“So many of the kids and grandkids have moved away. Bob’s son-in-law has rehomed a few of Bob’s trains. We can get him on the weekends, maybe, but we need someone in town.”
“Maybe we can recruit Dylan.”
Walter scoffed and reached into the mountain scene. “Not in town. Next time I see a kid with a lollipop, I’m going to yank the stick out of their mouth. I have another idea. How about James Fordham? Maybe he’ll give us our space back if he gets to play too.” At least he didn’t call out her eye roll. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And you at him.”
She crouched down. In her quest hide out by picking up a non-existent candy wrapper she found a real baby binky hiding by a table leg. “He’s an idiot and a jerk.”
“But you clued him in to Miss Jones and her gang, so you must not think he’s all bad.”
She glared at him. “How did you know?”
“Don’t deny it. You know Clem didn’t tolerate lying.”
That was a low blow. How dare he invoke his memory to make her come clean about emotions, or at least physical lust, she preferred to deny.
“I meant about Miss Jones.”
“I overheard Sandy on the phone with Jennifer Grant asking where she was supposed to store the toilet paper. After you left yesterday, she confessed to the whole scheme.” Walter shook his head. “Those girls always have been such troublemakers.”
“Takes one to know one. Can you believe someone lost this? Should I put it in the lost and found?”
Walter glared at her.
“You’re right. I’ll put it in a baggie first – someone digging for a glove might not want to touch a strange binky.” She walked toward the kitchenette. Walter followed, grabbed the binky from her hand and threw it in trash.
“Hey!”
He touched his hand to her arm. “No one needs that. Sometimes I wonder what goes through that head of yours. For what it’s worth, I don’t think James Fordham is a horrible human being, even if he did try to cancel the display. Have you seen the way he chomps antacids? He doesn’t like firing people. He could have cut half my department, including me. But he didn’t. His heart’s in the right place, even if he hasn’t realized it yet.” He looked at his watch and harrumphed. “I need to get going.”
A blast of cold air caught her attention. Quietly she asked, “Did you lock the door?”
“No. I thought you did.”
“When was I near the—” Footfalls echoed. “We’re closed.”
She stepped toward the door so she could see into the short hallway and she nearly swooned.
“I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, but I guess I’ll come back another time. When aren’t you busy?”
“You’re here,” Walter piped up. “You may as well stay. Claire will give you a quick tour, but I’ve got to run. Sandy’s expecting me. Don’t forget to lock up.” He flashed a quick grin and a wink as he ran for the door. She couldn’t remember the last time he moved that fast. Suspicious. Especially since he hadn’t removed his coat earlier.
James rocked back and forth on his heels, his open black trench coat swinging rhythmically. He wore the same shade of burgundy that she used on her favorite figurine of him. It looked even better on him in person.
He started toward her but stopped in front of the donations box.
“It’s empty.”
“We cashed out already.”
Extracting his wallet from his back pocket, he pulled out a couple of bills and stuffed them into the Plexiglas box. “Starter money.”
“Hrumph. What did you do to Walter? You broke him somehow.”
“I bribed him with a Cuban cigar.”
“The man has no shame. And he sold himself out for cheap. Give me a minute to undo the closing and I’ll start the trains. Well one anyway.” She covered her mouth as she yawned so wide, her jaw hurt. She pulled back the cover, and flipped the switches, powering up the electrical board. “The view is better when you’re up close and not back in the entry. I’ll run the outer track.”
She pressed the button and pulled the rope for the whistle. From the engineer’s station, she saw the moment it happened. James the sexy Grinch with chronic upset stomach became James the seven year old who still believed in holiday magic and the goodness in the world.
THE OLD-FASHIONED TRAIN rattled before him, ignoring cars waiting at railroad crossings and passengers at a station before going around a curve and disappearing into a tunnel. All through his field of vision, movement fought to draw his attention. He focused in on the sights before him, a rectangular grid of streets, that seemed familiar. At the far end of the town, blinking lights danced around a sign declaring “Eat at Jo’s”. An old fashioned car moved back and forth trying to navigate a parking lot with cars and trucks of the last hundred years. The production rivaled anything on Broadway. The past and present collided in an imaginary Belkin.
He lifted his gaze to hers. “You did this?”
“Not all of it. My Grandfather started the display with the North Pole. The train used to deliver candy to the kids, but the crowds have grown large enough that we had to put up the Plexiglas and keep people from reaching in. Over the years he added bits and pieces. Fifty years ago, he began the town. It’s evolved ever since.” The train noise stopped.
“Where do you get this stuff? I swear I recognize houses.”
“That’s the easy stuff. Paint color and location relative to landmarks like the town hall.”
Joining him on the side nearest the outside doors, she offered him a magnifying glass. She was close enough her body heat rippled across his skin.
“You’re tall enough. Lean in at that gap and get a better look at that diner right there. I noticed you looking at
