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“Thanks, Billy, You’re a real help!”
“Okay, Sally.”
Fortunately, okay was Billy’s favorite word. He used it anytime she asked anything of him and she smiled. Too bad Hunter didn’t adapt Billy’s agreeableness.
“What’s causing that smile?” Hunter suddenly asked, stepping into the break room.
“Just a pleasant thought,” Sally said. “Is there a problem out there?”
“No, not really. The ladies said I should ask you, but I think I already know the answer.”
“What’s the question?”
“Do I work on the weekends?”
“Did you have other plans for this weekend?”
“No.”
“Then yes, it would be great if you could work on Saturday.”
“Okay.” He stared at her when a big smile appeared on her lips. “Why such a big smile?”
“I was, uh, thinking of something else.”
“Is Saturday your busiest day?”
“Yes, it is. Also, we should get the town tree early next week and I’ll probably need Billy’s help with that. If we get deliveries, you might need to handle those.”
“Okay. So I’ll need to wear rough clothes then?”
Sally fought the smile that wanted to meet his remark. He had dressed in nice slacks and a dress shirt in the store. She guessed rough clothes meant jeans, which almost everyone who came into the store wore.
“You might want to wear jeans.”
“All right. I can do that.”
“Thank you, Hunter.”
He turned to go back to the main part of the store. She watched him go, wondering what he’d look like in jeans. He had a body that he’d obviously developed through workouts. She felt sure he’d look very good in jeans.
There she went again, her mind on Hunter, rather than her work. She had a lot to do today so they’d be ready for the Christmas Festival. But she really wasn’t in the mood for Christmas.
It would be her first one without her parents.
Billy entered the room with more boxes.
“Put them over here, Billy. We’ll make stacks of them so I can go through them and check on all the ornaments.”
After Billy left the room, Sally took the lid off the top box. Each year, her mother would pack the ornaments to be used the next year. And each year, she, with her mother, had added several ornaments. They made most of them themselves. The large ornaments weren’t easy to find.
The top ornaments, wrapped in bubble wrap, were the new ones they’d made the year before. Those ornaments were in good shape. She smoothed her fingers over her favorite one. She’d made it in November last year, with no knowledge of the events that would follow and ultimately end her parents’ lives.
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