Chapter 18

I’d clean up the dinner stuff, close the shop, and fall into bed unable to do nothing else, even work on the special orders.

* * * *

The day before Christmas, we was zombies. We didn’t care about the customers that rushed in demanding to be helped. We’d stare blankly at them, nod, and walk off, sometimes to get what they wanted, sometimes to get away from them.

We didn’t care about money. We only wanted to get to bed and sleep for a week solid.

Hazel’s farm lunch for employees didn’t happen. Everybody slinked home saying they was sorry, but couldn’t do it.

Jimmy staggered into the shop as I started to shut off the lights. Almost all the shelves were empty. I’d told everybody to go on home and closed early. Old Town had started to look like a Ghost Town, with no shoppers in sight. I’d banked the fire and was waiting for him.

“You up to going to the farm, Butch?”