Christmas Wishes

“Thank you, dear!” Ms. Vincent called back as she exited the store. The door chimed shut and the store was quiet for a moment.

Molly then turned towards Nicholas, placing the wad of bills into his hand. “The town square lets local businesses submit items for auction during the parade. The town makes money on the auction, and we make a little extra money selling tickets to it. Your five minute time limit would’ve cost us $150.”

“You could’ve just asked her if she wanted to buy tickets as soon as you were done checking her out,” Nicholas replied stubbornly. He still had his watch out timing her.

“No, I couldn’t have, because then it would feel like a sale,” Molly explained. “Ms. Vincent isn’t a woman who likes to be sold. She likes to be approached like an old friend. And you wouldn’t cut your friend off in the middle of one of their stories, would you?”

“Time is money,” he replied.

Molly’s eyes drifted towards Nicholas’ ever-present watch, and she second-guessed her initial response. “Actually, maybe you would cut your friend off in the middle of one of their stories...”

“You’re seriously suggesting that we take our sweet time with each and every customer who walks in?” Nicholas seemed flustered by the mere idea. “No matter how long it takes?”

“No, Nicholas. That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Molly sighed. He just saw a customer as money, rather than an investment. She took the cash from him and neatly into the register. “I’m saying that there’s something valuable in getting to know your customers, and not just seeing them as little blips on your store’s timer that need to be hand

led as soon as possible. Taking your time with people is worth it. It always is.”

“It’s not very efficient,” he replied, crossing his arms.

Molly sighed. She wasn't sure if she was helping or hurting her case.

“Mr. Brownstone’s on the phone! He said he wants to speak to a grown-up!” Liam interrupted, shoving the phone into Molly’s hands. She gave Nicholas a small smile before positioning the phone to her ear.

“Hello? Mr. Brownstone? Did you want me to set aside your usual order of lights?” Molly asked pleasantly as she reached for a nearby paper and pen.

“Actually, my dear, I was wondering if you might deliver those lights to my home this year. It’s a bit rough for me and the missus to get around with all this beautiful snow,” Mr. Brownstone explained, his voice wheezy. “Would that be possible? Or are we out of luck this Christmas?”

“You’re never out of luck at Christmastime, Mr. Brownstone,” Molly assured him. “We'll bring them over. Does sometime during lunch sound good?”

“That's perfect. Thank you so much. You're an angel.” Mr. Brownstone’s overwhelming gratitude showed in his voice. “We’ll see you around noon. Can’t wait to see what kind of lights we’ll get this year.”

“I can't wait either! I’ll see you soon,” Molly promised. She hung up the phone, and handed it back to Liam, who skipped away to place it back in its proper phone-stand.

“Can’t wait? See you soon?” Nicholas shook his head, not meeting her eyes. “Must be someone important. That's some nice flirting. Mr. Brownstone must be a special customer.”

“Really? You think I'm flirting with Mr. Brownstone?” Molly asked, a laugh coming into her voice. “Mrs. Brownstone, his wife of thirty-five years, would certainly have something to say about that.”

Nicholas’ mood seemed to brighten at that bit of information, although Molly couldn’t imagine why. She then wondered if somewhere, deep down, Nicholas was a sucker for a lifelong romance, too.

She checked out more customers and sold another five tickets to the auction. Nicholas only mentioned her speed once. Finally, around lunchtime, things started to slow down. There weren't any customers in line and if any did need her, Liam would let her know.

“Okay, let’s head to the back,” she said to Nicholas. “Your parents told me which box to get the lights from.”

“Did they already pay in advance?” Nicholas followed behind Molly, who was walking towards the back of the store. “Or do we accept payment upon delivery?”

Molly shook her head and turned on the lights to the storage area. She found the box marked with the Brownstone name up on a high shelf. She thought she could reach it if she stood on her tip toes, but it was too heavy to move with just her fingertips barely reaching it. She glared at the box, trying to remember where she last put the ladder.

That's when Nicholas reached over her, easily getting the box with his extra height. His body bumped into hers as he did so, and she blushed with the connection. He smiled as he handed the box to her and she set it on the ground.

“Thanks.” Molly smiled at Nicholas, feeling a small flutter in her chest. She quickly opened the box and began to look through it. “And no. The Brownstones don’t pay for their lights. They’re both retired. I think they make enough to live comfortably, but Christmas lights aren’t exactly a financial necessity.”

“So my parents are in the habit of giving away free product?” Nicholas sighed with exasperation as he leaned against one of the shelves.

“Your parents are in the habit of helping those who’ve helped them. The Brownstones were some of their first customers. They came in and bought things when no one else did, and then they went and told their friends to give the place a chance,” Molly explained. “They placed some big orders that really helped your parents out that first year. Since your parents were new to town, people weren’t too interested in shopping here. You know how it goes. Small town. Big suspicion.”

“Yeah, the small-town demographic is a loyal one.” Nicholas glanced around the backroom. “And that loyalty is definitely worth something...”

Molly dug around in the box, pulling out boxes of lights and arranging them on the floor. She looked up to see Nicholas staring absent-mindedly at a box of dried mistletoe.