Page 27 of The Holiday Grump
Before I could explain, I was saved by the bell—The shopkeeper’s bell that chimed above the front door.
“Excuse me,” I said, rushing to the door.
It was Fredrik, with no hat or gloves, a dusting of snow on his hair and shoulders. He seemed agitated, with a deep crease between his eyes. Had he come to ask for his key back?
I heard the footsteps of Mr. Young and lunged at my new friend. “My boss is here,” I whispered. “He saw my stuff at the back and?—”
I swallowed the rest as Mr. Young reached us.
“I’m sorry. The store is not open yet. Come back tomorrow,” he informed Fredrik, showing him the door.
“I’m not here for decorations,” Fredrik replied, studying me with narrowed eyes.
I returned his gaze, trying to transmit a very specific distress signal.
“Fredrik is my… landlord,” I improvised with a smile that likely looked desperate. “He’s here to help me move to my new place.” I turned to Fredrik with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m a little behind on packing. I was just reorganizing mythings in there, but I first wanted to finish unpacking the shop.” I gestured at the stocked shelves around me, hoping they spoke for my work ethic.
Mr. Young nodded, looking a little more relaxed.
Fredrik took a beat, then nodded. “That’s okay. I’ll wait.” He made a show of checking his watch.
I cast him a grateful smile and ran to the back room, stuffing everything I owned into my bulging backpack in record time. When I emerged with my luggage, Fredrik leaped forward, taking it off my shoulders. “Great. Let’s go.”
Mr. Young stood at the door, blocking our way. “I will need your new address.” He peered at me with suspicion.
“It’s 55 Scenic Drive, Locke Heights,” Fredrik replied. “She’s renting a room from me. My name is Fredrik Hagberg.”
My boss took out his phone and typed, eyebrows drawn in concentration. “Is it close by?”
“It’s a couple of miles away, but she can get a ride with me. I own the bookstore next door.”
“Ah! Hard to Find? I saw it! Wasn’t that hard to find.” Mr. Young chuckled at his own joke.
Fredrik gave him a rueful smile. “I cater to collectors.”
“Very well. I’ll leave you to it.” My wannabe-comedian boss tipped his hat at us and opened the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow to show you the cash register and other things, then we officially open the doors. Make sure you price everything. It’s all in the book.”
I nodded in understanding. I’d found the thick catalog under the boxes. “I’ll do that first thing tomorrow. If you could come after lunch.”
He flashed me a playful smile. “Okay. I make it later, but…” He flared his fingers in a gesture of surprise.
“I won’t see you coming,” I finished for him, forcing on a smile. “Got it.”
He stepped outside, chuckling to himself.
As soon as the door chimed shut, Fredrik stepped forward, his voice low and demanding. “That nutjob is your boss?”
I sighed. “It seems so. Thanks for saving my ass.”
“You can’t sleep in that back room. I told you.”
“Where else? I just have to get better at hiding my stuff. I didn’t know he’d be making these surprise visits.”
Fredrik glanced at the window. “I hate to tell you this, but he’s still out there waiting.”
“What?” I sidled to the window.
Yep. My unhinged boss stood a few steps down the road, hobbling on one spot, probably to keep warm. Or maybe he needed to pee, like me.
