award. With the majority of the competition out, she knew her chances were high.” Pap wasn’t the only competitive one in the family.
“Did you win?”
“A last-minute entry knocked us out of the running.” Oh, the fury that lit Gran’s eyes when the winner was announced. “We lost to Rhonda’s Party Palace. Gran claimed it was fixed because Rhonda donated several bouncy castles to the Fourth of July event that year.”
He shakes his head in commiseration. “Small-town politics are the worst.”
“Gran voted for his opponent last election. All because Mayor Perkins is easily swayed by Rhonda’s inflatables.”
Leo coughs.
“Anyway, after the Main Street Revolt, if a business backs out, they get fined. I think it’s only fifty bucks, but it’s about principle.”
He nods in solidarity and pulls onto the storage facility’s lot. The sky’s dimming by the minute, but I easily direct him to my unit. Once parked, I punch in the code, and Leo helps me with the massive sliding door. I flip on the lights to reveal the Christmas wonderland that is my float.
He does a double-take. “You did this?” He steps inside the unit and pauses in front of theWhite Christmassign that I patterned after the opening credits of the movie. On the front of the trailer is a red bag filled with wrapped boxes. The karaoke machine Leonard stole from the senior center sits near the back, along with tubs full of candy to toss along the parade route. The rest of the space is taken up by a massive Christmas tree like the one from the final scene of the movie.
Leo slides a finger over the silver garland. “I recognize this tree.”
“You’ve seen the film?” I didn’t mean to sound doubtful, but this guy doesn’t seem like a song-and-dance movie lover. He looks more like aDie Hardperson. I bet every Jolly Rancher in those buckets that Leo has the movie memorized.
He points at me with a teasing smile. “Just because I didn’t know your romance flicks doesn’t mean I’m ignorant of all movies.”
“Only the best ones,” I counter. “But yeah, I stayed up most of the night finishing this.” Which is why my feet and back hate me right now. “Anything for Gran.”
His head tilts in question. He ditched the baseball cap in the truck, so that lone curl topples over his forehead.
“Oh, I went all out this year in her honor.”
“Everything looks amazing.” His reassurance bolsters my hope.
We need to hitch the float to Leo’s truck, but first, I grab Bruce’s costume from the standing rack in the corner. I skirt around the large dressing screen. Over the past years, this storage unit has also served as my personal changing room for parade night.
