“Ah, just as I thought. Charlie put some little nails all along the back of the trim board.” She looked back down at George, only to see him racing down the steps and toward the house across the street.
“George! Come back!”
She watched in horror as George ran up onto the neighbors’ porch and leapt on one of the trees, batting at the ornaments. Maybe he didn’t like the way the porch had been decorated either. Unfortunately, his antics cause the tree to topple with a loud crash.
The door flew open, and the man that owned the house came out. “Shoo! Get away!” He watched as the cat sped back to Dorothy.
His face contorted into a scowl. “Is that your cat? Keep your cat away from my porch! He knocked over my tree.”
His gaze flicked up to the icicle lights, and his brows rose. “Hey, are those the new icicle lights? Where did you get those? I’ve been trying to order some.”
Ha! The knowledge that she had something that the man didn’t made her feel satisfied, as if she wasn’t all old and washed up and that their Christmas tree farm wasn’t outdated.
“I got them online. I think they’re all sold out now, though.” She tried not to sound smug.
The man walked over. George trotted up onto the porch and sat there, licking his paws and staring at her with his green eyes as if the whole thing had been on purpose.
“Sorry we haven’t met before. I’m Kent Hale. I own Tinseltown.” He stuck out his hand.
Dorothy descended the ladder then took off her glove and shook. “Dorothy Woodward.” She had to admit he had kind eyes. She’d never seen a wife over at his place and got the sense that he’d suffered a loss just like her. Her frosty attitude toward him melted just a little.
“Moved here to make a fresh start. Should have introduced myself sooner.” His gaze went back to the icicle lights. “Those look great. But you might want to start at the end there. That way, you won’t end up with half a string dangling in the middle. Is it okay if I show you a few tricks on stringing lights?”
Dorothy wanted to tell him she didn’t need anyone’s help, but she got the sense that Kent needed to help someone. Not to mention she wouldn’t mind learning some tricks.
“Sure.”
Kent climbed up the ladder and started rearranging the lights. “What I like to do is start at the end, then I loop the lights over the nail like this… Then when I get to the column, I wind them down and tuck the end of the string into the shrubs. Then start a new string.”
Kent was a lot quicker than she was, and since the job required moving the ladder a few times, she was happy to let him help. They chatted about winter and town festivities.
When he was done, they stood back in the yard, glancing back and forth between their porches.
“Thanks for doing that,” Dorothy said.
“You’re welcome. It looks nice.” Kent looked back at his porch. “I don’t know, do you think I did too much? My wife used to always have to rein me in, but she’s gone now. Left me for a younger man.”
Dorothy felt a pang of sympathy for him. The pain on his face indicated he’d really been hurt by her. She tried to be gentle with her reply. “Well, it is a little bit much. Maybe you could cut down the garland and stick to just one or two trees. Oh, and I’m sorry about George. I’ll pay for the ornaments he broke.”
Kent waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it. As you said, I had too much anyway. Maybe George was just helping me out.”
The two of them laughed, and Dorothy started to wonder if maybe Kent wasn’t so bad after all. She’d built him up to be some cutthroat grinch trying to steal business from her, but he seemed like just a regular guy. A nice guy. She felt ashamed she hadn’t made the effort to welcome him to the neighborhood before. But now she wondered, could they be friends with their rival businesses?
“Those icicle lights look amazing.” Kristen watched her mother take yet another batch of cookies out of the oven. She’d just gotten back from the wreath-making contest and had been surprised to discover the new lights up on the porch. She was a little bit worried that her mom had climbed up on a ladder to do so. “Did Ethan put them up?”
“No. I did it… well, with a little help.”
A little help? What did she mean by that?
George skidded into the room, batting around a ball of wadded-up aluminum foil.
“You mean George?” Kristen joked.
Dorothy laughed. “Him too, but Kent from across the way came over and helped me out.”
Kristen’s gaze flew to the house across the street with its garish Christmas display. She certainly hoped her mother wasn’t going to do something similar. “He did? I didn’t realize you two were on a first-name basis.”
Dorothy handed her a mug filled with hot chocolate and gestured for her to sit at the kitchen table. “I guess we are now. He’s not so bad.”
