Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

I n front of a mirror in the locker room, Sandy scrutinized the flannel button-down and jeans. His best friend Julia peered at him from the iPhone he clutched like a lifeline. "Are you seeing this? I mean what the F kind of torture is this?"

Moonshine sneezed.

Julia yawned as the airport chaos loomed behind her. "Are there bells on those boots? I hear ringing."

He glared at the mirror, daring her to repeat the question. He turned to the left and then the right. No angle seemed to make this disaster work. "Obvi this guy hates me. I came in there wearing silk and he's in flannel. I don't blame him." Sandy put a boot on the bench to tie the shoestrings.

"Flannel is nice," Julia responded with her typical snark.

He scrunched his nose. "He had on blue and white flannel of the variety that men in retirement homes favor. With boots and jeans. Like this hot mess! This guy is like the epitome of a Midwestern dude. I wouldn't be surprised if his house was decorated with a bunch of dead animal heads. What am I supposed to do with that?"

Julia propped her feet on her carry-on bag and shrugged.

"We don't agree on anything. It's a horrible combination—like eggnog and peppermint schnapps. And everything that comes out of my mouth seems to offend him or turn him into an angry elf. A giant angry elf. With these amazing biceps." He held up his hands to demonstrate the size.

"So, not your type and not rip roaring handsome?"

He pursed his lips. "He is—in an annoying way. He looks like a lumberjack leprechaun. I will bet you a zillion dollars he likes the outdoors, and I know he likes kids, which is stupid. And wait, why are we talking about my boss? We should be talking about the fact that I got a job and your girlfriend's dog got a gig, too. We gonna get paid!" Sandy said to Moonshine as he wiggled around in a circle. Excited by the dancing, Moonshine wagged her tail too.

A knock came from the locker room door.

"Come in," Sandy shouted.

Chelsea stuck their head around the door.

Sandy waved to Julia. "I gotta go. Hope your flight isn't delayed much longer. Happy travels!" He disconnected and took his jacket from Chelsea at the door. "What about Moonshine?"

They looked at the dog. "Patrick's office. He could use a friend."

Sandy smiled at the ribbing. Maybe one person here has a sense of humor.

Together, they dropped Moonshine off in the office. Chelsea pulled a towel from a closet and laid it on the floor.

"Water bowl?" Sandy asked.

Chelsea made a hmm sound, then popped open the door to a mini-fridge in the corner and pulled out a Tupperware of what looked like stew.

"I hope that's not Patrick's lunch."

"It smells like it's gone off. We're saving his life." They filled the square container with water in Patrick's bathroom. They set it next to Moonshine's makeshift bed and patted her on the head.

"I kinda can't believe how chill everyone is about having a dog here. This wouldn't fly in Chicago." He wrapped his scarf around his neck and tucked it into his jacket, preparing for the cold.

Chelsea zipped their jacket and pulled on a pair of deerskin gloves as they led them out of the office. "We're not the city."

"Fantastic." He picked up his pace to keep up with them. Does everyone in this town move this fast?

Outside, Sandy put on his earmuffs. The wind had picked up.

Chelsea pulled a key fob from their pocket, aiming it at the blue Silverado parked in front of the store.

"Where are we headed?" Sandy slid into the passenger seat, closing the door and securing his seat belt.

They started the truck and gave a nod to the end of Main Street. "Today is the pre-holiday celebration at the store." Chelsea drove and turned down a side street, leading them to the rear of a café. They turned the vehicle around and backed into a spot by the exit.

"Come on," Chelsea said as they climbed out the door.

Together they folded up the truck bed cover. Chelsea dropped the gate before they entered the establishment.

"This is Viv's Café." They pointed at a large, empty coffee urn sitting on a rectangular table filled with assorted supplies and baked goods. "All of these donations will go to the store."

Sandy nodded as he picked up the urn and a canister of ground coffee. "What goes down at this thing? Besides people going to town on these goodies?"

Chelsea filled their hands with packaged holiday linens. "You're a curious person."

Sandy blurted out a laugh. "And you don't like talking. I'm going to try and change that."

Their stoic face didn't flinch.

With arms full of napkins and cups, Sandy leaned against the door open for Chelsea. "What's the deal with Patrick? Is he always wound tighter than a Christmas clock?"

They nodded and a sigh slipped out as they loaded the truck. "He's under a lot of stress. The store is in transition."

"In trouble?"

They grunted instead of answering, which Sandy took to mean yes.

"Between you and me, the website could use a facelift. It looks like it was created a hundred years ago, and the color scheme is completely different from what I saw at the store. Plus, not to be a total nag, but it reeks of 2010." That earned him a barely audible laugh from Chelsea as they made their way back inside the cafe.

Chelsea loaded trays of pastries into Sandy's arms.

He concentrated on holding the baked goods and not dropping them. "I used to handle the social media for a bookstore, and, sure, it's a different beast, but it's still retail, so do you think Patrick would be open to a discussion about it?"

They followed behind Sandy as they walked. "Maybe . . . Don't dump all over him."

"Oh, no, no that's not—shit. Sometimes my mouth runs away from me. I'll try to be less of an asshat when I chat with him." Ugh, I really gotta get a hold of myself. Do not insult Patrick, and don't inadvertently touch him. Or ogle his ass. He blew his bangs off his forehead.

After they returned to the store, Sandy placed his camera bag behind the curtain. He and Chelsea set up the tables and laid out the baked goods next to the cider and coffee inside of Santa's Workshop. Sandy took his camera out, firing off several sample shots of the set-up. He managed to get a few of Chelsea and Patrick. Personalizing it with people instead of only products would do wonders for the website.

"When does the store open?" Sandy cracked the cellophane on a couple of boxes of candy canes and dumped them into a bowl.

Patrick placed his hands on his hips. That pinched look on his face returned. "We've been open since eight this morning."

So much for not insulting him and his family business. "I guess people are waiting for the celebration. That makes perfect sense." Ugh, he'd epically failed to smooth over this conversation. In his defense, he hadn't seen one customer since he'd arrived, and he hadn't seen any since the set up. It was after ten. A flicker of worry grew in his stomach. How will this place survive through the holiday season? Sandy stepped up to Patrick. "I want to offer my services to help with social media and marketing."

"Did Chelsea say something to you?"

"Not at all. It's . . . " Sandy spread a hand out as if to say "look around" here. "Maybe things could use a boost?"

"It'll pick up. The community always comes through for the celebration. Speaking of, you need to get upstairs and change. Also, I have some songs that we sing printed out for you on my desk. Will the dog be okay in a crowd?"

Sandy tossed empty candy boxes into a recycle bin. "Yes, sir, boss man. And, yup, she'll be amazing. Moonshine's a people person." Boss man? Yeesh, who am I? He tucked his camera bag away and then started toward the stairs.

He stopped by Patrick's office. Moonshine trotted to him, and he gave the furry animal a pat on the head and a few scratches behind her ears. "Please tell me you didn't pee on anything."

Moonshine gave a woof, which kind of sounded like she was offended by the suggestion.

Sandy snatched the music off the desk. "You need to visit the outdoors before this shindig. Come on."

Inside the locker room, Sandy changed into the elf costume and snapped a few selfies. Yeah, I can pull off anything, even bells on my shoes and a floppy felt hat. Sandy attached Moonshine's leash and led her to the back exit. Walking in the ridiculous jingling elf shoes slowed the process. He opened the back door and let Moonshine run out on her own, seeing as he didn't want to risk getting snow or anything else on them.

Just as Chelsea came down the hall, Moonshine ran back inside. Sandy attached the leash and her antlers. "Okay, we're ready."

They nodded. "When Santa comes down the stairs, we'll start singing."

Sandy gave a thumbs up as excitement ran through him. This was ridiculously fun. He followed behind Chelsea as they walked to the workshop. Surprisingly, the store had filled up with dozens of adults and children.

Chelsea turned to him. "Okay, now."

As Santa gave out a jolly laugh from the first stairstep, the usually monosyllabic Chelsea burst out the opening lines to "All Alone on Christmas." A huge smile spread across Sandy's mouth, and he started to sing, too. And then everyone joined in as Santa ho-ho-hoed his way through the crowd.

When Sandy belted out the lyrics to the next song all he could think was that Patrick had been right. The community sure did show up for McCormick's. But where was Patrick? Surely, he wouldn't be working on the books while this celebration was happening. Sandy glanced around the faces in the crowd, but he wasn't anywhere to be found.

Santa led the elves and the dog to his chair. As the song died down, Sandy ordered Moonshine to sit next to Santa's chair on the stage. Then he popped behind the curtain and grabbed his camera. Patrick didn't say anything about shooting the event, but he'd be foolish not to take the opportunity to snap some photos.

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" Santa's voice boomed. "Welcome one and all to McCormick's Holiday Celebration. I flew into town and will be here all month to celebrate with my favorite friends and family in Mayfield. Please help yourselves to the pastries and refreshments."

A small girl wrapped up in a jacket as if she were a character from South Park tugged on Sandy's costume. "I like your dog deer. Can I pet them?"

Sandy bent down to the kid. "Sure. Like this." He held his hand up to Moonshine's nose, showing her how to introduce herself to the dog.

The girl followed his instructions. "Don't dogs get cold in the North Pole?"

"She has fur and sweaters. But she works mostly inside instead of out."

"Like baking cookies?"

"More like consuming them if you don't keep an eye on her."

"You're funny." The girl's mother took her hand and led them to the photo line.

Wow. Kids are so easy. I'm amazing at this job. Sandy locked his camera down into the tripod and adjusted the focus. Then he stepped up to Santa. "Hi, ah, Santa, I need to make some adjustments to your beard and jacket. You good with that?"

"Do what you need to do." Santa winked at him.

"Don't mind if I do." Sandy pulled the ends of the wig out of the suit, laying it down, and straightened the beard, blocking Santa from the children's eyes. "There we go, that's much better. You look very handsome. I bet the missus loves this beard."

"Ho, ho, ho, I'm not married. Are you?" A blush rose in Santa's cheeks.

Is Santa flirting with me? RuPaul help me, I do love a beer belly. "Nope, this elf is as free as a reindeer. We'll have to chat before you fly off on your sleigh."

"My sleigh has room for one more."

"Oh, Santa, you're a bad boy." Admittedly, he shouldn't be bantering with a guy whose face and body he'd yet to see. But so far his winter had been awfully cold and lonely, and rolling around with Santa had moved to the top of his must-have list, so he wasn't about to stop these shenanigans. "I might have to come sit on your lap a little later and tell you what I really want for Christmas." Sandy chuckled as he returned to his camera.