For fuck’s sake.
I sighed, adjusted my hat on my head, then crouched and deadlifted the heavy Christmas tree over to the machine that wrapped it in a mesh bag.
My arms ached as I slowly dragged the tree over to the car and, after several failed attempts, hoisted it on top.
“Merry Christmas,” I said, out of breath, as they climbed in their car.
I do not exercise enough to have taken this job, I realized when I was on my third Christmas tree. I had pine needles in my hair and tree sap on my clothes.
I’m going to have to burn these.
My hair was snarled around my face, and I had lost my hat. No wonder the farmer was wearing overalls.
“I honestly don’t know what Matt sees in you.” Like the Wicked Witch of the North, Hensley appeared through the trees. “Look at you—you’re like a little street urchin.”
“Go away.”
“I’m a customer,” she said, offended. “And I have a very large tree I want to buy.”
“There’s a line,” I told her, hefting the Christmas tree in front of me.
Hensley followed me over to the mesh bagging machine.
“I bet you got all dressed up because you thought you were going to surprise Matt after this,” she sneered. “I’ll have you know not to waste your time. He and I are getting back together.”
“I don’t think he wants Brody’s sloppy seconds,” I retorted, flicking on the machine.
Hensley was irate; she stamped her black stiletto boot. “Brody and I were never a couple.”
“Why, because he dumped you as soon as you told him Matt left you?”
“No!” she shrieked. “Because I am not good enough for him. Honestly, he’s such a slob. I know he’s dating your mother, by the way. It’s pathetic. If he wants to go for someone that desperate, I don’t want to have anything to do with him. You’re just like your mom, too, you know—throwing yourself at a man who is clearly out of your league. Her and all those feral cats. Brody’s just using her. Just like Matt is using you. He’s just trying to make me jealous. As if I would ever be jealous of someone like you.”
I picked up the bagged Christmas tree; it bounced off my legs as I made my way to a couple’s car.
“I’m not with Matt,” I told her, “and a big reason is that I don’t want to be with someone who thinks dating you is a good idea. It just screams ‘terrible decision maker.’”
“I come from a very good family,” she hissed at me as I hefted the tree on top of the station wagon.
“If you come from such a nice family,” I said sweetly, “you can load your own damn tree on your car.”
“I’m taking my business elsewhere,” Hensley huffed at me.
Good fucking riddance.
My phone rang as I was bagging another Christmas tree. My mom had been calling me all day. I didn’t know what to say to her. For fuck’s sake, what if she married Brody? I’d have to spend every Christmas with them.
I was hungry, sweaty, bedraggled, and tired when the farmer finally showed up with three sheep in the back of her pickup truck.
I handed her the receipt book and the pouch of cash.
“See you another night?” she asked. “I could use the help. Christmas is crazy.”
“You can just send me a message through the app,” I said and began the long slow painful walk back to my shop. I wanted to go back to Matt’s condo and take a super-hot shower then a bath then watch Christmas movies on his couch with him and his dog. I’d eat cookies and let him snuggle me and kiss my hair and listen to the laugh deep in his chest when I made an unsavory comment about one of the characters on the screen.
And this is why we are not making out with him. We are not giving him signals or making a first move. All you want him for is to make your life easier. It makes you no better than Hensley, I told myself firmly.You need to grow up.
48
