Christmas Cove, page 6
“Right on time,” Leo said before calling out to the man, “In here, Edwin.” Leo turned to America and spoke in a hushed tone. “Edwin is sort of a town legend. He’ll get us anything we need. You name it.”
Wasting no time, America shortened the distance between her and this enigmatic figure, so highly proclaimed as their savior of the moment, and put her hand out to greet the man. As she approached, his wrinkled eyes and thin smile told of a life well-lived, and his fully grayed coiffure was the brightest silver she had ever seen.
Edwin took her outstretched hand and pulled her in for a hug. She, feeling momentarily trapped with nowhere to go, patted the man on his back before pushing away. Leo, smirk and all, came to her rescue and put himself between them. With a quick glance and a nod, she told him of her appreciation.
“Edwin,” Leo said. “I’d like to introduce you to America Greene. She’s staying in the cabin for a few days.”
“So, you’re the writer from the big city.” He chuckled in a friendly way. She hoped. “Enjoying your time in Christmas Cove so far?”
“I only got in two nights ago. But so far, yes.”
“Ha!” He laughed and walked past her towards the Christmas decorations. “I know you’re fibbing. No one enjoys themselves here anymore.”
“I can’t tell if he’s grumpy or funny,” America whispered to Leo.
“No one can,” Leo said and nudged her.
“What are the two of you planning to do with all this?” Edwin said as he rifled through a box of lights. “Wait. Wait. Don’t tell me. You came for a Christmas soiree, and you won’t leave until you get one.”
“Not exactly,” America started, and admitted to herself that the man was partly correct.
“Edwin, I asked you here to help us because I know you have nothing better to do today.”
“I disagree with your assertion.” Edwin rolled his head and turned towards the open double doors as though he meant to leave them to their own designs.
“And . . .” Leo caught up with the elder man and took him by his elbow. “And because out of all the people in town, you miss Christmas the most. The way it used to be.”
Leo’s statement must have hit Edwin in the softer side of his heart because when he turned back, he had a gleam in his worn eyes and wore the grin of a bested man.
“Please, Mr. Edwin,” America pleaded. “Will you help us bring Christmas back to the Cove?”
“It’s Pa. You can call me Pa,” Edwin said. He made his way back to the boxes of wreaths and ornaments and picked up a carved star with a black-and-white checkered bow tied to the string on top. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
“Too long,” Leo said. “Will you help us?”
Edwin placed the star back on to the straw inside the box. “You two aren’t gonna take no for an answer, are you?”
“Afraid not.” Leo took America’s hand. “This town needs this more than ever.”
“And it might be our last chance . . .” Edwin added.
“Might be,” Leo said, and America sensed there was something more, like when he had mentioned something bad happening with the dam.
Edwin stood straight and pulled his shoulders back as though he was preparing for a battle and saluted. “Yes, sir, Mr. Mayor. Corporal Edwin Kupa is at your service.”
“At ease, soldier,” Leo said and returned the man’s salute.
“Mayor, huh?” America asked.
Leo shrugged.
America recalled the conversation she had had with her editor. He had mentioned that it was the mayor who had requested the magazine send someone to write a feature about Christmas Cove in the first place. It was all making sense now. How attentive Leo had been, how he had taken the time to show her why the cove had dried up, and why he was so enthusiastic about bringing Christmas back to Christmas Cove.
“I didn’t think it was relevant,” Leo said as though he sensed her questions. “Plus, it’s basically a ceremonial position at this point. Not much to govern around here, if you know what I mean.”
America couldn’t argue with that.
“So, what are my marching orders?” Edwin said.
“You’re up,” Leo said to America.
Her hand went to her chest. “Me?”
“Yes, you. This is your brainchild.”
America took stock of the items and closed her eyes. She flipped through the images she had stored in her mind from when Mr. Janowitz had pulled up the pictures on his computer a couple of days ago. The main street twinkled with thousands of mini lights glittering against the falling snow. Christmas trees dotted the storefronts, and wreaths hung from the streetlamps. She couldn’t do anything about the snow, but she could help with the twinkle.
With a smile as broad as the excitement she felt growing inside her at getting to decorate a space larger than her modest walk up, she rubbed her hands together. “Lights,” she said. “We should start with the lights.”
With her small band of helpers, America continued sorting the crates and containers, handing the lights to Leo, who relayed them to Edwin. Edwin stacked the goods on a dolly and made quick work of transporting it all to his truck. From one of the bins, she pulled out a red Santa hat with white fur and a small silver bell sewn to the tip. She donned the headgear and Leo grimaced. “What? It’s fitting, don’t you think?”
“No. This isn’t quite right,” Leo said while Edwin lugged crates out the door and to his own parked truck. Leo dug through a box and pulled out a brass bell and red tinsel garland. He handed her the bell. “Now you can order us all around properly.” He took the glittery garland and tied it around her waist like a belt.
“What’s this for?” she asked. “I feel ridiculous.”
“You look festive.”
America could do nothing but laugh. “This is what I asked for, I suppose.” She plucked a green tinsel garland from the same box and shimmied it in Leo’s direction.
“Oh, no! I don’t think so,” he said and walked backwards out of her reach.
America sprang into action and chased after the vexing man. “All is fair—”
“In love and war?” he said as he darted behind an old tractor.
“I was going to say, in Christmas Cove.” America used the tractor’s red painted metal wheel rim to fling herself around. She would cut off his escape route and tie him up in tinsel. Her thought made her laugh, and she nearly missed him crouching behind a hay bale. “If I have to be festive, so do you.”
Leo, seeing that she had cornered him, put his arms out. “I’ll play along for now,” he said and posed with his chin resting on his hands like a toddler beauty pageant winner.
She sniggered as she wrapped the garland around his neck like a scarf.
“Do you always get your way?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” America turned and walked towards the remaining crates. “If you mean that I don’t give up on what I want, then yes. I’m not a quitter.”
“I don’t know much about you, America Greene, but I’m starting to get the impression that if anyone can do the impossible, it’s you,” Leo said and caught up to her.
“And don’t you forget it,” she said and leaned towards him.
The two paused and locked eyes. America knew full well that she was teasing him with her proximity, but she let her breath linger between them. His eyes began to close as though he was expecting a kiss to follow. The poor fellow, she thought and nudged his shoulder out of her way.
“Nice try,” she said and picked up the next crate with more ease than she expected. It looked far heavier than it was, and the motion nearly flung her out of balance. Leo caught her by the waist and righted her for the second time. America wondered if she should keep a tally for possible repayment in the future.
Leo ran his hands through his tousled hair, the way she had seen earlier. “I’ll grab these last couple crates and meet you at the carriage.”
CHAPTER 13
America planted her feet on the wooden floorboards in the open carriage and stood. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she mumbled.
“Whoa! What are you doing?” Leo said and fumbled the reins into one hand as he reached beside him to stabilize America at her waist again.
Three times, she thought.
“I have a plan,” she said. “Can you keep this horse going straight?”
“I’ll do my best,” Leo said and took the reins again with both hands.
America took a deep breath as he drove the carriage beneath the Main Street sign, and she lifted the brass bell high above her head. In a rhythm that matched Bingo’s trot, she rang the bell with more gusto than she ever had with anything else before. With each ding and dong, Christmas seemed to awaken a slumbering spirit within the town.
Her parade of lost toy soldiers, Leo, Edwin, and Bingo continued down Main Street. Edwin led the way in his faded blue Chevy truck. America and Leo followed behind in the carriage and she was glad that her clanging bell didn’t spook the horse. Bingo seemed to pick up his pace with the sound.
To her left, a woman poked her head out of a second-story window, no doubt to investigate the racket. Lights flicked on in a shop window to her right, and another window lit up down the street a little way. By the time they reached the white brick building at the end of the road, there were no fewer than a dozen curious spectators standing on the curb along the Main Street route.
“They’re either filled with Christmas joy, or they’re irritated about the show and are currently plotting a citizen’s arrest,” America joked.
“Hold on to something,” Leo said and pulled up on the reins.
America stumbled backwards and then forwards. She braced her hands against an ebony railing as they came to a stop. The final movement was all it took for her to lose all semblance of the balance and grace she had pretended to possess, and she fell back into Leo’s lap.
This time, his hands wrapped around her midsection, and he held her tightly. Four. Everything inside her told her to move off of him, but the gravity she had felt since first meeting him held her in place, unmoving. America’s arms fell around his shoulders in a far too familiar way, and neither of them attempted to part ways.
“Thanks,” she said, “for catching me.”
“It seems to be a trend,” he spoke loud enough for only her to hear.
Edwin’s car door slammed shut and broke their tension. America flinched away from Leo, and Edwin offered a hand to her. “Here, let me help you down from there,” he said.
“Thank you, good sir,” she said and curtsied once her feet touched solid ground.
“Will you look at that? We got their attention,” Edwin said and pointed down the street. “That is what you were going for with all that clatter?”
“Was it too much?” America said.
“We’ll find out soon,” Leo said and joined them at the bed of Edwin’s truck. “Did you see that woman back there, the one who poked her head out the window?”
America turned and looked down at the darkened street. “Who is she?”
“Scrooge McCarol,” Edwin about choked on his answer.
“Excuse me?” America said, sure she had misheard the older man through his mustache.
“Let’s just say, if we don’t get her blessing, then we might as well not even try,” Leo said. “Pa, can you unload these crates? You can just leave them here. It’s not like anyone’s going to take them.”
“You got it,” Edwin said and had already moved three or four crates to the steps in front of the building.
“Is this the town hall?” America asked. “It’s a beautiful building.”
“It’s town hall, the library, daycare, wedding venue, courthouse, and community center.”
“Seriously?”
Leo laughed at himself. “Might as well be. Anyway, that’s why we’re starting here. If there’s one place in town that deserves to be decorated first, it’s this place. I bet you can ask anyone in town, and they would each have a story of what this place has meant to them at one time or another.”
America had no words, none at least that she thought did the moment any justice. Her first reaction was one of wonder and curiosity. Her second thought was of the camera and notebook she had neglected to bring along. The carriage ride and barn escapades threw her off of her real mission. She made a mental note to come back and take photos of Main Street before it was completely decked out. She would need to turn the images in along with her article.
The photos of the town hall would be beautiful, she noted as she ascended the white stone steps washed in sunlight. A velvety smell of pine oil wafted in on the back of a cool breeze that followed them up to the doors. “I have one question.”
“I doubt it,” Leo said. “Only one?”
“I’m going to ignore that.” America blinked at him. “I was wondering where all the snow is. In all the photos I looked at online, there was always snow.”
“Hasn’t been snow like that for years, not in time for Christmas anyway,” Leo said and yelled down to Edwin. “Hey, Pa! When was the last time we had a white Christmas?”
“About the last time we had water in the cove, I imagine,” Edwin’s voice carried up the steps.
“Curious,” America said. “Do you think it has something to do with the lake drying up?”
“It didn’t dry up. They stole the water from us.”
Leo’s reaction had America on her heels. “You have some strong feelings about the matter, I sense.”
“They could have rebuilt the dam here, but they didn’t. And the only people suffering are the residents of Christmas Cove,” he said. “Or what’s left of us.”
“I’m no meteorologist, but lake effect snow is a real thing. I wonder if there is something to it, even though the cove was a smaller body of water.”
Leo shrugged, and America thought it best to let this one go for now. The subject was too touchy, and her prying would do nothing to help. She had no say in when or where a dam was or was not built. What she did have some say over was Main Street. She was there to experience a joyful holiday and help the town have something to celebrate. There was no good in rubbing salt in a clearly open wound.
Leo fumbled a keyring in his fingers and flipped through a dozen or so brass and silver keys.
She took his hand in hers and removed the key ring. “Which one do we need?”
Leo locked his eyes on hers. “The tarnished copper one.”
America flipped the ring around and spotted the patinaed green hue. She pushed it into the keyhole of the enormous carved wood door and turned it. With a click and a creak, she turned the knob and pushed the door open.
Town Hall smelled only slightly better than the musty barn had earlier. It was as though the doors hadn’t been thrown open for some time. Although, she suspected the smell was from neglect tinged in the sadness that the whole town exuded, and not from any true defect.
“What are we doing in here, anyway?” she asked. “I thought we were starting with stringing lights over the street.”
Leo flipped a brass wall switch, and a wooden chandelier illuminated above them. The light bathed the hallway in a soft yellow glow. The colonial architecture’s simple symmetry highlighted the space with comfort. Portraits and framed documents lined the walls above a shoulder-high chair rail, and several doors divided the walls into equal sections.
“In here,” Leo said and turned into the second door to her right.
“Your office?”
“The mayor’s office,” he said and opened a narrow chest on the outer wall.
“Aren’t you the mayor?” she asked.
“I told you, there’s not much to govern around here,” Leo said and moved a lever up.
“It sounds to me like you, Mr. Mayor, have given up,” America said, and immediately regretted the accusation. “What I mean is—”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shot back and slammed the wall panel.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re absolutely correct. I don’t know. But I see the way you care about this town and—”
“I’m really not talking about this. Can we drop it for now?”
“Of course.” America nodded. The familiarity she felt with him was an illusion. They were barely more than strangers, and there she was, accusing him of lackadaisical governance with no evidence. The fact was clear, they didn’t know each other in a way that allowed her to speak so frankly with him. Her goal was to help bring back Christmas to the Cove so that she would have something to write about.
Leo took America’s hand and led her back down the hall and out to the sunny steps. She shied away from the sun as her eyes adjusted. A sound like bubbling soda fizzing in a can was all around them, and she couldn’t account for such an unnerving noise.
“What is that?”
“Wait for it . . .” Leo said. “Wait for it.”
Edwin looked over his shoulder from down below with a grin spread from ear to ear. His gay smile put her at ease. With a reaction such as Pa’s, whatever they were waiting for couldn’t be so bad.
A shriek came from beneath the street and traveled towards them like a metal snake tunneling through a granite cave. America covered her ears as water erupted in front of her and flew into the sky. She was certain she screamed at the unexpected sight, though she pretended the noise had come from someone else.
He chuckled and bit his cheek like he was trying to hide his amusement. Leo pointed back at the place where the geyser had been a moment earlier. A four-tiered fountain appeared once the spraying stopped, and the water that had been sprayed skyward froze and floated down like flurries around them.
Although her face was damp from the mist, she didn’t care. The fountain was the first thing she had seen since coming to the Cove that seemed alive as it should have been. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “But why now?”
“We call it Hope Fountain,” Leo said and moved down the steps. “People used to come here all year round and throw a coin in with a prayer for the future.”
“Why hope and not wishes, then?”
“Someone once said that a prayer is not a wish, it’s a vision of hope. So, that’s what we call it.”
