His feelings on Christmas are none of my business, though, if he chooses to share at some point, I wouldn’t be opposed to listening. “I figured if I have to be here, I might as well decorate.”
I scoot the ornaments aside for a deeper dive into the buried contents.
“Have to be here?” Knox’s richly textured voice is close. Our bent heads touch, jolting me, gracefully, I’m sure, into the wall.
“Oops. Sorry.”
There’s a counter between us, yet he tucks his hands in his pockets and retreats, allowing me plenty of space. I’m not afraid of him or anything, but I suppose things have dialed a bit toward awkward. Just two strangers hanging out after closing time.
Really, the man seems harmless enough. How could he not be with that wild little cowlick sprouting from the back side of his head?
Gluing my attention to the box, I rifle through the contents.
“You want me to open the other one, too? I can.”
I risk a glance. His stubbled face seems eager. “Sure. This place is kind of depressing. I thought maybe sprucing it up might make the weeks go faster.”
He squats down, punctures the packing tape, and drags the blade the full extent of the box. One toe peeps out from the top of his left sock, poor thing. He spreads the flaps.
A spider explodes from the box, scurrying for freedom. I manage to avoid a full-on scream, but a sound bordering on humiliating escapes. The eight-legged monster pauses to stare, likeI’mthe intruding idiot, then drops to the floor and scampers into oblivion.
“You know, he’s more afraid of you than—”
“Oh, shut up.”
He—Knox—laughs as if I’m the funniest thing ever created.
Continuing to chuckle, he reaches into the pit of danger and removes a short branch. I jump back, effectively cornering myself. One can never be too careful.
He gives the branch an easy shake. A sound similar to sleet hitting earth cascades around us. A slew of green needles shimmy to the floor. “Um, I doubt this thing will lift the mood much, Everly.”
Talk about depressing. I wrap my arms around my middle and sigh. The length of the day, which began predawn, assailsme. “You may have a point. Oh, well. I’ll figure something out this weekend. Uncle Charlie warned me he hadn’t dragged the Christmas stuff out in years.”
“UncleCharlie? You’re his niece?”
Nosy again. “Great niece. You know Charlie?”
Knox lifts one powerful shoulder. “Not really. I’ve been in a few times with the guys over the last month. They told me he had a heart attack.”
I nod. “Last Friday morning.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Okay, I guess. He had bypass surgery. He’s moving to a rehab facility tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry about that, but I’m glad he’s improving.”
“Me too. I have a feeling recovery will be a slow go. He’s not big on taking care of himself.” Kind of like the diner.
Knox’s chin dips in a serious nod. “Well, he’s already on my prayer list.”
Prayer list? The muscles that, yeah, I guess have been bunched in my neck, ease. “Thanks.”
“You’re the family member tasked with saving the day?”
I lean my hip to the counter. “Family businesses are just so awesome, you know?”Scritch-scratchgoes my irritation.
Knox bobs his head as if giving my statement full consideration. “Sometimes they’re a pain, but they can be alright.”
