Christmas Carol Clash Page 3

  Judy Evergreen turned toward the stove, giving her back to her daughter, and smiled. The Troutman boy was supposed to be rather good looking. Perhaps if Carol could get over her first impression, he might ask her out.

  ***

  “What do you mean you had a confrontation with your new neighbor?” Bade Troutman asked as he checked the feeders for his birds. “They haven’t even opened up shop yet.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Dad, it’s a Christmas store. Everything Christmas.” He threw up his hands. “I was just locking up when Kooter tried to climb this lady's leg. I went over to get him, and we got into an argument. She called me a Christmas Hater.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No!” Ryan turned, opening the gate for his father while Kooter stalked along the edge of the fence. “I don’t like the commercialism. I love the church pageant, the carols, the food, but all this shopping and trying to outdo each other on presents,” he paused. “It’s just wrong.”

  “Son, not many people love Thanksgiving like you do. You think it’s the best day of the year, but it’s just a hot meal, a weird family gathering, and football to many. You have to understand that some people love everything about Christmas.” The older man shook his head and grinned.

  “My mother was obsessed with it and started putting all the decorations up on Thanksgiving Day. She went all out, and it made her happy to make or buy gifts for the people she loved. Shoot, even the mailman got a box of chocolates and a card each year.”

  Ryan opened his mouth to protest, but his father waved him down.

  “You have to accept that Christmas is the biggest holiday of the year for most folks. You need to try to get along with this girl and maybe cooperate a bit. You might have shared clients, after all.”

  Ryan sighed but nodded. “I’ll try,” he finally agreed. “Now, what’s mom making for supper?”

  Bade chuckled. “Too much if I know your mother.”

  Ryan grinned. He came home every Sunday for dinner after church, but usually stayed in town on weekdays. Sometimes his brothers and their families joined in as well, coming from different parts of the state.

  “So, what was this girl like?” Bade asked as he placed a rough hand on his son’s shoulder and steered him toward the house and the delicious smells coming from the kitchen.

  Ryan dropped his eyes as a vision of the sassy woman swayed across his mind. She was shapely and rather attractive. “I didn’t notice.”

  Bade Troutman glanced over at his son but didn’t say anything. It looked like this season was going to be interesting. He just hoped that when the dust settled, two young hearts wouldn’t be too badly bruised.

  Chapter 3

  Ryan opened the shop to three customers already waiting. There was a sharp nip in the air, and he watched his breath puff in front of him as he opened the door.

  “Welcome,” he smiled as the three women stomped chilled feet, keeping a close watch on Kooter, who was sitting like a statue in front of the shop.

  Ryan opened the door, holding it while the ladies entered. They all seemed rather impatient to find what they were looking for. Striding into the store, Kooter on his heels, Ryan flipped on the lights and made his way to the till.

  “Let me know if I can help you with anything?” he said as he booted up the cash register and flicked a switch on a coffee machine.

  “Do you have any more of these?” A round-faced woman in her forties asked. “You only seem to have two boxes of this place setting.”

  “I have more in the back,” Ryan smiled. “How many do you need?”

  “I’ve got thirty friends and family coming for dinner this year. I’d like a set to accommodate that many.”

  Ryan checked his inventory sheet and had enough for twenty-five. “I have a set big enough for twenty-five,” he called back. “I can order the rest if you want them.”

  “Will they be here in time?”

  Ryan clicked a few more keys, the light from the computer reflecting off of his glasses. “They’ll be here in three days.”

  “I’ll take them,” the woman snapped, marching toward him, credit card in hand.

  By the time the three women had finished their shopping, they had ordered half of their food items from him, collected various Thanksgiving-themed dishware, and cleared out half of his table linens.

  A bright smile flickered across the young man’s face as he finished out the orders and placed new inventory items to his standing order. This was going to be a great day.

  Walking toward the front door, Ryan spotted Miss Evergreen headed for her store to organize a cluttered table. Today she wore skinny jeans, tall boots, and an oversized pumpkin-colored sweater that set off her coloring well. His eyes followed her all the way to her front door that she opened and disappeared through.

  A stifled crash from the back of the store made Ryan jump, and he hurried back to the cash register where Kooter was batting at a glaringly pink package.

  “I hope you didn’t make a mess,” Ryan scolded, snatching the box and looking inside to be sure the lurid Christmas tree was still intact. Kooter seldom knocked things over in the shop. Even as big as he was, if he didn’t choose to disturb something, it stayed put.

  A smile flickered across Ryan’s face, and he headed for the door, package in hand. If Miss Evergreen was so in love with Christmas, perhaps this would make a good peace offering. His curiosity for what was going on next door had nothing to do with the idea at all, he assured himself as he slipped out the door and down the sidewalk to the next shop.

  ***

  Carol hurried through the front door and headed for the back of the shop. Her father and mother were coming to help her move her inventory in and set up displays. It was going to be a blast, and she had promised pizza and dessert to anyone who would help.

  She had just unlocked the back door when someone knocked on the front. “I’ll be right back,” she called to her parents and hurried back to the front of the store. The stark shelves and empty displays were jarring, but she could see it all in her mind’s eye and knew that the finished product would be stunning.

  “Oh,” she gasped as she opened the door to see the young man from yesterday standing there. He was holding a little box that was so pink it looked like it should have belonged on some tweenie’s bookshelf. “Can I help you?”

  “I,” Ryan peered inside the empty shop. “I felt that we got off on the wrong foot yesterday,” he finally said, his eyes returning to hers. “I brought a peace offering.” He presented the package with a grin as his oversized cat slipped inside.

  “Thank you,” Carol said, eyeing the box suspiciously. “Please come in.”

  “I can’t,” Ryan said, watching as an older couple walked through the back door carrying boxes. “I have to get back.” He nodded toward the front of his store. “It’s already busy today.”

  “Well, thanks,” Carol said, lifting the box in one hand.

  “Come on, Kooter,” Ryan called, but the cat was busy sniffing each corner of the shop and trotting along empty shelves.

  Ryan heard his door open and turned around. “I’ll be back for the cat,” he said, turning and hurrying toward his store.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Carol called after the man. “I’ll let him out when he’s ready.”

  Closing the door and turning the lock once more, the young woman peeled open the box in her hand. Something warm and soft curled around her legs, and she looked down at the colossal feline at her feet. “Now you come?” she asked, popping the box open and pulling out the little tree.

  A bright smile spread across her face as she examined the ornament. It was pink, but it was beautiful all the same. Carol could imagine a little girl falling in love with this glimmering ornament. She would have to see if she could order a pink tree for the shop. You never knew what someone might like.

  “Honey, what is that cat doing here?” Mrs. Evergreen glared over the counter at the animal, cleaning the tips of his white paws b
y the door.

  Carol dangled the ornament for her mother to see. “The young man from yesterday came by to apologize for his behavior,” she grinned. “He gave me this.”

  Judy peered at the ornament and shook her head. “If he’s a Christmas Hater, why does he have a Christmas tree bauble?”

  Carol scowled. It was a good question but not one she had an answer for.

  The cat rubbed against her boot once more, looking up at her with bright green eyes. He looked like he was smiling then emitted a funny little cack-cack-cack sound, making Carol smile.

  “I guess if I spoke cat, I’d know what that means,” she said, walking to the counter and placing the little tree next to the cash register.

  Ah-choo! Her mother’s sneeze made Carol grin stooping to pick up the cat. He weighed a ton and did nothing to help her as his whole body went limp.

  “You have to go home,” Carol said, “My Mom’s allergic.” Wresting the cat in one arm, Carol managed to open the front door and head for the shop next to hers.

  She would just drop the cat off and peek inside for a minute. It never hurt to understand the competition.

  The door of the Triple T shop bust open as a woman hurried out, carrying a large box in her hands, and Carol propped the door open with a foot turning and slipping inside as the happy customer hurried away.

  The smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon tickled her nose as warm fall colors wrapped around her welcoming her into the toasty shop.

  The cat, now in his domain, seemed to come to life, and he leapt from her hands, landing silently on a tiered table layered in festive fall dishes, golden stem wear, and hand-embroidered linens.

  As shops went, it was inviting, and the carefully displayed items mirrored the bright colors and warm sunshine outside.

  Several customers milled about the shop looking at different items, while others stood at the cash register, either checking out or ordering smoked turkey and other Thanksgiving treats.

  The door opened behind her again, letting in a rush of fresh fall air, and Carol quickly stepped back outside.

  Whatever the man’s opinion of Christmas, he seemed to have a handle on his holiday sales. Now, if she could just leverage that for her own seasonal special.

  Chapter 4

  The next three days were a whirlwind of activity for Ryan Troutman as town’s folk and others from the surrounding area in the eastern hills of Tennessee dropped into the Triple T to order their turkey or buy festive items to spruce up the house.

  Ryan was kept hopping with barely a moment to grab lunch and wondered, not for the first time, if he should consider hiring some help.

  “Hi honey,” his mom’s voice caught him by surprise as she walked into the shop a heavy basket in hand. “I brought lunch.”

  Ryan smiled then turned his attention back to the customer in front of him, handing her a receipt and thanking her for shopping Triple T.

  “Mom, I don’t have time.” Ryan started to speak, but his mother shook her head.

  “Ah, ah, ah.” Mrs. Troutman grinned, her eyes sparkling as other customers turned around curiously. “I’ve been making some new dishes, and you have to try them. I have a new recipe for cranberry sauce I want you to try.”

  “You’ve been canning for weeks already. Why is this the first I’ve heard of a new recipe?”

  Ryan’s mother chuckled. “It’s a surprise. Ever since your dad and I put in that new kitchen and got our catering license, I’ve been tinkering with new things.” The woman’s eyes glinted as the patrons leaned in. “Wait until you taste the pumpkin mousse.”

  Ryan’s stomach grumbled, but his eyes flickered toward the woman watching his mother unpack the hamper of food. Mrs. Troutman had always loved to cook, and now with the shop and Bade’s turkey operation, she had thrown caution to the wind and was trying all sorts of new things.

  “Try this first,” Mrs. Troutman said, handing her son a tiny sandwich. “It’s a new flavoring your father is trying on the turkey.”

  Ryan took a bite, letting the tender, juicy meat all but melt on his tongue. “What is it?” he mumbled around the sandwich that he had stuffed into his mouth.

  “Sage and citrus. I’ll have to get some samples put out.

  The pack of patrons shuffled closer as she pulled out a plate with tiny bite-sized pieced of turkey skewered with toothpicks. The dish looked like a flattened porcupine but smell like a slice of heaven.

  “Oh, hello.” Mrs. Troutman turned to the ladies who had shuffled close. “Let me put out the cranberry sauce so you can sample.”

  The women looked at each other and smiled as the other woman pulled out a jar of bright red sauce and unscrewed the lid; the definitive pop of the sealed cover made everyone ah.

  “Mom, don’t give samples out until I’ve tasted it,” Ryan grumbled as the hit of orange and spices wafted past his nose, making his taste buds tingle.

  Mrs. Troutman made a face and pulled out a little bowl scooping the brilliantly hued concoction into it and placing it next to the plate of turkey.

  The sound of ohms and ahs filled the shop as the shoppers descended on the goodies, smacking their lips in approval.

  “I’ll need at least three jars of that,” One woman said, still twirling her toothpick.

  “And I want to order a turkey with sauce,” another said.

  Ryan knew that there was no way he would be getting his lunch now but grinned anyway. Business was good.

  Despite the rush of enthusiastic customers who snatched up every sample his mother proffered, Ryan, did get his lunch. As the trays emptied and happy shoppers slipped from the store, still savoring the tiny cups of spiced pumpkin mousse his mother had offered, the shop owner took the paper bag handed to him and slipped out the back door.

  The sun was warm, and he settled on a bench, smiling when he pulled a properly sized sandwich from the bag.

  Closing his eyes for a moment, Ryan soaked in the sun and silence around him. He loved his job. He loved owning his own business, and the fact that both of his parents had been able to transition along with him into catering for his favorite holiday only made life sweeter.

  Opening his eyes, he bit into the sandwich and sighed. This was going to be his best year yet. He could feel it.

  The sound of grunting to his left made Ryan look up to see a balding man struggling with a heavy box. Glancing down at the sandwich in his hand, Ryan reluctantly sat it on his bench and hurried to help.

  “Let me help,” he called, grabbing a corner of the box. “That looks heavy.”

  “It is,” the older man agreed, sucking in a breath as Ryan lifted one side of the bulky package. “It’s awkward too, so it’s hard to get a good hold on it.

  Ryan grinned over the box and then looked over his shoulder as he started shuffling backwards toward the horrible holiday shop door.

  “I’m Ryan Troutman,” he offered, pausing at the door and resting the box on his knees as he leveraged the door open. “I own the shop next door.”

  “Bill Evergreen,” the man grinned. “It seems you’ve made quite an impression on my daughter.”

  Ryan’s eyes widened, and the box shifted in his hands before he quickly got a better grip on it and his emotions.

  “I hope that’s not a bad thing.”

  “I can’t say she was in a very good mood when she got home last night. She kept spouting off about Christmas Haters.”

  Ryan chuckled. “I guess it did come across that way. I just don’t see the excitement in Christmas.” Together they wrestled the box inside and set it on the floor. “I mean, it’s all hype and families fight. It’s just sad.”

  “Not all families fight.” Bill dusted his hand and headed back out the door.

  “Do you need more help?”

  “No,” the older man shook his head. “I think that was the last big box. Besides, don’t you have a shop to run?”

  Ryan grinned. “I’m on my lunch break.”

  Together they turned toward the ben
ch where Ryan had been enjoying his sandwich moments ago.

  “Kooter!” Ryan yelled, breaking into a run as the oversized feline fiend dashed off with his sandwich grasped between his jaws.

  Laughter followed Ryan to the bench, but by the time he got there, the cat had leapt into a tree and was growling over his pilfered prize.

  “You rotten cat.” Ryan shook a finger at Kooter. “No treats for you tonight.” Moving back to his brown paper bag, he pulled out some vegetables and a hearty helping of pumpkin mousse. At least he didn’t have to give up his dessert.