The Christmas Grump
Rachel Lewis glanced at her wristwatch and groaned. Not even six. Wonderful. Five more hours in this seventh level of hell, otherwise known as the shopping mall one week before Christmas.
Jingle Bells blared from the mall’s sound system for the hundredth time. Rachel weaved around shoppers loaded down with bags, keeping an eye out for shoplifters and pickpockets. Normally, she stopped to chat with the cute barista in the coffee shop and the grandfatherly man working in the toy store, but today, the overworked salespeople were busy with the flood of customers, so Rachel just peeked in on the crowded stores and continued on her patrol.
Oh, yeah. Christmas—time of quiet contemplation. Right.
Her walkie-talkie flared to life. “Phillips to Lewis.” Mike’s voice was almost drowned out by Christmas carols and shouts in the background. “Where are you?”
Rachel pressed the button on her two-way radio. “Heading up to the food court.”
“Want to meet me for a quick break?”
“Sure.”
They met up in front of the pretzel stand, as they always did. Mike handed her a paper cup of coffee while Rachel bought two pretzels. “Thanks.” She sipped her coffee and, over the rim of the cup, let her gaze sweep over the crowd. “I can’t wait for this carnage to be over and for things to go back to the normal level of craziness.”
“Carnage?” Mike laughed. “Where’s your Christmas spirit?”
“Maybe one of the fourteen pickpockets and shoplifters I caught this week stole it,” Rachel said.
“Oh, come on.” Mike nudged her, nearly making her spill coffee over her light gray uniform shirt and the black tie. “Don’t be such a Christmas grump just because we’ve got a few more pickpockets and shoplifters than during the rest of the year.”
Rachel squinted against the blinking lights of the giant Christmas tree, wishing she had brought her sunglasses to work. “Oh, it’s not just the shoplifters. Or the hours of incident reports and paperwork we have to fill out for each of them. Look around. Does this look like a celebration of love, peace, and family harmony?” She pointed at a red-faced mother who yanked a little girl out of a store by her arm, making the girl cry as if she were being dragged over hot coals. They nearly collided with the stretched-out legs of a man who sat on a bench, surrounded by half a dozen shopping bags. With his glassy-eyed stare, his lolling chin, and his arms hanging limply down his sides, he looked as if he had just returned from a trip through the desert. In front of a jewelry store, a young couple was having a shouting match that nearly drowned out Bing Crosby’s White Christmas.
Mike waved around his half-eaten pretzel as if to wipe away her arguments. Crumbs landed all over the security services badge above his left breast pocket. “A few hours of stressful Christmas shopping is a small price to pay for the glow in your partner’s eyes or the happy laughter of a child when they open their presents in front of the Christmas tree.”
Rachel didn’t even have a Christmas tree. Her ex had taken her artificial Christmas tree with her when she left, and Rachel hadn’t bothered to get a new one this year. “Wow.” She forced a grin. “Were you always such a softie, or did having a family turn you into a big marshmallow?”
He flicked a piece of pretzel in her direction. “Maybe you should try it. Might help your attitude.”
Still keeping an eye on the shoppers around them, Rachel quirked an eyebrow at her colleague. “There’s one problem with that.”
“Your sexual orientation? Lame excuse! I have one word for you: sperm bank.”
“That’s two words. And it’s not the problem I was talking about.” Rachel threw her empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can and walked away from the pretzel stand.
Side by side, they patrolled the food court and then rode the escalator to the lower level of the mall.
“What then?” Mike asked after a while.
Rachel stopped in front of a store and let her gaze wander over a group of teenagers lingering in front of a locked glass display holding gaming consoles. “In case you forgot: I’m single.” After growing up as the only child of a hardworking single mom, she knew she would never have a child if she wasn’t co-parenting with another woman.
“Yeah, what’s up with that? Must be...what? Ten months since Jessica dumped your sorry ass?”
“Twelve,” Rachel mumbled.
Mike gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Shit, I forgot. Happened over the holidays, right? Is that why you’re moping around, being a Christmas grump?”
“I’m not moping around, and I’m not a Christmas grump.” Rachel folded her arms over her chest. The ugly end of her last relationship was just one more reason to hate this time of year.
A salesclerk joined the teenagers in front of the display case, so Rachel and Mike continued on their way down the row of stores.
“Why don’t you come over and have dinner with us on Christmas Eve?” Mike asked. “The kids would love to see you again, and Beth’s parents will be there too.”
Rachel shook her head. A pity invitation for the adopted spinster aunt. No, thanks. “Maybe another time.” She would order pizza, ignore the sappy movies on TV, and go to bed early.
Mike groaned. “Ah, come on, Rach. You can’t leave me alone with my in-laws.”
“Sorry, pal. You married the woman, so her parents are all yours.” She had never met Beth’s parents, but if only half of Mike’s stories were true, she had no desire to change that anytime soon.
They passed a toy store, and Mike slowed to look at something displayed in the window. “Hey, think Hannah would like that horse over there?”
Rachel glanced at the pink horse, took in its braided, glittering mane, and shrugged. “I haven’t got a clue what a six-year-old would want for Christmas. Why don’t you ask Beth?”
“Yeah, I better. She wasn’t happy when I bought Josh that radio-controlled hummer last Christmas.”
Rachel snorted. “Because Josh was barely two. The only kid playing with that hummer was you.”
The reflection in the store window showed her Mike’s rueful grin.
Something on the other side of the glass caught Rachel’s attention.
The aisles looked like Egypt during the locust plague. Children and adults swarmed the toy store, leaving salesclerks scrambling to restock. In the middle of all the hustle and bustle, one child stood motionless.
The boy—Rachel guessed him to be around six or seven—stared up at a box of Legos, not even looking away when other shoppers jostled him. Tousled black hair stuck out from under a knit cap, and a pair of gloves made of the same wool dangled around his neck. From where Rachel was standing, it looked as if the thumb of the left glove was a bit too long. The boy’s coat seemed to be clean and warm, but the colors were faded as if a succession of other kids had worn it before him, and his boots looked two sizes too big for a boy of his size.
His clothing told a story that Rachel knew only too well. Whoever the kid’s parents were, they couldn’t afford the brand-name clothes the mall sold. And they sure as hell can’t afford the overpriced toys and gadgets in that store.
“What are you staring at?” Mike had turned toward her.
Rachel didn’t glance away from the kid in the toy store. “That boy.”
“Boy?” Mike chuckled. “And here I thought you had an eye only for the ladies.”
“Very funny.” Rachel dragged him around by the shoulder. “Keep an eye on that boy over there. Look at how he’s staring at those toys. I think he’s about to become arrest number fifteen.”
“There you go again, being a Christmas grump,” Mike said. “Why do you always assume the worst? Maybe the Lego robot is on his wish list for Christmas, and he just can’t decide if he wants his parents to get the red or the blue one.”
“Yeah, right.” Christmas was turning her colleague into a sentimental fool, but she would keep an eye on the boy.
Their walkie-talkies crackled. A tinny voice shouted, “Phillips? Lewis? I need help in the parking lot. Someone’s jacking a car!”
One hand on the Taser hooked to her duty belt, Rachel started to run, Mike right behind her.
When they passed the toy store again ten minutes later, dragging two cuffed teenagers to the security office, the boy was gone.
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Copyright © 2024 All Rights Reserved
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
