Leaving Maguire with Meadow, Michael wondered, Was that card just a prank? Then he shrugged and removed his punch list to consider his next task. I talked to Janis already. Once the inner door comes in, I can arrange to have it installed. The next person is Arlo. We're breaking ground early next year, so it would be a good thing to touch base with the Lily Rock council one more time. And then Marla has left me a two-page humdinger of a list. Small stuff to do from painting to removing nails. Plus I want to work on her security system and get the camera going.
He felt purposeful when he knew he had tasks to accomplish. Five years ago after Daniel's death, he'd gone to a grief counselor. One of the first things she suggested was that he keep busy, especially around Christmas, which was also Daniel's birthday. Her words came to him as if she'd just spoken.
"You'll be reminded of your son especially with his birthday at Christmas. You'll think you're okay, but then it will hit you out of the blue. While everyone else is filled with holiday blessings and cheer, you'll find yourself crying over the smallest things.
"It's overwhelming to lose a child, especially one as young as Daniel. But the tears aren't a bad thing. Just think of them as your love being expressed. Tears are love, Michael," she'd reminded him in their last session. "Keep busy, stay in the moment, make yourself useful. Don't sabotage and avoid the grieving, but don't think about Daniel all the time either. It will get better. I promise."
He shoved the small notebook with his to-do list into his back pocket. I'll check in on the teens and Thorny and his wife. It's good to be available for other people. Another way to stay busy. Plus Thorny seemed nervous and not himself at my house. I had no idea he was a day drinker.
One more look at the shop told him that Old Toy Trains exuded the spirit of the season. Every light and decoration was in place. The wooden nutcracker, dressed like a train conductor, stood tall and foreboding, a foot away from the entrance door. Just his size made Michael smile.
He went closer, admiring the construction of the nutcracker. The shiny surface, each paint color distinctly vibrant, including the gloved hand holding the old-fashioned lantern, had been expertly painted. He walked around to examine the back of the pretend conductor. A tall and narrow opening was protected by a tall and narrow door. A person could fit into the back of this thing. That's probably where Betty keeps the recording device and loudspeaker. Plenty of room for adjustments and repairs, should she require them.
He walked to stand in front of the nutcracker again. It was only five days until the Lily Rock holiday hubbub started for real: the sound of the conductor, aka nutcracker, would be a constant reminder that the toy store was open for business. "All aboard" an hourly jolt.
Still fascinated by the construction, he ran a finger over the nutcracker's coat buttons. Then a sudden thought popped into his mind. I wonder if this thing is secured to the deck… He gave the statue a slight push to test its stability. The nutcracker did not budge. He seems pretty stable. I'd hate to see him fall on some unsuspecting kid on his way to the toy store. Michael leaned over to inspect the black boots. Screws had been driven through the paint and then painted over. Ah, good deal. That should keep him upright.
Satisfied with the construction of the oversized nutcracker, he turned away. I'd better go inside now. He took a step toward the door. His hand froze over the knob. Arguing voices came from inside the shop. Michael recognized the voice of Robyn Fletcher, Thorny's wife.
A quick glance revealed Mr. and Mrs. Santa standing in the corner of the shop, huddled behind the throne where Santa would sit to greet the children. Thornton's eyes locked onto something across the room as Robyn poked her finger in his chest. Her words were loud, almost violent sounding. "My online business is not about you. Stay in your lane, Thornton!"
Michael turned his head. He didn't want to be noticed or to interrupt their personal argument. Standing in front of the window, he pretended to admire the shop's Christmas tree.
He didn't want any trouble, at least not in his state of mind. I can go inside and get in the middle of something. Or I can wait. Or I can walk away and drop in later. At that moment Logan Tippett flung open the door. Dressed like an elf, complete with shoes with toes that turned up in the front, he glanced at Michael, smiling with relief.
"Oh hey, Mike," he called out.
"Want to join me?" Michael pointed to an empty bench across the boardwalk. Logan sat right down, exposing his beefy legs encased in green tights. "Nice outfit." Michael nodded to his tricorne green hat with feather.
"Don't start," Logan said grimly. "I had no idea how bad this job would get until Betty handed me the costume. ‘Put it on now!’ she screamed at me. I mean, nobody does that. She's not my mother. Even my mother wouldn't tell me what to wear."
"She is your boss. At least for a couple more weeks," Michael reasoned.
"I guess," he muttered.
"And you get to work alongside the lovely Avery," Michael added.
Logan's head jerked up. "So you noticed…"
"Who wouldn't have a crush on her. She's beautiful, smart, and a little bit naughty, trying to steal that necklace."
"I guess I'm a sucker for the bad girl," Logan admitted. "But I'm not sure it's worth wearing this outfit!" He looked around and then back at Michael. "So why are you outside?"
"I heard arguing, so I decided to delay going into the shop."
"Oh, that's Thorny and his wife. They've been at it all morning. Reminds me of my parents only worse because they're wearing those outfits." He looked down at his hands. "After hearing them, I don't think I'll ever be able to think of Santa in the same way I used to, you know, as a kid."
And then unexpectedly Michael's eyes teared up. He reached over to pat Logan's shoulder. "Don't worry, kid. Once you get away from this temp job, you never have to take another one like it. I worked all kinds of places before I landed as an architect. You'll get your holiday vibe back soon enough."
Logan nodded. "Thanks," he muttered.
Michael blinked, willing the tears to stop. Why am I so sensitive about this kid getting a dose of reality? It's not like he reminds me of Daniel. Is there such a thing as a grown man being a hot mess? If there is, I must be the poster guy.
He turned back to Logan. "Why don't we walk in together. There's no sense in letting the Clauses keep arguing."
"Every time Betty steps out, they go at it. People look in the window, hear them yelling, and then walk away. If she finds out she's losing business, she may fire them." Logan turned to Michael wide-eyed. "I don't want her to get any ideas and make me Santa. I'd rather be an elf. At least I don't have to have kids pull on my beard all day."
He stood, looking across the boardwalk toward the window. Michael stood next to him. They both listened. To Michael's relief, harsh voices could no longer be heard.
"Let's find Avery," Logan suggested. "She's probably hiding in the storeroom."
"Is she dressed as an elf?" Michael asked.
"Come see for yourself." Logan walked across the boardwalk to push the door open.