Holden slid the articles of clothing across the counter toward their new employee, Brady. They’d thrown him on the register that morning, hoping he was up for training under pressure. So far, so good.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Mayor,” Holden said while Brady found the tags and started to scan.
“Same to you, Holden.” He wrapped his knuckles on the surface between them. Holden couldn’t help but sense the man’s quiet impatience.
The mayor looked at his watch.
“We’ll get you out of here soon,” Holden promised.
“Sorry,” Brady apologized. “It’s my first day working the cash register. I’m a little slow.”
“Oh, it’s not that. You’re doing just fine. I just got a call that our tree is finally here and I’m eager to organize things with the decorators.”
Brady read the total and began folding the items into a paper bag bearing the store’s logo.
“So, there is going to be a tree after all?” Holden asked.
“Believe it or not, we were able to secure one last minute.”
“That’s great news!”
Brady took the man’s credit card.
“Miracles come in all shapes and sizes,” Mayor Thornton said. “But in this case, in the shape of a giant Christmas tree.”
Holden grinned and wished him well, his heart even more at ease knowing the annual tradition would continue.
By four that afternoon, customers began to trickle out, most likely heading home to get ready for the night’s festivities. Holden figured he should do the same.
“You think we can close up?” Brady asked. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and blew out a breath.
They’d thrown him into the fire, no question about that. But he did great. After all, they were an extreme sports establishment. Might as well make a sport out of cashier work too.
“I think that would probably be fine.” Holden hollered at Lance, lost somewhere in the racks rehanging snowboard pants. “What do you think?”
He popped out from a particularly disheveled display. “I think I have a hot date that I’d love to have some extra time to get ready for.”
Holden scowled. “Please don’t ever refer to my sister as a hot date again.”
“Sorry, buddy.” He clipped the waistband of a pair of pants onto the hanger and jammed it into place on the stand. “Noted.”
They made quick work of straightening up the store and locked up within half an hour. Even Scout seemed to vibrate with anticipation over the night’s events, as though she could also sense the magic in the air.
It was definitely there, as if the wind sweeping over the summit was filled with holiday stardust.
Back at home, Holden spent longer than normal getting ready. He picked a cable-knit forest green sweater with a plaid flannel shirt underneath so the collar and cuffs peeked out like holiday trim. He slipped on a pair of khaki corduroy pants and his dressier boots. He even took time to shave the two-day scruff from his face and splashed a bit of cologne on his neck before bundling it up with a classic gray scarf.
Before he hopped in the truck to head to the square, he wrapped a bright red bow around Scout’s neck. She looked as pretty as a present.
“Ready to go, girl?”
By the time they arrived on Main Street, the crowds had already collected, the celebration in full swing. Scout sniffed a few friendly dogs as they threaded through the masses, and Holden greeted his friends and neighbors with handshakes and hugs.
He could glimpse the tree at the far end of the square, but without lights to illuminate it, the dark silhouette almost faded into the shadows.
“How are they selling?” he asked as he came up to Trinity’s pop-up tent. Only a handful of wreaths hung from the poles.
“I’m down to just a dozen left,” she answered. “I think I’ll be sold out before the lighting even happens.”
