Dear Santa,
Do you have a beard all year? Do your elves live at your house? Do you get to eat red and green candy all year long? Did you know peppermint is good for stress? I’m leaving you candy canes instead of cookies so you won’t be stressed trying to get all the toys to all of us all over the world in one night.
Thanks,
Bret
Geoff parked behind Christmas Galore.
The annual Pleasant Sands Christmas parade was set to start at six o’clock. He grabbed his jacket and walked outside toward the beach road. Every lamppost along it was decorated with festive wreaths and bows.
Barricades marking off the parade route were already set up at the intersections, and people flowed toward it from every angle.
The banners that normally welcomed people to Pleasant Sands now boasted bright red flags with shimmering snowflakes on them.
Families and friends huddled, talking among themselves as they waited. Some folks had chairs set up along the parade route. Children squealed and bounced around in excitement. It looked like peak tourist season. He took a picture of the crowd to share with his mom. He felt a bit lonely in the crowd. He wished now he’d asked someone from the store to come along.
The ratta-tat-tat from the high school band drum line sounded in the distance. Chatter slowed and people edged closer to the street.
The boom from a bass drum pounded too, and then the brass section joined in with a blast of horns, and the familiar melody of “Jingle Bells” filled the air. By the time the band was within a few blocks, everyone was singing along.
The shiny instruments bounced from left to right in perfect unison, and cheerleaders wore shiny light-up fingered gloves. Probably bought from his store. They’d had one heckuva run on them recently. After this, more would probably sell. He took out his phone and texted Chandler, saying, “Move the display of those finger LED lights, and the black finger light-up gloves to the front of the store or near the register. They’ll be a hit after this parade.”
“On it,” Chandler texted back.
The band major puffed out a triple-tweet from his whistle and the group started their high-step marching and choreography for about thirty feet before a switch to “Angels We Have Heard on High.”
A young woman standing in front of him yelled, “Look! It’s Mayor Jessup.”
An old ’47 Chevrolet pickup truck idled along with its shiny chrome grill making a splashy background for the wreath hanging from the front hood ornament. The sweet cherry-red paint was so glossy that Geoff could practically see his reflection all the way from over here. The mayor waved from the driver’s seat. In the back, a blue spruce stood tall and proud with shiny silver garland draped around it, and exaggeratedly large ornaments adorning it in a rainbow of colors. Santa Claus stood in the back, waving and tossing candy canes into the crowd.
Kids scrambled for the candy canes, one of them walking over to offer one to Geoff.
“Thank you,” he said to the young red-haired boy.
“You’re welcome, mister.”
Along the edge of the crowd fancy four-wheel-drive golf carts driven by brightly dressed elves zipped along doing loop the loops as the elves tossed treats into the crowd too.
Geoff laughed at their shenanigans. Mom would have loved this. He snapped off more pictures. It would be fun to share this with her. They hadn’t been to a parade together in years.
He sidled closer to the parade route, leaning out to get pictures, when all of the sudden he felt something nudge him. He wobbled then caught his balance and spun around. A big dog stared up at him, drool hanging from one side of his mouth, his tongue lolling as if he had just had a good laugh. “What the—” He brushed his hand across his pants. The dog had left a swath of drool across them. “I just had these dry-cleaned. Man.”
“You?”
He lifted his gaze from his lap. Standing right next to the huge dog was Angela.
“Should have known you don’t like dogs,” she said.
“Everyone loves Rover!” A little girl threw her arms around the big dog’s neck. The dog had to weigh 140 pounds. He was huge, and even wearing a silly holiday bandanna he was a bit intimidating.
“This is your dog?” He looked at Angela and then the dog.
“No. It’s my sister’s dog.” Angela rubbed the dog’s head.
“He’s mine!” Chrissy yelled.
Angela added, “And my niece’s dog.”
“I love dogs, just not the ones the size of ponies.”
“He’s a Newfoundland, and he’s certified.”
“Well, I’m glad he has a job, because Rover can pick up the dry-cleaning tab on these slacks.”
“Rover doesn’t have a job,” Chrissy said. “Who are you?”
“I own Christmas Galore. I know your aunt.” He raised his left brow and waited for her to jump in and explain.
“Ohhhhh. You’re in trouble, mister, because my aunt wrote a letter to Santa about you. You’re a bad man.”
“I try to always stay on the ‘nice’ list,” he said.
“Then you need to be nice to dogs,” Chrissy insisted.
Geoff couldn’t believe he was arguing with a child. “I like dogs.”
“Probably about as much as you like Christmas,” Angela said with a sneer.
Geoff reached down to pet Rover. “There, there, buddy. I’m sorry if I offended you, but you did make a mess of my pants.” Rover took his nose and nudged it under Geoff’s hand, then lifted his paw to shake hands.
“You are a smart dog,” Geoff said.
“You!” Angela gulped air, then stabbed a finger in the air in his direction. “Quit trying to win over our dog.”
The throaty noise that followed sounded more like pain than a sound.
“We are leaving,” Angela finally spit out.
Marie, who had arrived at the scene, grabbed her sister’s arm. “That’s a good idea.” They started to walk, but hadn’t gone two steps before Angela spun around to face Geoff again.
“You put me out of business,” Angela said.
“I didn’t put you out of business. We’re totally different.”
“My store is special. It’s an important part of the history in this town.”
He nodded in agreement. “You cover a very nice niche market.”
“Don’t reduce what I’ve spent my life doing as some insignificant niche. It’s not a niche. It’s a whole business.”
“I would never call your store insignificant, but clearly it is full of its own virtue.” As was she.
“Who do you think you are? You don’t know anything about Heart of Christmas, or me.” She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. “I’ll have you know … the people of Pleasant Sands are very proud of our history. And people love my store.”
“Yes. I know, and it’s a sweet little shop.”
“It’s not sweet. It’s my business.”
“Well, I just meant that it was small. And from the sounds of things it will be not be around for long. I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe we can help by purchasing some of your inventory. You have quite a selection of village pieces. I’m sure they are very popular.” He regretted the empty promise as soon as he said it, because there was no use for the type of inventory she carried in any of his Christmas Galore stores.
“You’ve been in my store?”
Marie tugged Angela by the arm. “We really should get back over here and watch the parade. Come on—”
Angela yanked her arm out of her sister’s grip.
“You put me out of business. You and your one-stop, filled-to-the-ceiling warehouse of low-quality junk. No one even cares if what they buy from you lasts through the season.”
“And there’s something wrong with that?” He shook his head. “It’s not my fault that my business model appeals to folks. It’s what I do. I’m good at it. Sue me.”
“You are not appealing at all.”
“If you’d been a little flexible in your business model you could have kept your business afloat. It’s a charming little store.”
“Stop calling my store little, and charming, and sweet. You make it sound like I’m running a lemonade stand.”
He wanted to say maybe that was a better idea than what she was doing. At least his merchandise was something people needed at the beach. Who really needed Christmas ornaments in July? That’s when most of the customers were in town. But he didn’t want to be mean, and his comments had been borderline ugly.
He softened his tone. “I didn’t mean to imply that.”
“I’ll have you know that forty percent of all businesses in Pleasant Sands have only been around an average of three years. Heart of Christmas has enjoyed over ninety years here. We are a cornerstone of this town, and even if it comes to be that I close Heart of Christmas and there is not a store there, that lighthouse will continue to shine on in this town’s history.”
“You’re just a sputtering fountain of local knowledge, aren’t you?”
She pressed her hands to her sides. “At least I want what’s best for this town. I help bring Christmas magic to this town.”
“Yes, well, you won’t give anyone else a chance to without starting a war.” On that note, he turned to walk away.
There was no sense causing a big scene at the Christmas parade. People were beginning to look.
He wished he were feeling a little Christmas magic right now too. Enough magic to let him disappear.
The last thing he needed was his customers seeing him act like an ass with the town’s beloved shopkeeper.