Susan Mallery: Christmas on 4th Street

“Hey, you in there! It’s freezing out here.”

The comment came from outside and was accompanied by an insistent knocking. Noelle squared her shoulders.

“Okay,” she said as she marched to the front of the store. “I’m ready.”

“Me, too.”

Although it turned out he was wrong. He wasn’t ready. There was no way to be ready for the onslaught of customers. They arrived in groups of twos and threes, they lingered and they bought. Bears and trains, CDs and throws. No corner of the store went unexplored. If he wasn’t restocking, he was bagging. Every now and then he carried bags to a waiting car.

“Excuse me, young man.”

Gabriel turned and saw a pleasant-looking woman leaning heavily on a cane covered with painted purple flowers.

“Yes, ma’am. How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a menorah for a friend of mine and I noticed the one in the side window. It’s so pretty. Having it made of glass is very unusual and I like that the candles are all different colors. Can you get it for me?”

“Of course,” he said, already heading for the stockroom. “We have one in a box.”

He passed Noelle, who smiled wearily. Five minutes later, the lady with the cane had her menorah and was heading out of the store. He was about to check on the bears when another woman stopped him.

“You’re Gabriel,” she said, eyeing him. She had white curls and wore a bright purple track suit. “Gideon’s brother.”

“Yes.”

“I’m Eddie.” She smiled. “I need you to carry this to my car.”

She handed him a box about the size of a soda can. He stared at it.

“You want me to carry that?”

“Uh-huh.” Eddie nodded. “I’m old so you have do what I say. Come on. The day’s a-wasting.”

He had no idea what was going on, but wasn’t about to tell the seventy-something woman no. She led him out of the store and down the sidewalk. They walked to the corner and she pointed to a late model sedan. When they reached it, he handed her the package.

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Still confused about what she’d wanted, he turned, only to feel her pat his butt. He spun back. Her expression was both innocent and satisfied.

No, he told himself. He’d imagined the light touch. And if he hadn’t, there was nothing he could do about it.

“Ah, have a nice day,” he mumbled before backing toward the store.

The steady stream of customers continued until Noelle closed and locked the door at six-fifteen. They’d both been on their feet since seven that morning.

“My feet hurt,” she said, untying her apron. “My back hurts and I’m starving.”

“Me, too, and an old lady patted my butt.”

Noelle looked at him and started laughing. “You’re making that up.”

“I swear it happened.”

“Eddie or Gladys.”

“Eddie.”

“Then I believe you. Did you get lunch?”

“No.”

“Me, either. Want to come by my place? I’ll order the biggest pizza you’ve ever seen. You’ll love it.”

She had a smudge on her cheek and dust on her jeans. She looked as weary as he felt. But as she invited him over, all he could think was that what he really wanted for dinner was her. Because when he was around her, the world somehow righted itself. Even if he was being harassed by seniors.

For a second he wondered what she would say if he told her the truth. He figured he was at even odds for her wanting the same and slapping him. Which meant the most sensible course was to say, “Pizza sounds great.”

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