Christmas in Evergreen. Nancy Naigle

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      It was moments like this that Allie, for just a nanosecond, wished she hadn’t sold her reliable Ford Excursion when Grandpa had died and left her his truck. It had been his pride and joy; then again, he’d been an ace mechanic. He’d done the full body-off restoration on it over a two-year period. It was factory down to the rivets, as he’d liked to say. He could work on anything from kitchen appliances to tractors, and he’d taught her plenty over the years. She wished now she’d paid even closer attention. On a bright note, she’d gotten pretty good at doctoring up the old truck to get it going again.

      She walked around to the front of the truck, pushed the wreath that hung from the hood ornament to the side, and jimmied the latch on the hood, coaxing it to release.

      It squeaked as she raised it. She reached over the shiny radiator, down inside the engine compartment toward the distributor cap, and got to work. It would’ve been a lot easier if she’d been a couple of inches taller. She lifted one leg off the ground, stretching to give the wires a good jiggle and checking for anything loose. Her road calls took her down rough country lanes sometimes. She assumed that was why sometimes, just a simple wiggle made all the difference.

      “You could’ve walked to DC by now.”

      Allie almost bumped her head on the hood twisting toward Michelle Lansing. She’d recognize her voice anywhere. She extricated herself from the truck and turned to see Michelle marching toward her, carrying a box wrapped in blue Christmas paper that almost matched her coat. It was filled with a half dozen giant, glittery Styrofoam snowflakes.

      “Don’t we have enough real snow?”

      “Oh, this is for the Christmas festival.” Michelle lifted the box to make her point. Her brown curls bounced with each word. Glitter sparkled on the lapel of her coat. “You know, the one you’re going to miss?”

      “Yes, I’m aware I’ll be missing the Christmas festival. Thank you for the reminder.” Allie made one last tweak under the hood.

      “I’ll tell you, whoever decided to take over after you planned this thing is crazy.”

      Allie snickered as she twisted to see her friend. “You’re taking over the planning!” She’d talked Michelle into it when she’d decided to make the big move to DC.

      “Like I said…”

      Allie got a good laugh out of that. She’d loved planning the festival. Yes, it was a lot of work, but everyone in town looked forward to it all throughout the year. It had been a labor of love for her, but she’d been doing it for so long, it really didn’t seem all that complicated anymore. Not so unlike making your first Thanksgiving dinner for a crowd. It was scary as heck, but after a few years, you knew exactly what order to cook things in so everything was done at the same time, and it seemed like a breeze. Michelle would have it down pat soon, too.

      She slammed the hood and turned to Michelle as she brushed her hands together to get the grease from her fingers.

      “Oh, boy. Don’t tell me you’re taking this thing to DC.”

      “Of course I am,” Allie said. “This was my grandpa’s truck.” She gave the rounded curves a loving pat. “I love this truck.”

      “Well, it obviously doesn’t love you.”

      “Why are we friends again?” Allie teased.

      “Because I’m the only one who will tell you that you are never going to get this thing to start.”

      Allie straightened the live wreath that hung from the hood. “Oh, yeah? Watch this.” She gave Michelle a cocky nod, then crossed her fingers it would start. Holding her breath, she dropped into the driver’s seat and turned the key. Without a moment’s hesitation, the truck started right up. “See. It worked!” She was as surprised as Michelle was, but she’d never admit it.

      “Great!” Michelle trudged through the yard, leaving a path in the snow all the way to the truck. “Now you can take me to town hall.”

      “No. I have to get to the airport,” she said.

      “It’s on the way!” Michelle put the box of snowflakes on the middle of the bench seat. “And this box is awkward. So let’s go.” She slid in and pulled the door closed.

      Allie stared at her friend. This was exactly the reason Michelle was the right person to take over the duties of the Christmas Festival. She was bossy and determined.

      If town hall weren’t on the way, she’d make her get out of her truck right now. But Michelle had a point. It was just a few blocks down the road. In a town the size of Evergreen, there wasn’t much that wasn’t along the route.

      One way in. One way out.

      She still couldn’t get used to the remodeled town hall building. Once an all-red brick building that used to be the school, it was now sided in a soft dove gray lapboard with white trim, accented with cranberry-colored doors. It had been a great improvement; it was just strange to see the light-colored building in this spot.

      This year’s Christmas Festival banner had already been hung high above the doors. Never an easy task. She was delighted that they’d kept the same design she’d created long ago. The tri-colored, weather-resistant banner had snowy-white Christmas trees in each corner and a green ribbon across the bottom with a bow right in the middle, like a perfectly wrapped Christmas present. Above the bow read 48th Annual Evergreen Christmas Festival. A matching banner would be hung in front of the gazebo on Main Street soon, where many of the outdoor gatherings would happen.

      People carried tall boxes as they headed inside—probably more trees to decorate. Two men hung over a ladder, trying to finish stringing lights in the huge shrubbery in front.

      On the steep stairs to the front doors on the second floor, the six-foot-tall nutcrackers dressed in all of their Christmas finery guarded the entryway. Allie had always struggled with where to put those huge nutcrackers. And there were seven of them to place. A gift from a well-loved resident long ago, they had to be as old as she was, and they were heavy. But they were tradition, so they were part of the equation, even though not a year went by that the ominous statues didn’t send at least one tiny tot crying into the arms of his parents.

      Allie stopped in front of the building and waited for Michelle to get out of the truck.

      “You’ve got to come in,” her friend pleaded.

      “I’ve got to go.”

      “But I want you to see the layout. We’re changing some things. Come on.”

      She could spare a couple of minutes for her friend. It was important to her. Besides, Allie was curious. “Okay. One minute.” Allie knew how hard Michelle had been working on this project. She left the truck running rather than risk it not starting again. “You’ve got one minute.” She hopped out and jogged to catch up with Michelle, who’d raced ahead, carrying the fake snowflakes СКАЧАТЬ