by T. I. Lowe
“I guess I could help you out, Miss Lulu.” Jessup swayed in place when he nodded.
Lulu grabbed a large grocery bag full of toiletries that was stashed behind the counter and hurried to give it to him.
He peeped inside. “That’s mighty kind of you.”
“Now don’t go wasting my kindness, Jessup.” She waved him out the door.
“No, ma’am.” He placed both bags into his rectangular basket and haphazardly climbed onto his big tricycle. From the front window of the café, the ladies watched as he slowly made his way over to a bench by the river to eat lunch and inspect his free loot from Lulu.
That afternoon at closing time, Lulu and Leah were cleaning up when Crowley ambled in, laughing.
“What’s so blame funny, boy?” Lulu asked as she continued to wipe down the counter.
Crowley stood by the front windows. “Looks like Jessup is trying to turn the river into one gigantic bubble bath.”
This got the two women’s attention, and they quickly made it over to the windows. They saw Jessup, waist-deep in the river, with a thick ring of foam encircling him. His hair stuck straight out all over his head, covered in more white foam.
“No. That fool is wasting my kindness, is what he’s doing.” Lulu slapped her palm on the counter, making both Crowley and Leah laugh harder. “He is supposed to get his nasty butt cleaned up with that stuff.”
“Looks like he’s washing to me, Lulu,” Crowley said, causing Leah to laugh more as he joined in.
“The two of you laugh it up.” Lulu clutched at the ruffles of her frilly apron. “You think fishy river water is gonna help get the stench off his hide?”
Crowley shrugged. “It’s got to be better than nothing.”
“Yes. Then he’s gonna climb out and put back on those beer-stained, sour-smelling clothes. Yes, Crowley Mason, that’s got to be better than nothing,” Lulu said.
Crowley bolted out the door and ran across the street to the riverbank. The six-foot, four-inch giant was comically trying to look inconspicuous. The two ladies watched as he gathered up the filthy clothes Jessup had left by the liquor-cycle. Jessup had his back to the riverbank, so Crowley was able to grab the clothing undetected. He held the clothes out at arm’s length and jogged about three storefronts down, dumping them into a garbage bin. He turned and jogged back to Lulu’s and headed straight to the kitchen, still holding his hands out.
Hands on her hips, Lulu shook her head when he blazed past her. “What are you doing now?”
“Bleaching my hands!”
A few minutes later, Crowley came back into the dining area, smelling like bleach and grinning. “You’re welcome,” he said to Lulu.
“Yes, Crowley. Thank you for going and getting that drunk arrested again for streaking through town.”
The again caught Leah’s attention. She wondered if this was a recurring problem.
“Getting arrested ain’t a bad deal for Jessup. He gets a clean bed and three square meals a day.” Crowley reached out and pretended to punch Lulu’s shoulder.
The feisty lady slapped his hand away and pointed at a stool. “Sit down and behave yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Crowley did as he was told and shot Lulu an exaggerated grin. She answered with a stern frown.
Leah was amused at how the tiny Lulu was giving Crowley a run for his money. She detected that Crowley found it amusing too. Leah was relieved that the little woman did know how to frown, as she caught Lulu shooting Crowley a look that Leah hoped she’d never encounter for something she did.
“He’ll be okay. He’s got his tighty-whities on. . . .” Crowley paused. They glanced back out the window and watched as Jessup, dripping wet, pedaled away from the river. He seemed to give no thought to the disappearance of his clothes.
“Well, tighty-tans are more like it.” Crowley laughed and looked at Lulu. “Some airing out will do him good.” He jumped up from the stool and popped his head out the side door as Jessup passed by. “Be sure to put some deodorant on!” Crowley yelled.
Jessup raised a hand in acknowledgment and continued to pedal down the street.
As she headed into the kitchen, Lulu muttered, “Putting perfume on a pig.”
12
LEAH WAS SICK and tired and aggravated and couldn’t stand it any longer. She truly hated to ask Lulu to help her out with it, considering she’d already asked so much of the generous woman. But by closing time a week after Thanksgiving, she saw no other choice.
“Lulu, I can’t take this another second or I think I may have to scream.” Leah raised her casted arm.
Lulu laughed. “I’ll see what I can do about that.” She went back to reheating a large bowl of her famous tomato herb soup and grilling two cheese sandwiches.
“Who is that for? It’s closing time.” Leah paused before heading up the stairs.
“Crowley. He had a long day. He should be here soon.”
Before Leah could ask why, a tall man dressed in an expensive dark-blue suit sauntered through the door and relocked it behind him. She was taken aback to realize it was none other than Crowley Mason.
“Someone die?” Leah asked Lulu.
Crowley said, “No, but I’m sure the defense lawyer is going to wish he had, by the time his client gets done cussing him out.”
“I take it the judge ruled in your favor,” Lulu said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, congratulations, young man,” Lulu said as she served him his late lunch.
“Thank you. I’m starving.” Crowley loosened his designer tie and quickly tucked into his meal. Leah just stood there, shocked that he actually had shoes on that covered his toes. His unruly locks had been styled with gel.
She had noticed his unusual greenish-blue eyes before, but they seemed especially striking without his trademark ball cap pulled low over them. She had to admit that he had a certain rugged handsomeness. His sandy-blond hair was several shades lighter at the tips, due, she supposed, to sun exposure at the beach. His square jaw, usually accented with a touch of beard stubble, was clean-shaven. She stared for a moment and then made her way upstairs, thinking her cast could wait. She had felt slightly intimidated by Crowley from the get-go, but now she felt completely overwhelmed by him.
Leah headed straight for her after-work shower. Forty minutes later, she was freshly dressed in a favorite pair of yoga pants and a wide-sleeved black tunic. She was about to cozy up on the sofa to read when she heard a knock. She opened the door to find Crowley leaning on the doorframe. He was holding a mini Dremel rotary tool and a pair of scissors.
“Someone order a cast removal?” he asked as he waved the tools in front of her.
Leah held her hand out to take the tools. “Thank you.”
He ignored her and walked on into the apartment. He pointed to one of the chairs at the dining room table and told her to have a seat. Crowley set the tools on the table before removing his suit coat and neatly placing it across the rocking chair. He removed his tie and tucked it into one of the coat pockets.
Leah noticed the Hugo Boss label and tried not to be impressed. “You’re a little overdressed for a cast removal.”
“I can manage a cast removal just fine in a suit.” Crowley rolled his shirtsleeves up.
“You and Lulu are a lot alike.”
“From spending too much time together.” He pulled his seat closer to her left arm and sat down. He tried to lay her arm on the table so that he could get a good look at the cast, but she was hesitant at letting him.
“It’s okay. I’m an expert. I once removed my own cast the very same way,” Crowley reassured her with a slight smile that reached nowhere near his vivid eyes.
“How’d you break your arm?” She reluctantly placed her casted arm on the table.
“Skateboarding accident. I was trying to be like Tony Hawk and pull off this epic stunt,” he said. “Lesson learned.” He nodded meaningfully as he turned on the battery-operated tool, which whined like a dental dril
l.
“What lesson was that?” Leah cautiously eyed the little saw closing in on her arm.
“I’m not Tony Hawk.”
“So you broke yours when you were a teenager?” she asked, a little worried that it had been a long time since he performed his cast removal. The saw blade looked dangerously sharp. She was no wimp but had no desire for unnecessary pain. She felt she had already endured enough of that mess to last a lifetime.
“Nope. Just last year,” he said. “And no, I’m not too old to skateboard.” Crowley flashed a mouth full of perfectly white, straight teeth, causing Leah to hold her breath without realizing it. “How’d you break your arm?” he asked with a look that revealed he knew he wouldn’t receive a proper answer.
Leah answered him as honestly as she could afford. “Stupid accident.”
“How ’bout we get rid of this stupid reminder then.” Crowley pushed the little saw blade into the cast. Once the saw passed over the length of the cast, he used the scissors to snip through the protective gauze wrapping between the hard outer shell and Leah’s arm.
With the cast removed, Leah sighed and satisfyingly scratched over her itchy arm. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Before Leah could pull her arm off the table, Crowley caught a glimpse of the burn scar on the palm of her hand that had been hidden under the cast. It covered a good portion of her palm. He gathered her hand, palm side up, into his hand to inspect it. Running his index finger along it, he asked, “What on earth caused that?”
Leah tugged her hand free from Crowley’s hold. “Another accident. Happened over four years ago. It’s all healed up now, but I just can’t get rid of its reminder.” Unable to meet his intense gaze, she tried to laugh, but it fell miserably flat.
After a long moment passed in silence, Crowley shook his head and stood.
“Thank you again, Crowley. I know you’ve been working all day and have to be tired, so it was kind of you to do this for me.”
“No big deal.” He picked up the cast and threw it away in the kitchen trash.
“How long have you been a lawyer?”
He paused by the table to gather up his tools. “I was born a lawyer, but I’ve been licensed for ten years. I battled my way through being a criminal prosecutor for nearly six years before I hit a complete burnout. Being surrounded by scumbags day in and day out is for the birds. I just handle your run-of-the-mill law stuff now like divorces, wills, and estate settlements. Sometimes my lawyer buddies upstate talk me into taking second chair on a big case they are tackling.” He scooped up his jacket and draped it neatly across his arm.
“Is that what you did today?” Leah asked. The guy had totally surprised her. A skateboarding lawyer . . .
He opened his mouth to answer but stopped. “What’s this, twenty questions? Is my turn next?”
She shut up quickly. “Thank you again,” she said.
Crowley took this as his dismissal and headed out the door. “No problem.” He waved without turning back and was gone.
The following week, it hit without warning in a pretty remarkable way. The full-blown Christmas season had entwined its way into every nook and cranny of Rivertown. The entire town was full of tradition and festivity. The paper devoted an entire section to reporting all the coming events. There would be a cookie swap at the bookstore with free coffee served to the participants, a live Nativity scene would be on display each Thursday and Friday night at the First Baptist Church, and the annual floating Christmas parade on the river would be the night of the Christmas Jubilee. The festivities list was endless.
The town was all abuzz about the traditional Christmas decorating contest. Leah discovered that Lulu took the contest very seriously. Lulu even hired a few part-time holiday helpers. She had Leah and the helpers drape twinkly white lights from every surface, inside and out. The dining tables were covered in beautiful patchwork tablecloths, made up with various deep reds, olive greens, creams, and golden tones. The café staff wore matching aprons with rows of color-coordinating ruffles at the bottom and Merry Christmas, Y’all embroidered across the front. Elegant salt and pepper shakers, shaped like Christmas trees, sat on top of each table. Lulu also ordered Crowley to shuffle the tables around a bit to make room for an enormous tree to be placed up front. It took several days to cover with lights and ornaments and ribbons. Old-fashioned Christmas carols spilled from the café’s speakers from the day after Thanksgiving until New Year’s Eve.
Leah was astonished at the town’s transition. Lulu went the traditional route with her decor, and Ana went completely in the other direction. Her main color scheme was hot pink and lime green with accents of zebra print and silver. She had incorporated brightly colored feathers and beads in the same color scheme in her artificial white tree and wreaths. Leah loved it and had secretly cast her vote for Ana. A large voting booth had been set up by the bank, where security cameras could keep an eye on it. Yep, the town took their decorating contest very seriously.
The bookstore was another one of Leah’s favorites. Nick, the owner, decorated several three-foot trees in various book themes. Leah’s favorite was the apple tree, with lots of different herbs tucked along the branches, created to honor Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen. Leah had fallen in love with her magical stories. There were many more book-themed trees on display, and people enjoyed grabbing a cup of coffee and walking around, admiring the trees like they were pieces of artwork, which Leah considered them to be.
The drugstore, bank, church, and library went with the simple tradition of green garlands and white lights.Not a storefront—or home, for that matter—went bare.
Crowley jumped on board too. Multicolored icicle lights hung from the roof and porch of the brick town house. Green garland, with more multicolored lights, neatly draped from the porch banisters and around the doorframe. In the small yard off to the side, he had placed three Christmas trees in a staggered triangle—one twelve-footer, an eight-footer, and a four-footer. He had the local teens decorate them in different themes. The girls covered the eight-foot-tall tree in all glitter and gold. Crowley commented that it could be used as the disco ball at the holiday dance, causing the girls to giggle. The boys tackled the smallest tree quite literally with sports-themed decorations Crowley had personally ordered at their request. They also wanted blue twinkle lights on their tree. The grandest tree was a group effort covered with multicolored lights and all types of toys. Leah and Lulu watched in amusement as the kids, resembling a bunch of elves, surrounded the giant tree with stepladders of various heights. Each tree had a sign posted in front identifying it, to the kids’ delight. The girls’ tree was “The Disco Tree,” the boys’ tree was named “The Sports Fan Tree,” and the group tree was called “Santa’s Workshop Tree.” The project took an entire Saturday to complete. After the youth revealed their creations at sunset, Lulu and Leah treated them to homemade popcorn balls and warm mulled apple cider.
Leah tried to isolate herself from all of the holiday cheer to no avail. Lulu would have none of that and dragged her out into the midst of it all. Leah gladly stayed after closing to help prepare the treats for the youth but insisted on not helping deliver. Of course, she ended up doing as Lulu said and stood in Crowley’s yard for several hours getting to know some pretty great kids. One of the kids cranked up some music at one point, and everyone broke out in dance around the trees. Once that began, Leah snuck back to her apartment.
Her heart weighed heavily throughout that holiday season. Although the town merrily twinkled, the only things twinkling in Leah’s apartment were the endless tears shed each night. Leah was haunted by the never-ending, tormenting thoughts of how different this time could have been.
Her belly should have been protruding impressively out with the ripening of her healthy baby, but instead it was sadly deflated. She should have been tucking presents under her tree for her soon-to-be-born daughter. She would have had the nursery ready by now, stocked full of diapers, wipes, and frilly outfits . .
. if only she had lived in a different world than the one she had unbearably gotten stuck in. She should have been gazing at a Christmas tree as she rocked, happily placing her hand on her belly to feel her baby bumping and kicking. Instead, Leah was wrapped in a tight ball of withering despair, in a dark, lonely bed with her head on a damp pillow.
On Christmas Eve, the town’s youth, children and teens alike, participated in the traditional Christmas Carol Hayride. Piled into the back of a long trailer filled with hay bales, the youth were pulled by a decorated antique red Farmall tractor, driven by none other than Crowley Mason.
Lulu had roped a very unwilling Leah into participating in the event. Lulu always provided refreshments, which included every cookie you could imagine and rich hot chocolate, in the riverside park for the carolers. Both women had spent the better part of the day baking cookies and prepping large silver urns full of Lulu’s secret recipe for hot chocolate, which she gladly shared with Leah. Lulu also did her best to make the cookie recipes as healthy as possible, but she admitted to Leah that there was just so much you could do.
“It’s the holidays, so some splurging won’t hurt,” Lulu said as she arranged the treats on beautiful silver platters.
They loaded two large urns on top of a rolling cart and placed the platters underneath. Then they pushed it over to the park, having to make two trips for all of the cookies and urns, to where they had earlier draped foldout tables with patchwork tablecloths.
The two ladies tied on their decorative aprons and manned their stations. Leah gladly volunteered to serve the hot chocolate. She was sick of looking at cookies. Leah had splurged a bit too much when Lulu wasn’t looking and had earned herself a minor bellyache. Lulu handed her a small basket of Christmas-themed ceramic coffee mugs to place on the hot chocolate table.
“We may need more mugs than this, don’t you think?” Leah looked down at the mere half-dozen mugs.
“Oh . . . no, dear. Everyone knows to bring their own. These are just in case someone forgets theirs.”