When Astrid reappeared, she was holding a cashmere sweater in a luscious deep teal. It had a keyhole neckline tied with a bow, and elbow-length sleeves.
“Isn’t this yummy? It’ll be spectacular with your coloring.”
Kerry ran her hand down the fabric. “How much?”
“It’s not that expensive,” the salesgirl said. “It’s marked way down because we’re already starting to get in our spring resort wear.”
“How bad is not bad?”
“One eighty-nine,” Astrid said, handing her the sweater. “Go put it on. I swear, it’s like this thing was waiting for you to walk in here and take it home.”
In the dressing room, Kerry removed her shirt and blazer and pulled the sweater over her head.
She held her breath when she turned to look in the mirror. The fit was perfect. The color was lovely, and the cashmere was softer than a baby’s sigh. She was changing back to her own clothes when she heard her phone ding to signal an incoming text. It was from Murphy, and in true Murphy form, it was short and to the point.
WHERE THE HELL R U?
“How’d you like it?” Astrid asked, pushing aside the curtain.
“I’ll take it, but I have to get back to work, like now,” Kerry said.
She followed the girl to the cash register and handed her the gift card.
“Do you work around here?” Astrid asked, as she rang up the sale.
“I’m working at our family’s Christmas tree stand on Abingdon Square. My brother just texted me that I need to get back there.”
“Wait. Is your brother Murphy?”
Kerry answered the question with another question. “You know my brother?”
Astrid laughed and flashed a dimple. “Honey, everybody in the neighborhood knows Murphy Tolliver. My boyfriend and I always get our trees from y’all.”
She wrapped the sweater in tissue and slipped it into a glossy shopping bag.
Kerry reached for the bag.
“Wait,” Astrid said. She darted over to a jewelry display. When she came back, she dropped something into the bag.
“That’s a little sercy from one Tarheel to another,” she said. “We can’t have you going out tonight without some pretty new earrings.”
“Now I know you’re a Southerner,” Kerry said. “I’ve never met anybody from outside North Carolina who knows that a sercy is a gift.”
“Like a lagniappe, if you’re from New Orleans,” Astrid agreed.
“But I can’t let you do this,” Kerry protested.
“Already done,” the girl said. “At my price, they’re practically free anyway.”
“Thanks,” Kerry said. “And when you come get your tree, I’ll throw in a free wreath.”
“It’s a deal,” Astrid said.
chapter 26
Kerry was half a block away from Abingdon Square when she spotted the crowd. People were swarming around the Christmas tree stand, waiting in line on the sidewalk, taking selfies in front of theTOLLIVER FAMILY CHRISTMAS TREE FARMsign and standing beside Spammy.
“What on earth?” she murmured, breaking into a trot, and then a full-out dash.
