Wreck The Halls

by Jeff Shelby

  Apparently, most of the other folks in the suburbs had the same idea, as the parking lot was jammed and the interior of the mall wasn't much better. We agreed that they had an hour to get their shopping done and I sent them on their way.

  I picked up the three things I needed—a sweater for Jake, a video game for Will, and a puzzle for Grace—and then headed to the food court for coffee. I'd just picked up my drink when I turned to find a familiar face in line.

  Ava Bradshaw seemed to be stalking me.

  She noticed me at the same time I noticed her and neither of us knew what to do. Finally, she broke the awkwardness and held up a hand in a half-hearted greeting. “Hi, Daisy. Again.”

  “We keep meeting,” I said. “And here.”

  She rolled her eyes and then held up her full hands again. “What can I say? I leave most of my shopping until the last minute.”

  I smiled. I didn't want another confrontation with her, and we hadn't parted on great terms the last time we'd spoken. So I nodded and kept moving until I found an empty table near the window.

  I was surprised then when Ava stopped at my table.

  She shuffled her feet for a moment and readjusted her packages. “I, uh, I wanted to apologize for my reaction when we last spoke.”

  “No need,” I told her. “Really.”

  She looked relieved. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “I did have another question for you, though,” I said, unable to resist. “And it's kind of an odd one.”

  She looked at me, wary. “Odd?”

  “Did you ever steal a turkey?”

  The color immediately rushed into her cheeks. “Where did you hear that?” Then she realized the answer on her own. “Of course. You checked my records.”

  “I didn't,” I told her. “I can't do that.”

  “But someone did,” she said. She set her drink down on my table and sat down in the chair across from me. “Yes. I once stole an oversized turkey.”

  I sipped from my coffee and listened.

  “It was in college,” she said. “I was working for this car dealership and my friends dared me to steal the big stuffed turkey from the dealership across the street. It was Thanksgiving and both dealerships were decorated. I was dating a guy who worked there.” She shook her head. “It was dumb. I went to meet him one night before his shift ended. He was locking up and I grabbed it and shoved it in the trunk of my car.” She frowned. “Unfortunately, he liked his job more than he liked me and the next day, he realized I'd taken it. But instead of calling me, he and his manager called the police.” She shook her head again. “I brought it back, but I was cited anyway. It meant nothing and, it was completely embarrassing and when I was working, I would have to mention it on job applications because it's stayed on my record.” She forced a smile that she clearly wasn't feeling. “A lifetime of trouble for about ten minutes of stupidity.”

  “It sounds like it,” I said. “I'm sorry. That is sort of rotten.”

  She nodded slowly. “It is rotten.” Then she looked at me. “And I learned my lesson.”

  I didn't say anything.

  She looked at her coffee for a moment. “I was angry at Oliver and everyone in that room that night. I really was. And I lost it. I know I did. I said a lot of things and probably in the moment, I meant them. I'll never forgive them for what they took from me.” She paused. “But I haven't stolen a thing. I didn't have anything to do with it. No matter how angry I was, I wouldn't have done it.” She paused. “I learned my lesson a long time ago and I don't ever plan on repeating that mistake.”

  I had to say, she was very convincing. She seemed earnest and sorry and believable. I didn't see anything in her body language or hear anything in her words that made me doubt what she was saying. She may have been the most likely suspect, but I no longer thought Ava Bradshaw had anything to do with the missing decorations.

  “I believe you,” I told her.

  She glanced at me, surprised. “Really?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah. Really.”

  She took a deep breath and sighed. “Good. Thank you.”

  “But you don't have any idea who might've stolen them?” I asked. “I mean, you are the person most connected to the festival and the parade. If anyone else had reason to throw a wrench in the works, I feel like you would know who that person would be.”

  She thought for a moment. “I'm not sure it's appropriate to say.”

  “Appropriate?”

  “It's just conjecture on my part,” she said. “I don't have any real evidence. Just a gut feeling. I learned about something just recently and it struck me as...interesting.”

  “I'm not following what you're saying,” I told her.

  “And people talk,” she said, standing up. “People love to talk. So I've heard their names come up.”

  “Names?” I said. “Plural?”

  Ava nodded. “Names. Plural.”

  “Whose names?”

  Ava looked unsure of herself. “I'm really not sure I should say anything. It might be nothing. It might just be Moose River getting carried away like usual.”

  I waited.

  “But I can't help but wonder if Nora Berg and Bert Peterson didn't have something to do with it,” she finally said.

  “Nora and Bert?” I repeated, realizing it was now the second time they'd both been accused of being involved. “Together?”

  “I don't know,” she said, gathering up her bags. “I just...” She paused, looking out into the mall. “I just have a feeling. And I need to get moving. I'll see you, Daisy.”

  I watched her walk out of the coffee shop before I could ask her anything else.

  NINETEEN

  Nora Berg and Bert Peterson.

  The first time Oliver mentioned them, it seemed like it was out of spite. He was angry with his ex-wife and he knew that Bert was angry with him, too. He was throwing names at the wall to see if any stuck.

  But now Ava had said the same thing.

  Nora and Bert.

  I thought that was...interesting.

  I was pondering that when the girls returned to the coffee shop, right on time.

  “We got everything,” Emily informed me. “But Grace ate the chocolate she bought for Jake.”

  Grace frowned. “I said I'd buy him some more.” She looked at me. “I got hungry.”

  “I had a piece, too,” Sophie said.

  “It's fine,” I told them. “We can pick up some more at the drug store back home.”

  “My stomach was all rumbly and Emily wouldn't buy me a hamburger.” Grace’s lower lip quivered.

  “Because you didn't need one and you wanted ice cream, too,” Emily said.

  Grace shrugged. “I get hungry.”

  “It's fine,” I repeated. “Are we ready to go?”

  “We wanna do the photo booth,” Grace announced.

  “The photo booth?”

  “They have one of those old time booths,” Emily said. “Where you sit in it and it has a curtain and stuff? It prints the pictures out?”

  “We were going to take them and give them to my dad,” Sophie said.

  I hesitated because I was really ready to go.

  “It won't take long,” Emily said. “Just a couple of minutes, and it's right around the corner.”

  The fact that she was telling me this also told me she was onboard with doing it. It seemed so infrequent that all three girls agreed on anything that I decided I better not let the moment pass.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let's go find the photo booth.”

  They led me out of the coffee shop and around the corner, past the food court, toward an atrium area with kiosks and the photo booth. I didn't recall seeing it before and I assumed they'd brought it in especially for the holidays.

  The booth was already occupied, so the girls left their bags with me and went and stood near it, so they'd be next.

  I could see two pairs of legs behind the curtain of the booth and I heard a few laughs coming from
inside of it.

  I checked my watch.

  I really did want to get going. I still had gifts to wrap and cookies to bake, and we would apparently be needing to stop somewhere to pick up some more chocolate.

  Emily glanced at me, frowning. She waved her hand at the booth. She was impatient, too.

  “Just give it a minute,” I told her.

  I liked that they had come up with the idea on their own for Jake, and I knew he'd think it was cute to get a few pictures of the girls making goofy faces.

  More laughing from the booth.

  And a squeal.

  Emily made a face.

  Sophie and Grace both had their arms crossed and were tapping their feet.

  There was some whispering inside the booth, then some more laughing.

  Emily turned around and looked at me.

  I shrugged.

  Then the curtain on the booth opened and I did a double take.

  Nora Berg stumbled out of the booth with a big smile on her face, her hair slightly disheveled, dabbing at the corners of her mouth.

  Bert Peterson came out behind her, still laughing, and lipstick on his cheek and around his own lips.

  Their smiles quickly dissolved when they saw me.

  Nora and Bert.

  Once again.

  TWENTY

  The girls either didn't recognize them or didn't care, as they scurried past them and into the booth, yanking the curtain closed.

  I stepped closer to Bert and Nora before they could walk away. “Well, hello.”

  They looked at one another, both of them clearly unsure of what to say. Nora's face was a bright shade of pink and Bert just kept running his hand over the top of his hair.

  “Daisy,” Nora finally said. “What a...surprise.”

  I nodded. “Yes. What a surprise.”

  Her face flushed again.

  Bert stood up a little taller. “This is ridiculous, Nora. We are adults. We have nothing to be ashamed of.” He nodded at me. “Hello, Daisy.”

  “Bert,” I said.

  Nora seemed to be having trouble taking Bert's words to heart. She was shuffling her feet and her eyes were bouncing between Bert and me.

  “I'm serious, Nora,” Bert said. “It's time to stop hiding this from everyone. I want people to know.”

  She pursed her lips.

  “My daughters were waiting to use the photo booth,” I told them. “That's why I'm standing here.”

  They both turned around to look at the booth, like they'd already forgotten it was there.

  Nora turned back around. “Bert and I are together,” she blurted.

  “Oh,” I said. “Okay.”

  He slid his hand into hers. “Yes. We're together.”

  “It's truly none of my business,” I said. “I'm just here with my daughters.”

  “We didn't mean for it to happen,” Nora said, apparently uninterested in the fact that it was none of my business. “But, sometimes...the heart wants what the heart wants.” They looked at each other and smiled.

  “Really,” I assured her. “It's none of my business.”

  “We actually were here having dinner one night,” Bert said. “In the food court. I was at the Hot Dog on a Stick and she was at the Sbarro. I saw her sitting by herself and went over to say hello. She invited me to sit down and we just started talking.” He glanced at her. “She invited me to come home with her that night—”

  Nora slapped his chest, her face going crimson.

  “Really,” I said, holding up a hand. “It's not any of my business. You don't owe me an explanation.”

  Nora held up several strips of photographs. “We were just getting holiday pictures taken in the booth. We thought it would be fun.”

  “Ah.”

  We stood there awkwardly for a moment.

  “Please don't tell Oliver,” Nora finally said.

  “I—”

  “He will be heartbroken,” she said. “I really don't want that.”

  “Would be fine with me,” Bert grumbled.

  “I have no intention of telling anyone anything,” I said, wishing the girls would hurry along. “It'll be like we never met.” I paused. “But I have to tell you. I think...I think people already may know.”

  They exchanged a worried look.

  “They already know?” Nora asked.

  “We've been so careful,” Bert said, frowning. “I never park my car at her house. We never go out together in Moose River.”

  I shrugged. “I don't know what to tell you, but I think from things people have said, they already know.”

  “People are already gossiping about us?” Nora asked, anxiety all over her face.

  “No, not like that,” I explained. “But both Oliver and Ava Bradshaw mentioned the two of you...together.”

  Nora pressed her hand to her chest. “He already knows. Oh my lord.”

  “Why were they talking about us?” Bert asked. “And why to you?”

  It was a fair question and I thought they deserved an honest answer.

  “It was about the missing decorations,” I answered.

  They looked at one another, then back to me.

  I cleared my throat. “As you know, there have been a lot of questions about what happened to everything and lots of questions as to who might've been involved.” I paused. “Your names came up.”

  “Because of the wreaths?” Nora asked. “I already explained to you that I had nothing to do with that.”

  “I know, and I believe you,” I told her. “But others have suggested that you had the motivation to get back at Oliver.” I paused. “Both of you. And maybe together. That's why I think people already know about you.”

  “Why?” Bert asked, his brows furrowed together. “Why us?”

  I wasn't prepared to have this conversation, but I didn't see a way to back out. “Well, Oliver suggested that Nora was angry with him because of the divorce and that she would like to see him fail.”

  “That's not true,” she said. “Things aren't good between us, but that doesn't mean I'd do anything to hurt him.”

  “I might,” Bert said with a grunt.

  She frowned at him.

  His shoulders slumped. “I'm just saying that because I'm upset.”

  “And I think everyone knows about you losing your Santa position, Bert,” I said. “They saw the video. I don't think it's a huge jump for people to think you, too, might be happy to see the festival and parade fail.”

  “Just because I'd like to see old Ollie fail doesn't mean I'd do anything to make it happen,” he said. “I knew he knew about us, Nora. I just knew it. I knew that's why he kicked me out of the Santa spot. I just had a feeling. Plain old jealousy.” He looked at me. “But I haven't done a thing to harm the festival and I never would.”

  “I'm just telling you how your names came up,” I explained. “That's all.”

  “We've been together every night this month,” Bert said. “Nora and I. We didn't sneak out and start stealing anything. That can be proven. Dinner receipts, coffee, ice cream receipts.” He glanced at her. “I have the receipts from all of our dates.”

  She smiled at him. “That's very sweet.”

  “I want to remember every moment we spend together.”

  “Oh, Bert.”

  I wasn't sure I'd ever felt like a bigger third wheel.

  Bert looked at me. “Do we need to go in and talk to the police? Do we need to defend ourselves?”

  I hesitated, then shook my head. “I don't think so. At least, not right now. Everything is just rumor and gossip at this point. I'm sure if they want to talk to you, Ted or someone else will get hold of you.”

  Bert nodded. “Alright then.”

  “And for what it's worth,” I told them. “I do believe you.”

  And I did. I knew they both had their own motivation to get back at Oliver, but I just wasn't seeing anything from either of them that indicated they were responsible for the thefts.

  Which left me
right where I'd started.

  With no answers.

  TWENTY ONE

  I crawled into bed next to Jake. “I thought they were going to make out.”

  He made a face. “I don't think any of us need to see that.”

  The girls and I had left the mall as soon as they finished with their pictures. I'd gone about finishing some of my wrapping and baking some cookies and making dinner. I'd tried to clear my head of Moose River's problems and find a bit more of the holiday spirit, but I was having trouble doing that. I wasn't in a great mood when I'd gone upstairs to go to bed.

  “I mean, I think they made out before they came out of the booth,” I told him.

  “Stop. I don't need these images in my head.”

  “You should've seen the lipstick on Bert's face.”

  “I'm gonna go sleep downstairs.”

  I snuggled up to him under the blankets. “No, then I'll be cold.”

  He slipped his arm around me. “Then stop trying to give me nightmares.”

  I sighed.

  “What's wrong?” he asked.

  “I don't know,” I told him. “I'm just afraid it won't seem much like Christmas without the festival and the parade. It's just part of our routine, our tradition. And if they cancel everything, it will feel like there's a big hole in the holidays.”

  “We still have our stuff, though,” he said. “Our Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with presents and food and total chaos. Those are what I think of as our traditions.”

  “You don't think of the town stuff?”

  “I do, but I care more about what goes on in this house. Those are what matter to me. I don't want anything to be canceled, but I love the holiday because of us, not because of anything else.”

  I squeezed him. I knew he was right. Those were the things that mattered to me, too. But I really did like all of the pomp and circumstance that went along with the town's celebration, and I would miss it if it were canceled.

  “Your wheels are still turning,” Jake said. “I can feel them.”

  “When are they not?”

  “I have no idea. I'm positive they turn in your sleep.”

  I kneed him in the leg beneath the covers. “I would just like to know what happened. That's all.”