Christmas Confection Perfection – Advent Calendar Day #4
Day #4 – On the Corner of Second and Kingman
Mary
Soon after Mary wrapped up her Friends in the Kitchen episode, with her bread sitting on the counter ready for packaging, she started the task of loading up hot chocolate supplies, Christmas lights, and ornaments. Her Wednesday night was far from over.
The Christmas Tree Lot outside the old Clark’s Grocers on the corner of Second and Kingman would be opening tomorrow night, and there was still so much to do. The city permit had finally come through, two weeks later than it should have, putting the owners’ little lot in jeopardy. Last year, sales were weak as people continued to switch to fake trees. On top of the prior years’ slumped sales, now Clark’s had raised the lease on the corner of their parking lot. The Peterson Tree Lot was hanging on by threads.
Mary had been a loyal patron for years, and five years ago she and Abigail started selling hot chocolate, cider, and baked goods there to help draw customers in. The treats had worked their charm but were not enough to outpace the higher rental fees and slumped trees sales.
She piled supplies into her backpack and a few grocery bags. With the elevator out, she would have to carry everything downstairs before loading up the red wagon.
The next twelve minutes were spent inching her way down six flights of stairs, the wagon thu-thump-thu-thumping behind her, empty but clumsy.
A few building tenants passed her in the stairwell, eyeing her precarious descent with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement. A gray-haired woman (of at least a hundred years old by Mary’s estimation) offered to help. After a long and awkward debate, Mary finally convinced her that she was fine and scooted down the rest of the stairs as quickly as she could, letting the wagon thu-thump more aggressively in her haste. She had already checked tripping handsome men off her life list, she was in no hurry to add sending grandma tumbling down the stairs to it.
Finally, she made it outside and started the trek to the grocery lot.
The sun had just set, and the cold winter air was rapidly dropping in temperature. Across the street, strands of lights twinkled along the chain-link fence serving as the tree lot perimeter. The scent of pine drifted through the air, cutting through the exhaust of passing cars. Rows of bundled evergreens leaned against temporary fencing, waiting for their strings to be cut and their branches to fall open.
“As if we weren’t behind enough already,” Jack Peterson muttered from near the cash shed. His red flannel was a strong contrast to the evergreens around him.
“Hi, Mr. Peterson!” Mary waved as she walked up, ignoring his grumpy posterior. The man was a teddy bear.
“Mary!” Jack’s face split into a smile when he saw her, all grumblings aside. “Call me Jack! Every year we go through this!”
Mary gave the man a hug. He had become like a father to her the past few years, especially after Abigail’s death and she loved him and his wife, Elsie, fiercely.
“The lights look great, Jack.” Mary relented.
“With the permit delay and late opening, we’ll be lucky if we make half of last year’s sales.” Jack nodded at her compliment but frowned still, he had always been honest with Mary about the state of his holiday business.
Mary offered a sympathetic smile. “I am glad you finally got the green light from the city.”
He gave a weary laugh. “Yeah. They say we can open, provided we add another fire extinguisher, two more ‘No Smoking’ signs, and promise not to roast marshmallows within thirty feet of the trees.”
“No marshmallows.” Mary noted, which was a shame. Roasted marshmallows were the perfect topping for her smores hot chocolate.
“Afraid so, even Christmas comes with paperwork and yellow tape, no thanks to those scrooges.” Jack grumbled. “Same people who insist kindergarteners get permits for lemonade stands.”
“Oh stop your grumbling, Jack.” A voice carried through the cold air.
Mary turned to see a plump blonde heading their way.
Elsie’s cheeks were pink from the cold, which gave her a Christmas elf quality. Faint smile-lines framed her bright blue eyes, matching the ones on Jack’s face. They were, Mary thought, the cutest couple alive.
“Elsie!” she greeted, stepping into a warm hug.
“You look thin. And tired. Have you been eating and sleeping enough?” Elsie fussed immediately.
“Plenty of both,” Mary assured, smiling.
“You work too hard,” Jack added over his shoulder.
“You still seeing that guy you told us about?” Elsie said with a tinge of disapproval in her voice.
“Uhm. Yeah. Kurt, yeah.” Mary waved the topic off. “Where am I setting up shop this year?”
“Over here, dear.” Elsie led her toward the familiar cocoa stand while Jack returned to rearranging trees that were already straight.
“Everything going to be okay?” Mary asks softly as they walked.
“Of course, dear,” Elsie said with her usual optimism. “Just a few setbacks. We’ve talked to our regulars and they’re happy to wait a little longer for their trees. We have the best customers, you know.”
Mary smiled her agreement and turned her attention to the stand. The counter came just to her elbows, and an adorable sign hung overhead reading Cocoa in a sloppy script that looked like it had been painted by one of Santa’s reindeer. All it needed were a few strings of lights and the booth would be ready to charm cold customers.
Mary bent to unpack supplies from the red wagon.
As she bent over to grab a few things, she noticed a pair of shoes stop at the edge of the wagon. A pair of men’s work boots.
“Delivery truck, we meet again,” a low, amused voice said.
Mary froze.
Her pulse tripped and sputtered. Oh no…
She straightened slowly…there he was…the handsome guy from the coffee shop.
And he was smiling at her.
“Mary! You haven’t met our nephew Ashton yet!” Elsie’s voice bubbled with delight.
If Mary hadn’t been boxed in by the wagon, Elsie, and a forest of Christmas pines, she would have bolted.
Instead, she stood there, like a reindeer in headlights.
“Ashton, this is Mary. She’s been selling cocoa here for years. Your uncle just adores her…” Elsie stopped mid-sentence, realizing something was up.
Ashton’s grin widened. Mary’s horror deepened.
“Do you two know each other?” Elsie asked.
“We had a run-in at the coffee shop this morning,” Ashton said slowly, breaking eye contact with Mary to look at his aunt.
“Yep,” was all Mary managed.
“Well! What a small world!” Elsie beamed.
Isn’t it just? Mary wanted to scream.
“It looks like you’ll have plenty of time to get better acquainted,” Elsie went on. “Mary runs our cocoa booth, and Ashton’s helping us with the lot this year. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Before Mary could answer, Jack called for his wife from across the lot.
“Oh, that man,” Elsie sighed. “I’ll be back.”
And then she was gone, leaving Mary alone with the man she’d flattened twelve hours earlier.
They stared at each other for what felt like a million years.
“Sorry to sneak up on you again,” Ashton said, still smiling.
Mary cleared her throat. “Just…setting up.” It was the only clever thing her brain could supply.
He chuckled. “I’m happy to help.”
Mary gave a helpless shrug. “Thanks.” What else could she say?
They crouched beside the wagon and began pulling out supplies, side by side.
They worked in near silence at first, the kind that isn’t quite uncomfortable but isn’t easy either. Ashton untangled a strand of white lights while Mary arranged her tins and jars behind the counter.
“I’m really sorry about this morning.” Mary finally said.
Ashton shrugged, still fussing with the lights. “It’s okay, honestly.”
“Were you on your way to work?”
He looked up at her with a tilt of his head. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Job interview.”
Mary closed her eyes and took in a quick gasp of air. “Oh no, did you have a chance to change?”
Ashton chuckled, nearly done untangling. “Not really.”
“Did they comment about…your suit or the smell?” It was like a train wreck Mary couldn’t look away from.
“Nah, they were polite about it.”
“I really hope that didn’t cost you a job.”
Ashton shrugged as if to say that it surely had not. Then they slipped into silence again.
“Is it always this cold in the city?” Ashton eventually asked, teeth chattering theatrically.
“Only when you forget your gloves,” Mary said, glancing pointedly at his bare hands.
He grinned and flexed his red fingers. “I left them in the truck. Rookie mistake.”
“You’re in for a rough night, rookie.” The banter loosened something between them. Mary risked a smile. “You’re not from around here?”
“No, grew up in a small town in Florida.”
“That’s a change! Welcome north.”
“I have very thin blood it seems.” Ashton worked to string the lights. “Where do you want these?”
“Along the top of the booth. It’ll draw people in once we open.”
He stretched the strand across the counter and reached above her head to tack the first bulb in place. The glow caught in his hair, turning it gold. Mary focused very hard on her box of ornaments.
“Abigail used to help me with this part,” she said quietly, before she could stop herself.
He looked down at her, the teasing fading from his face. “Abigail?”
Mary nodded. “My sister. Yeah. She was the reason I started doing all this. We used to bake together, then come here to sell cocoa. She loved it. She passed away a couple years ago.”
For a moment, the wind rustled the trees around them, soft as memory.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, sounding like he really meant the words. “She sounds like someone worth knowing.”
“She was.” Mary gave a big smile. “So have you worked the tree lot before?”
“Once when I was a kid and visiting. It’s one of my favorite memories.”
“You close with Jack and Elsie?”
“Very close, my dad is Jack’s brother and there were a lot of visits growing up.”
They fell into an easy rhythm after that. He strung lights and she arranged garlands and stacked cocoa mixes. When the last bulb flickered on, the booth looked magical. Warm light spilled over evergreen branches and the little red wagon which was parked faithfully close by.
Ashton stepped back to admire the work. “Not bad.”
Mary laughed, the sound brighter than the bulbs above them. “You’re a natural.”
“I’m better at falling over wagons, honestly.”
“Please don’t make that your job description.”
He winked. “Too late.”
The laugh that escaped her was soft but genuine and, in that moment, with the lights shimmering overhead, Mary realized she was no longer cold.
Then her phone buzzed. She looked down at the cracked screen: Kurt.
Oh, right. Kurt. My boyfriend. She thought. The man she had been seeing for the last ten months. She motioned to Ashton that she needed a minute and stepped away, weaving through the rows of trees.
“Hello!” she chirped into the phone.
“Hey, cutie,” came Kurt’s familiar tone. “Sorry we haven’t connected the last couple days. It’s been wild on set trying to get this new pilot filmed. You free for dinner tomorrow?”
“Uhm, sure.” Mary nodded, stealing a glance at Ashton. Elsie and Jack had made their way over to the cocoa booth and were admiring the setup.
“Great. I’ll swing by around five. Gotta run though, the cast’s heading out for drinks and I’m on the hook for a round.”
“Okay. Goodnight,” Mary said, not expecting an invitation…there never was one when it came to his work.
“’Night.” Kurt said before ending the call.
She sighed and headed back toward the booth.
“This will bring ’em in!” Jack beamed up at the cocoa stand, his hands on his hips in a prideful stance.
Mary smiled. “I think so!”
“This year’s going to be a good one,” Elsie added, looping her arm through her husband’s.
Mary looked at Ashton. He met her smile with one of his own; quiet, genuine, the kind that warmed more than a string of lights ever could.
She tucked her phone back into her coat pocket, pushing aside the faint guilt tugging at her. Kurt was thoughtful in his own way, successful, and good company.
Ashton was just new and she had some complicated emotions related to tripping him. That was all. Just complicated emotions related to embarrassment. Nothing more.
For a moment, everything felt calm with the glow of the lights, the scent of the pine trees, and the promise of snow in the air.
Somewhere in the distance, a gust of wind came up and swept through the trees, rattling the strings of lights. It felt like a whisper of change, though Mary was too content to notice.