“Mostly. I had to redo a bunch of peppermints—the mouse gnawed the daylights out of them, and we completely redid the snow—mostly Bob did that. His drifts are skilled. On the house board, I also added the station and station head near the front. He doffs his hat when the train goes by.”
“I guess you have to be detail oriented for this.”
His understatement brought a curve to her lips. “You should see my workshop. I have drawers of snowflakes labeled by size and color.”
The way he looked at her made her slightly uncomfortable. It reminded her too much of how he’d devoured her before that fateful day when he fired her.
“You look like the Fifty Foot Woman standing up there. I always thought she was hot.” His raspy voice reminded her of when he asked her to stay.
“She had the right attitude. She’d crush you like a bug.”
She wished someone would squash the butterflies in her tummy. It would be too easy to get lost in those gold-flecked eyes, to let something happen that shouldn’t. She held his gaze longer than necessary. The noisy heater rattled on and she remembered her surroundings. And how she ended up here, a giantess tromping through the Lord’s house.
“Give me a few more minutes to finish the roofline. I’ll take a break to deal with your problem before finishing the trees.” She ignored him the best she could, which wasn’t much.
She brushed herself off when she reached the outside of the table, more out of habit than need.
“Will you give me a tour?”
“Of what?”
He waved his hands toward the platform. “This.”
“It doesn’t open until Friday and I still have work to do. Come then.”
“Even if I weren’t headed home this weekend, I think we both know that isn’t a good idea.”
She shrugged. “If you want to understand what this display is all about, that’s the best day to see it, but then you’ve already made up your mind haven’t you?” She hoped the tightening in her throat didn’t make her sound shrill. The man had a great body and nice smile, but didn’t understand people. It was better that she’d found out he was a jerk before she completely lost her heart to him. Except when he looked at her, she found herself forgetting to be wary.
“I need a snack. Let’s watch this movie you brought.” He set his laptop on the kitchenette counter and she grabbed a couple of chairs. He pulled out a notebook and pen. She opened up a plastic tub of trail mix, her own blend complete with pretzels, M & M, and sunflower seeds.
“When was this footage taken?”
Grainy footage filled his laptop screen. “Tonight, around eleven. There’s the sidewalk. The first night I aimed the camera pointed toward the wrong spot. It took me a bit to figure out how to use the app to redirect the camera.”
“Have you watched this yet?” The image stabilized.
“While filming yes, but not a second time. I figured what’s the point of watching if I have no idea who to report.”
“You could turn the tape over to the police. Are you sure something happened?”
“Wait for it. And at this point, the police would probably issue me a ticket for illegal surveillance.”
“Not on your prop—Here they come.”
Two figures moved quickly across corner of the screen, headed toward the side of the house. “What did those two do?”
“Soaped my car windows. It’s not so bad tonight. It took less than ten minutes to clean before coming over.”
“Recognize either one?”
“Nope.”
“I do. Only one person has a bright red coat like that.”
“Still doesn’t help me. Oh, here come the forkers.” Two figures crouched low to the ground while a third marched in between, handing them plastic forks quickly and efficiently. The head of the walker came into view and she doubled over with laughter.
“Mother forker—I would have never...” The words squeezed out between hearty giggles.
“Who?”
“Pause...it...”
He did, but it still took her a few seconds to compose herself.
“Don’t you recognize your neighbor?”
“No.”
Jabbing a finger at frozen image, she glanced at him. “That’s old Miss Jones! And the red-coated soaper, that’s Dinah Halberstam, the mayor’s wife.” She burst out laughing all over again, spilling trail mix everywhere.
HE BRUSHED THE CRUMBS off his pants. At least he’d given her a good laugh, but it didn’t solve his problem. He loved the sound, how she moved, even if it all came at his expense. She wiped away tears with her shirt sleeve.
“Are you done?”
“Yes, maybe. This is too funny. Miss Jones the neighborhood snitch releasing her inner juvenile delinquent. I once got an earful from Mrs. Halberstam, too. So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I guess I don’t want either of them to go to jail, but I wish they’d stop. I bet Mrs. Jones—”
“Miss. Always Miss. Her fiancé died in Korea. As near as I can tell she’s been a lonely grump ever since.”
“Miss Jones then. I bet she calls the police to report the mess in my yard about as soon as she finishes vandalizing it.”
“Probably.” The corners of her mouth inched upward. He put a hand on her arm. Instantly, her lips drew into a flat line. “Touching’s not a good idea.” She stared at the screen and seemed to avoid him, which was okay.
He didn’t know what to do with his rejected hand. His fingers lacked purpose. He stretched toward her once, then tapped his coat and pants pockets, and then drummed his fingers on his knee.
She leaned in further and tapped on the one of the blurry faces. “Can you go forward, slowly and I’ll try to ID the crawlers?”
“I’m afraid you’ll become incoherent again.”
“Fine, but whatever you do, don’t destroy this tape. I want to buy it from you. Best laugh I’ve had all year.”
“You need to get out more.” He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed as hard as Claire had. Probably never. He was the one who needed to find more joy. When he was with her,
