I adjusted my wine-red pinafore with the flouncy short skirt, green trim, and wide black belt that matched my black boots. My hat sat jauntily on my head. “We are ready to spread some Christmas cheer!”
The farmer at the stall didn’t stop chewing on the toothpick in her mouth when she saw me.
“You Merrie?” she asked gruffly. Her overalls were stained with tree sap. She handed me a receipt book. “Cash only. Blue tags are fifty dollars, red are forty, and yellow are thirty. No, we don’t give out free trees. Branches for garland are sold by weight; scale is there.” She pointed.
I saluted. “Aye aye, Christmas tree captain.”
The farmer shook her head and took a sip from her thermos. “You’re on duty for the next few hours. I have to go pick up three sheep from the next town over.”
After the farmer left, a family of four came into the Christmas tree lot. The smell of snow, spruce, and smoke lingered in the cold.
“Merry Christmas!” I sang.
The mom scowled at me. “Do you have any hypoallergenic trees?”
I blanked. “Excuse me?”
“Bratleigh is allergic to trees.”
“He’s not allergic,” her husband said, not looking up from his phone. “You keep saying that, but he’s not; he’s allergic to your damn perfume.”
Geez. Way to ruin Christmas.
“I’m sure we can find a suitable tree,” I said, a smile firmly plastered to my face.
“These trees are dirty,” the little girl whined.
“We’re getting a tree!” her mom yelled at her.
“Feel free to take a look around,” I said, “and I’ll come help you once you find one you like.”
“Do you have any small trees?” an elderly woman asked, approaching the sales counter. “I want a small tree I can put in my outdoor catio for my babies.”
“How about this one?” I suggested, pointing at a bushy three-foot-tree.
The woman put on her spectacles. “That one’s too green.”
My smile was flagging. “It’s a Christmas tree…”
“Excuse me?” a young woman said. “Do you all have trees that are, like, different colors?”
“We have blue spruces,” I told her.
“I meant like purple.”
“We have our tree picked out,” three young college guys said.
“Okay,” I said, feeling frazzled. There was a line of people waiting to buy a tree.
I fumbled with my receipt book as the guys showed me the tree they wanted.
“That’s a nice twelve-footer,” I said as I took their money and wrote out the receipt. “Thank you for your business.”
They looked at me expectantly.
They can’t possibly…
“Our car is over there,” one said.
