Page 36 of Christmas Coffee

“Yeah,” Quin replies thoughtfully, still looking across the lot. “There should be more people here. You said you already met today’s goal?”

“By the skin of our teeth.” There are about two hours left before closing. It’s been slow since five o’clock.

Quin nods thoughtfully. “We need something to attract people at nighttime. Carolers?”

“Maybe.” He’s right, and I’m not sure if people aren’t coming over because the lot between us and the mall is covered in thick shadows or if it’s something else. “Let me think about it.”

Quin sighs deeply, “Well, I can stay until close. Just tell me where you need me.” He reaches up to adjust one of the tins of coffee and winces. His hand flies to his side and he swears.

I step toward him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Quin smirks and laughs it off. “Nothing. I just—”

I’ve known Quin since we were kids and I know when he’s lying. I grab the hem of his wrinkled shirt and tug it up before he can stop me. His ribs are bandaged. “Shit, Quin.” I glance up at him. “You were in the ER all day, weren’t you?”

Quin pales and backs away, swatting at the hand holding his shirt. I drop it and let him save face. “Yeah, I was.”

“What happened?” I ask again.

Quin shakes his head. “Nothing to say. It’s behind me. I’m moving forward.”

I nod in agreement. There’s nothing I can say when he’s like this. Whatever happened rattled the hell out of him. I know he needs to work to keep his mind from replaying whatever he’s trying to avoid talking about. I make a decision right then to grab a pair of folding stools. I can shove them in the crevice between the counter and the wall if needed, but Quin isn’t going to be able to stay on his feet for hours on end. He shouldn’t even be here.

“I’m going to take a break, grab some dinner. You want anything?” I use the break as a pretense for grabbing time to run in and get the stools. It’ll come out of today’s earnings which will shove us under goal unless we sell another dozen customers before close, which looks unlikely. It’s an acceptable loss.

“Nah, I’m fine. Take your time. I got this.” I show him where the pad is to take orders and point out a few things before heading into the parking lot. The icy wind nips at me as I cross to the other side and when I get to the curb, I turn back and look at the hut. There’s a sea of darkness between the sidewalk and the Hottie Hut. We need more light or no one will come after sunset. I wonder if there’s such a thing as used Christmas lights. If so, I need to find some.