Page 5 of Sugar Plum Serenade

Colt stood near the front counter, talking to himself. Some people made a big deal out of that, but Tuck considered it a harmless quirk. After a couple minutes of chattering to no one, Colt turned his back to the room. It was apparent he continued to speak. Might be less obvious if he wasn’t currently using his hands to emphasize a point.

Tuck took his coffee and sat on one of the old depot benches. The music that filled the room was old, that was sure, but it was also oddly soothing. Music could do that. Over the years he’d found that a song could sometimes change the mood of a crowd or of a single person, for good or… not. As he sat there, sipping coffee and letting his thoughts wander, his mind turned to his new neighbor.

Olive Carson wasn’t really a neighbor. She was temporary, a short-term renter. She could’ve stayed with her sister and family while she was here, but having met her a time or two he understood why she’d chosen to book her own place. Olive wasn’t unfriendly, but she was quiet. Reserved, even. Mike and Dawn’s home was always a madhouse, with those two girls and the dogs. Mike wasn’t much better than a big kid himself. Every time Tuck had been in that house, there had been turmoil.

Olive was the opposite of turmoil.

It was perverse of him, he knew it, but ever since she’d said she didn’t dance he’d been determined to get her on the dance floor. Just once. That’s what he wanted for Christmas, one turn around The Magnolia dance floor with a beautiful woman who said she didn’t dance.

Everyone danced.

Colt spun around and walked to Tuck, said hello, then sat on the opposite end of the bench. There was no smile, not today. He didn’t speak right away, but he did lift his hand as if to silence someone who wasn’t there.

“Humor me,” Colt said, looking directly at Tuck.

“Okay.” Maybe the owner of the depot was quirkier than he’d realized.

“What was your mother’s name?” Colt asked.

The personal question came out of the blue. Tuck’s heart hammered hard, in response. How long had it been since anyone had mentioned his mother? No one had ever asked for her name; at least, not for a very long time. “Doreen,” he answered. “Doreen Tucker.”

He hadn’t thought about his mother for years, not in any deep and meaningful way. Sure, now and then a good memory would come to him, and in that moment he missed her. A lot. He wished she’d lived longer. They hadn’t made enough memories. He’d been born late in her life, at a time when she’d thought there was no chance she could have a baby. She’d died two months after his thirteenth birthday. His father was already gone at that point, dead for five years.

After his mother’s death he’d moved in with Uncle Houston, moving from a small town in western Tennessee to Seawolf Beach, where he’d stayed for a few years before joining the Army.

Hardly a heartwarming tale.

Colt bolted off the bench, talking to himself as he walked to the back room. Okay, that was weird. You’d think a recently engaged man with a hot girlfriend would try to get rid of his bad habits. Still, if Anna didn’t care about her fella talking to himself, why should he?

He didn’t.

Talking about his mother stirred up memories he could do without. Christmas mornings alone. Manning his bar where other lonely people went on Christmas Day. Not that he was lonely, not really, but the truth was he envied Mike his hectic household. Even Colt, off-center as he was, had a fiancée this year.

Something tickled his right cheek. Tuck swatted at what he assumed was a bug, hoping it wasn’t a spider. He hated spiders. Whatever it was, the bug moved on.

He finished his coffee, stood, and headed for the exit. Maybe he didn’t have a family or a hot fiancée, maybe he’d be on his own again this year, or at someone else’s home for Christmas trying not to feel like a fifth wheel. He didn’t want much; he didn’t need what he didn’t have.

Best to keep it simple. All he wanted for Christmas this year was a dance.

Customers had beenin and out of the boutique all day, and thank goodness it had been a mostly happy crowd. Olive hadn’t been tempted to strangle or trip anyone. She credited her early morning walk on the beach to her own improved mood. Maybe she could get used to this retail gig. Temporarily, of course.

Christmas spirit ran rampant through Seawolf Beach. Several of the customers knew one another and visited as they shopped. They discussed upcoming parties, cookie recipes, and school holiday programs. A concert, a play, a group of carolers. It was almost enough to make Olive look at Christmas differently. Almost.

Susan Merriweather returned for her green blouse, which she said she’d dreamed about the night before. Even she was pleasant. Things were looking up.

One young woman had been noticeably stressed, but when with Olive’s help she found just the right gift for her mother, she relaxed, smiled, and left Dawn’s Radiance with a spring in her step.

Olive’s own parents would be here a few days before Christmas. They’d offered to come help with the girls when Dawn had to go on bed rest, but that would’ve meant cancelling their long-planned cruise and with Mike’s folks and Olive here, it wasn’t necessary.

She had the feeling Mike didn’t consider his in-laws all that much help. Olive couldn’t really argue with him on that point. Her parents were free spirits, retired travelers. They found fun wherever they went. The December cruise had been on their calendar for a while, but any time of the year they might decide on a whim to travel someplace new. With a map and no plans whatsoever, they’d hit the road.

She’d wondered more than once if she was adopted.

With less than an hour until closing time, the crowd thinned. Olive had plans for her evening. First a stop by Dawn’s house to check on everyone, then she’d swing by that little restaurant she liked so much and get a big salad to go. Pajamas, a little TV, a couple chapters of her book, then blessed sleep. Tomorrow she’d start all over again. If the weather cooperated, maybe she’d get in another walk on the beach before work.

She was rearranging a rack of blouses in the back of the room when the bell over the door jingled. Drat! There were just a few minutes until closing time. She gave a mental double drat when she saw who’d walked in.

Tuck was a friend of Mike’s, a good neighbor who didn’t mind rushing into her house to save the day when she thought she’d been reverse burgled. But he also made her itchy all over. No, those were not pleasant tingles. The itchiness had to be a warning of some sort. Olive was a cautious person. She never ignored a warning.