Page 41 of The Holiday Grump
I patted Skippy’s soft fur. “Don’t worry,” I told him. “You look nothing like a pigeon.”
“You look sweaty,” Kailee observed.
“I am.” I wiped my forehead.
I’d hoped opening the doors with no fanfare would mean a quiet first day, but the whole town had turned up.
I’d spent the day learning on the go—figuring out the cash register, putting up missing price tags, and fielding endless questions about both the items and my background. Those I at least knew the answers to. But when it came to the stock, I didn’t know what kind of batteries things required or if the singing, dancing Santa came with a warranty. My guess was no. Now I had a long list of questions for Mr. Young, who’d failed to show up despite his earlier warning.
It felt good to keep busy. Without this job, I would have been obsessing over Fredrik’s words. I hadn’t seen him since he’d walked out that morning. Now that Kailee was with me, he must have been there by himself. I’d never seen an actual customer enter his store. How did it survive?
Kailee and Skippy settled on the daybed with her homework until closing time, when I escorted the last old lady out of the shop, promising I’d look for the earring she’d lost somewhere inside.
“Ready?” I asked, peeking into the back room.
“Sure.” She slid a tasseled bookmark into her book.
Skippy, relaxing on the bed next to her, lifted his head and lumbered toward the front door.
“I ran out of bacon,” Kailee explained, letting the dog outside.
I watched the huge stray make his way across the town square, feeling an odd kinship. He didn’t have a home either, but he made it work.
“Let me show you what I put aside for the bookstore.” I beckoned Kailee to the counter, lifting out boxes of lights and decorations I’d stored behind it. “He said nothing that blinked, so I thought he’d like these vintage light bulbs. One color, probably called Edison. And then some red baubles and gold stars. Traditional and low key.”
“Boring.” Kailee browsed a rack of novelty ornaments and picked up a green Grinch figurine, hanging it off her finger. “This would be perfect! Do you have more of these?”
“We’re trying to get him on board, not scar him for life.”
She scoffed. “He’s already scarred for life.” She pressed the Grinch against my face. “This looks like Uncle Fredrik, doesn’t it? Same frown.”
I laughed. “What do you mean scarred…?” I swallowed a ball of shame. Why couldn’t I keep my big mouth shut? “Don’t tell me! And don’t tell him I asked, please!”
Kailee chuckled, swinging the stupid Grinch from her finger. “You like him! You like the Grinch of Hideaway!”
“He’s not the…” I could feel myself blushing. “I mean, he’s helping me. That’s not Grinch-like.”
“Uncle Fredrik helps everyone! He splits firewood for Gramps and Great-Grandpa Charles and half the town. My mom constantly calls him to pick up something or drop off something or take someone ice fishing. He never says no. He just does it looking like this.” She contorted her face to match the Grinch’s expression, then burst out laughing.
Fredrik isn’t like that, I argued with myself.He’d bought me coffee and a croissant, and said…I stopped myself from repeating the words I’d obsessed over all day. They didn’t mean anything. He’d only been settling the score, admitting to feelings he thought I had so I’d feel better about myself. The wayI’dlost control. A nice, selfless act, like splitting firewood.
“Are you hungry?” I asked Kailee. “I’m starving. I didn’t have time to pick up anything during the day. Any chance the crochet club has catering?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so, unless someone’s been baking. The café closes at six, that’s why they meet after.”
“In that case, I need to find some dinner.”
Half an hour later,we sat at The Shore Thing, eating fish chowder and French fries, which I’d bought for Kailee.
“This is where I met Fredrik,” I told her, enjoying the way the hot soup warmed me from the inside out. “I sat right here, taking selfies with that cactus and a cocktail. And he sat—” I lifted my finger and froze.
Because he was right there. Fredrik plopped into his usual seat, undid his scarf, and reached into his bag for his book. As he pulled it out, he looked up and saw me.
He gave us his signature frown, his eyes flicking between us. “I thought the knitting club was meeting at the Sip.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” I grinned. “We’re just grabbing a bite first.”
“Hi, Grinch,” Kailee said, popping a fry into her mouth.She’d taken off her jacket, letting her black top slide off her shoulder.
