I sighed and threw my hands in the air, then followed Jack back to our table. The Peterson brothers talked to Rooster for a few minutes before making their way over to us.
Both were frowning.
"Jack, Tess," Harold said. I'd finally learned how to tell them apart. Harold parted his hair on the left, Emeril on the right. I just called them both Mr. Peterson, but I liked to know.
"We're sorry about Darryl. That boy was always a problem, but since his wife left him, he's been going around looking for fights. And now, with this UltraShopMart thing, it's worse."
"Whatisgoing on with the UltraShopMart?" I knew Aunt Ruby would fill me in, but I'd been out of the shop when the USM rep had stopped by to talk to me. Eleanor had said he had a face like a ferret and that she'd "gotten a bad feeling about him."
I'd learned that Eleanor's instincts were usually pretty good when she wasn't caught up in some crazy scheme with Lorraine or my Aunt Ruby, so I was hoping he didn't stop back by.
I doubted he would. It was probably just a courtesy call.
Or a chance to laugh at the small business owners before he bankrupted us all.
"They want to put in an enormous store, one of their all-in-one places, right on the edge of Dead End. All the business owners in town have been getting mail about it. Didn't you?"
I shook my head, but then thought about it. "I got a couple of letters from them, but I figured they were junk mail. They're on my desk back at the shop."
Speaking of the shop …
"Excuse me," I said politely, and then I called Eleanor, filled her in, and asked her what I could bring her for lunch.
"Nothing, dear. Bill is making me his famous chicken dumplings for a late lunch, and then we're meeting the travel agent to talk about honeymoon plans."
I smiled. It was lovely when good things happened to good people, and Eleanor was one of the best. Nice to hear a moment of joy on an otherwise crappy day.
I sent up a silent prayer that the dog was doing okay, too.
"Okay, I'll see you—" I glanced out the window and jumped up again. This time, the Santas were rolling around on the sidewalk, throwing punches at each other. "Jack!"
He looked, muttered something, and shoved his chair back. Then we both headed for the door, the Petersons hot on our heels. Just when we got to the door, it swung open and my new sister, Shelley, walked in carrying her backpack, wearing jeans, a Dead End Elementary jacket, and pink sneakers.
Her gaze immediately arrowed to me, and her little face crumpled.
"Tess! Why is Santa Claus fighting?"
7
Tess
Oh, no.
Shelley was only nine years old, at least for the next few days, and I'd never thought to find out if she still believed in Santa Claus. My brain stuttered to a stop.
"Um …"
Jack gave me a sideways glance, then strode over to Shelley and scooped her up for a hug.
"Jack! I'm too old to be picked up," she scolded him, but the giggles undermined her attempt to be stern.
Beyond them, I could see through the glass door that Andy had arrived on the scene and was dealing with the dueling Santas. I caught Jack's gaze and nodded to the door, and he quickly caught on, turned, and carried Shelley, who was still giggling, to our table. He gave her the seat next to him, and I sat back down and took a deep breath.
"You know, Shelley," I began cautiously. "Neither of those guys is therealSanta. They're just helpers. The real Santa lives at the North Pole, and—"
She dumped the sugar packets out onto the table, slid half of them to Jack, and rolled her eyes at me.
"IknowSanta's not real, Tess. I'm almost ten."
