Klasky - Harmony Christmas

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I t was beginning to look a lot like Christmas .

Which was another way of saying that Lexi Taylor was hard at work, tucked behind the counter at The Christmas Cat. Inside the Harmony Springs Main Street boutique, every day was Christmas. And that made it rather ironic that Lexi was repeating to her best friend, You know I never go to the Christmas Fte .

But this year is different, Anne Barton said, leaning against the counter as she sipped from a cardboard cup of coffee. Every store on Main Street is sponsoring a booth. Itll be a great chance for you to advertise. Bring in some new customers to help you over the New Years hump .

Lexi was beginning to regret ever confiding her financial fears. Of course Anne didnt have any seasonal woes. The Orchard Diner was busy month in and month outunlike The Christmas Cat, which would be moribund for the first quarter of the year. That was the challenge of living in a tiny antebellum Virginia town. Ten streets by ten streets, Harmony Springs was reliant on tourism and centuries-old apple orchards to keep local businesses in the black .

Anne leaned forward to sweeten the pot. How can you not look forward to the Fte? Hot cider? Fresh doughnuts? All the roast pork you can eat, with handsome policemen turning the spit ?

A bonfire, smack in the center of Harmony Park .

Lexi shook her head. Its just an excuse to get kids out of the house so parents can finish up Santas work. How many times had she heard about her own father using the Christmas Eve celebration to assemble her first bike? Or her mother putting the finishing touch on a knit scarf as she supervised carnival games for the towns sugar-hopped kids ?

Spoil-sport, Anne pouted .

Before Lexi could retort, a circular saw screamed in the back room, followed by a string of colorful curses. Lexi called out, Everything okay back there? Edging past a six-foot-tall artificial blue spruce decorated with superhero ornaments, she peered into her brothers construction zone .

Chris pushed his protective goggles onto his forehead. You know I failed wood shop, right ?

Youre the one who said you wanted a platform to keep your books off the floor !

I think I said, I need a place to store these books .

Lexi shook her head at the misshapen scraps of wood that punctuated piles of sawdust on the floor. And I said the back room has flooded three times, which is why I keep my stock in the front room. Harmony Creek ran through a channel a block away. The usually well-behaved stream overflowed its banks when the Shenandoah Valley weather was especially wet. She reminded Chris, If youre willing to take the risk, then you can be done playing tool guy .

Yeah, yeah, Chris said, kicking at a section of one-by-eight that was supposed to form part of a frame for his raised plywood surface. Sawdust billowed up, coating the overstuffed Queen Anne armchair hed dragged over from his now-closed shop .

Anne peered around Lexis shoulder. Are you sure you got the right wood at the lumber yard ?

Dont you start in too. Chris jutted his chin toward the front room. Dont you two have work to do out there? Ornaments to hang? A diner to run ?

Absolutely, brother dear, Lexi said as Anne grinned. Just remember: Measure twice. Cut once .

Chris acknowledged her advice by scratching his temple with his middle finger. Laughing, Lexi led Anne back to the front room .

When does he start in DC? Anne asked, taking another swig of coffee .

He moves tomorrow and reports for work on Thursday. Chef Morales says theyre crazy busy for the holidays .

Chef Morales Anne mused. Maybe I should start calling myself Chef Barton .

Lexi laughed. It doesnt quite go with a greasy spoon .

I wash every one of my spoons! Anne protested in mock outrage .

Lexi smiled as Chris let loose another stream of profanity. Until last week, her brother had been the mild-mannered owner of Taylors Books. Hed grumbled about shutting up the unsuccessful business forever, dreaming about pursuing a job as a chef. Lexi had spent years eating the manifestations of those dreams, the delicious appetizers and entres and desserts Chris experimented with on his days off. Now, hed finally landed a job as a sous-chef in Washington, just an hour and a half away, and he was really pulling the plug .

Lexi had volunteered to watch over his stock for a few months while he gave the big city a chance. She shook her head. Chris was a great guy, and an even better cook, but he was one hell of a lousy businessman. His tiny bookstore had been doomed from the get-gothree blocks off Main Street and at the far end of town, too far for any casual tourist to wander. It didnt help that Chris had insisted on stocking the shop only with books he wanted to read. Coffee-table gourmet cookbooks didnt naturally mix with massive tomes on Harmony Springss Civil War history and lurid true-crime accounts of serial killers .

Hey, Anne said before Lexi could tease her more about the diner. When did you get these? She walked over to the retro tree halfway down the middle aisle. Lexis belly churned as Anne reached out to touch a bubble candle light on the aluminum tinsel branches .

Dont be ridiculous. Theyre plastic .

But she had to conquer the nerves that twisted through her gut. She forced a smile as she crossed the store. Last week, she said, proud that her voice didnt shake. She reached out and straightened one of the candles, a blue one. But her heart was still pounding when she took refuge by the cash register. She wiped her palms against her bright red and green skirt. The long sleeves and high neck of her traditional Victorian costume felt like an exoskeleton, holding her upright .

Anne must have sensed something was wrong, because she changed the topic of conversation. Lexi barely heard her babble on, something about a new sandwich she was going to serve as a lunch special. Turkey. Bacon. Pepper jack cheese. Chipotle mayonnaise .

Lexi forced herself to straighten her right arm, to prove she had nearly full range of motion. With grim determination, she opened the tube of heavy-duty moisturizer she kept beneath the counter. She massaged a dab into the tight skin on the back of her hand .

Thirteen years. Thirteen freaking years since Bartons General Store had gone up in smoke with Lexi and Anne sleeping in the attic. Anne had scrambled down the stairs first, escaping scot-free. But Lexi still got caught by surprise sometimes, pulled up short by the injuries shed suffered so long ago .

Oh. From the silence, Anne must have asked her a question. Im sorry, Lexi said. I wasnt paying attention .

Before Anne could repeat herself, the bell tinkled above the front door, teaming up with a gust of winter air to announce a new customer .