Forty minutes later the car stops and I turn to Beau. “I hope your stomach is ready for what is about to occur.”
Chapter Twelve
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or if you’re going to take me to a place that serves a seven-course meal but all the courses are only a bite each.”
“You’ll have more food than you could eat in one sitting.” I get out of the vehicle. “Ready for the best Christmas market in the States?” I ask, pulling him toward the stalls.
“Who’s making this determination?”
“Me. I am.” I stride confidently into the crowd, knowing every nook and cranny of this market from the numerous visits I’ve made over the years.
“Have you visited every Christmas market in the States? You ought to get a decent sample size.” Beau follows behind in the path I clear.
“Yup. I’ve visited them all.” I boldly lie with a straight face. Not that he can appreciate it since he’s behind me.
“Well then lead on, Christmas Market Expert.”
I take him through the rows of enclosed stalls, barely glancing at the different items for sale, from paintings to apparel to ornaments, all with cute winter animals and other Christmas perfectness.
Each stall is decorated for the holiday, with lights and sparkly decorations in red, green, and gold being the most popular colors. All to separate the people from their money (me; I’m people and my money is theirs). The best decorations, though, are anything with dogs in Christmas outfits on it.
We wander around the stalls, me following my nose and memory until I get to where I want: the indoor food hall.
“Christmas pierogis!” I say when we get to my favorite savory food stall. Not to be confused with my top three favorite sweet food stalls. Because I can’t pick just one and this holiday supports excess.
We get in line. “What makes it a Christmas pierogi?” Beau asks.
“Because I’m buying it in a Christmas market. Obviously. There’s also Christmas fudge, Christmas hot chocolate and Christmas popcorn.” I point to the different vendors as I list the foods.
Beau’s eyes glaze over. “There’stoomany choices here. How do you even decide anything in a market this big? We have a Christmas market but it’s about four stalls in our park. And it’s all just hot chocolate and candy canes.”
“There are over a hundred and seventy here.”
His eyes widen in panic.
“But you just have to take it section by section.” I pat him comfortingly on his arm. “And come back if you see something you want later.”
“There’s so much in a small area.” He shakes his head. “My mom’s actually from here. And she always complains about the lack of options at home. I guess I see where she’s coming from now. I don’t agree, but I get it.”
I lightly slap his arm, and my mouth falls open in shock. “You big hypocrite! All this time you’ve been giving the city flak and all along you’ve had city blood in you.” I poke the chest that holds all that blood.
“We try not to talk about the city blood. And no one is uncouth enough to bring it up to our faces.” He sticks his nose in the air, I hope facetiously.
“I don’t even know what to do with this new information, but it’s going to involve hot chocolate.”
I motion for him to stay in line so I can go get some of that. When I come back with two glasses, Beau raises an eyebrow in judgement.
“How much of that have you drank today?”
“It’s Christmas, Scrooge McGrinch. I can drink some hot chocolate. And one’s for you.” I hand him a cup and bounce on my heels in line, taking a sip of the magical liquid from the remaining cup.
“Oh, save our place. I’ve gotta get my new Christmas ornament for the year.” I get distracted by the ornament stall next to us. Thank god for long New York lines.
When I come back, multiple bags hanging off my arm and hot chocolate half gone, Beau starts laughing at me. “This is why parents limit their children’s chocolate intake.”
I sniff, my own nose firmly in the air. “I’m an adult and I can consume as much chocolate as I want. That is literally the only good thing about adulthood, which in general, kind of blows. Well, that and buying people presents.” I hand him a bag with a New York themed ornament in it...complete with painted Statue of Liberty, iconic yellow taxicab, bridges, and tall buildings.
Beau takes the bag, unwillingly. “Another present? But I don’t have anything for you.”
