Page 6 of The Holiday Grump
He blew out a breath, steam curling in the cold air. “Nerdrik. Happy now?”
I beamed. “Yes. Let’s go, Nerdy.” I gestured toward the street.
He mistook my raised arm for something formal and took it, escorting me like a duke. An unexpected laugh burst out of me, but I decided to roll with it. It wasn’t every day you got escorted by a bookseller. I loved reading, so in my mind, he was basically a drug dealer.
We walked a few steps toward Main Street before I halted. I had no idea where I was going. “Wait. My shop’s supposed to be by the town square, at 51C Hideaway Avenue. Do you know where that is?”
He stiffened. “It’s 51C? Are you sure? There’s only 51.”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Okay.”
We turned and headed in the opposite direction, down a small side street that opened into the town square, glowing with what looked like thousands of fairy lights. Two dog walkers in scarves and wool hats passed us, nodding at Fredrik and sneaking long looks at me.
The shop windows were so elaborately decorated that it took me a minute to spot the business names. I spotted a gift shop and a hardware store.
“Do you know where the Sip is?” I asked.
“The café? It’s over there.” He pointed diagonally across the square.
“It’s a café? Great! That’s where the crochet club meets!”
He frowned. “How do you know about that?”
“This old lady I met on the bus. She taught me how to crochet these super cute flowers and invited me to join the group. I think her name was Ida.”
“Ida Kallis,” he gave a slow nod. “She’s obsessed with yarn. Watch out for Eileen, the café owner. She’ll set you up with anyone single with a pulse.”
I chuckled. “She’ll give up when she finds out I’m only here for the holidays.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
I let Fredrik lead the way. When we stopped at a door with the right number, he jerked back. “Wait… what?”
“This is it. It’s 51C!” I pointed at the small shop window with a familiar name,The Christmas Wonderland, spelled out in brand-new vinyl letters, along with the address. The shop front had been painted red, but ironically, the window display was the dullest on the square, a single string of garishly blinking rainbow lights. I’d fix that first.
“When did they put a door in here?” he grumbled. “They were renovating, but this is insane.”
“What’s insane?”
I scanned the doorway, and I spotted the lockbox. I knelt to open it with a code I’d memorized and pulled out the key with a triumphant flourish. “Look!”
He watched in silence as I unlocked the door and stepped into the dark, stale-smelling room. Relief washed over me. I’d made it somewhere safe for the night.
“In or out?” I asked as Fredrik lingered in the doorway, letting cold air in.
He stepped inside and shut the door.
But when I flipped on the light, my rosy expectations clashed with reality. The narrow room was crammed floor to ceiling with cardboard boxes and smelled like a recycling facility. The owner had told me some setup work was needed, but I hadn’t pictured this.
“Holy shit,” Fredrik said, staring at the wall. “They must have split this off from the main office. It used to be a real estate agency.”
“Well, now it’s a Christmas shop!” I announced, going for confidence. “I just need to do a bit of unboxing.”
“Yeah. A bit.” He eyed the boxes with horror. “Did you say there was an apartment?”
“Yes, at the back.”
