“I see where Charlotte gets her skills,” he practically spat out. Hearing his tone, he amended it immediately. “You’re much better at this than I am.” He handed her the boxes he’d retrieved from the floor.
She laughed. “It’s the other way around. She had to teach me everything about product presentation when she first opened. I had no idea so much went into things like this.” She waved at the end-cap. “But now I appreciate how much thought went into it.” She slightly twisted one of the boxes so it lined up.
“I’ll bet she did,” he mumbled. Charlotte and her perfect, beautiful package hid the miserly wish-hoarding woman inside. He suddenly had the urge to flee from Michelle. What would she say to him if she knew what he thought about her daughter?
Michelle stood back and scrutinized their work–her work. “Not bad. If we’re not careful, they’ll offer us a job,” she teased.
Micah stared at her. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
She blinked as if the question didn’t make any sense.
“You don’t have to be. You can ignore me if you want,” he offered.
“For knocking over air fresheners?” she asked, aghast. “I’m not that invested in the display.” She waved her hand at the perfectly lined up boxes.
Shoot. Now what was he supposed to say? “No. I–I guess Charlotte didn’t tell you we, uh, had a disagreement.” He cupped the back of his very red, very hot neck. “Last night. After the pageant fell apart.”
Michelle’s confused look morphed into one of compassion. “I haven’t talked to Charlotte. I helped clean up the hot chocolate stand, and she opened early this morning. Are you okay?” She leaned closer, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You seem upset about it.”
Micah leaned away, taken aback by her kindness. “Shouldn’t you be chasing me out of town with a torch and pitchfork?”
Michelle narrowed her eyes. “Why? What did you do?”
Micah huffed. “Nothing.” His shoulders fell. “Everything.”
“There’s a confession if I’ve ever heard one.” She pushed her cart to the side and then moved his while he paced in front of the dishwasher soap. With Christmas only days away, the store was full, and shopping carts overflowed. No one wanted to be here when they could be home with family.
“I just can’t get on board with her outlook on life.” He glanced over to see how his declaration landed. Michelle took it in stride. Out of everyone, Charlotte’s mother probably saw most of her Christmas obsession.
“I realize it’s a lot–but she’s passionate. And because of that, she’s brought so much joy to the world. I didn’t think she could build The Christmas Shop into a viable business, but she did, and I’m amazed by her every day.”
Micah nodded. He hadn’t seen her at other times of the year. “She said Christmas is all year long for her–does she wear reindeer antlers to the 4th of July parade or anything?”
Michelle laughed. “Goodness–no. Wouldn’t that be a sight?”
As much as Micah wanted to write her off as crazy–he couldn’t line up the dots. Michelle was right. Charlotte’s business was Christmas. There was more to it than that, but not to the point that he could use it as an excuse to steer clear of her. The balloon of anger he’d held tight to deflated. Grasping, he reached for the other side of the argument. “Did you know she and Lizzie asked for the same thing for Christmas?”
Michelle’s brows pulled together. “The house on the corner of Derby Road and 34th Street?” Michelle stated with a soft sigh. “It’s been her dream.”
“Yeah, well. She’s stubborn about it.”
Michelle flapped her hand. “You have no idea. I’ve tried to talk her out of that house until my throat ached.”
“What is her deal?” he asked, instantly wishing he’d softened his tone. Strange. He never noticed his tone before, and now he couldn’t stop hearing it. When had he become such a curmudgeon? He used to be the fun uncle–the one the kids couldn’t wait to see.
“I blame her father; may he rest in peace,” Michelle said softly. “He was always doing projects around the house. Some worked, and some didn’t–feel free to drive by and look at the tree stump in our yard that he’d planned to carve into a grizzly bear or something with a chainsaw.” She looked up to heaven as if drawing strength. “Charlotte was his helper. He bought her a tool belt and everything. The two of them would light up whenever they’d pass that house. They dreamed of fixing it up together.”
Oh no. No. This was bad. Micah’s stomach twisted. “So the house is her connection to him?”
Michelle nodded slowly. “I think she’s holding on to it because it’s her way of holding on to him and all their shared dreams. She did everything she could to buy it before he passed, but came short. It almost broke her.”
Micah rubbed his gut. The sense that he’d been unfair to Charlotte overwhelmed him. He didn’t know what the house represented to her. He should have listened better. He should have asked her why she wanted it so badly instead of telling her to give it up.
Charlotte lived in the same town all her life. She spent time with her family–time she valued. She wasn’t the type to have a crazy dream just for the sake of it. All that talk about rolling the house into her business … was that part of her and her dad’s plan? A hope that kept her going through the hard days?
He was such a jerk.
And Lizzie? What did she see in that place?
