Bertie Mayhew’s arms itched from the new glass cleaning solution, and all he wanted was one of them cinnamon candy canes from Leffler’s.
Tucker Cziklas stole a fur coat from the coat check at Whistle Mountain Country Club.
You can’t sell a stolen fur coat in Orchid Bluff, because everyone who wants one can afford a new one.
You can’t get cinnamon candy canes or anything else at Leffler’s after midnight, so Bertie was rushing to finish the dishes at Saormina’s.
Tucker Cziklas knew he couldn’t sell the fur coat, he just wanted to see how long he could wear it before someone said something.
Then he’d shoplift cinnamon candy canes from Leffler’s and ditch the coat.
The snow was falling and Orchid Bluff was starting to look even more like a postcard than it normally did.
Tucker Cziklas thought about going into Saormina’s to show Molly Hebert the fur coat, but Saormina’s was closed, the last tables finishing drinks.
Molly saw Tucker through the window and she grimaced like when the gnocchi was too hot to eat.
She hated Tucker, she knew Tucker had a thing for her.
Molly loved Bertie. Molly wanted a gentle, kind man like Bertie, except Bertie’s mom had a stroke in childbirth, and he had some cognitive issues, some issues Tucker Cziklas said such rude things about that Molly regretted not spitting too-hot-to-eat gnocchi in his face.
Molly wondered why Tucker was wearing his mom’s fur coat, it looked ridiculous.
She took a bus tub of glasses back to Bertie.
“Want a root beer or something Bertie?”
Bertie shook his head negative but said thank you.
Molly had never heard him say no. He seemed to be incapable.
“I want to hurry to get to Leffler’s. Cinnamon candy cane.”
Bertie smiled like he could taste it.
Molly looked at the clock and the bus tub.
No way was Bertie going to make it.
“I’ll finish this last tub, Bertie. Hustle over to Leffler’s.”
Bertie shook his head, fast, white spittle forming at the left corner of his mouth.
“Artie will fire me.”
Molly shook her head back and walked through the hall to the office.
“Artie, I’m gonna wash Bertie’s last bus tub. Glasses and shit. Let him punch out, ‘kay?”
“Is he sick?”
“No, he just wants to get to Leffler’s before they close.”
“Whatever,” Artie Saormina said. “
I don’t care who does ‘em, long as they get done.”
Molly promised Bertie he wouldn’t be fired and Bertie, hesitantly, punched out.
“Be careful walking over there, Bertie. Wet snow is really coming down.”
Bertie said “Ok, thank you,” and walked out the back door of Saormina’s, tripping on an empty box of pork loin as he went.
Molly looked at the clock.
It was gonna be close.
Molly thought about calling Leffler’s and asking Sarah Leffler not to close until Bertie got there.
She poured herself a coffee drink, heavy on the Bailey’s, thinking Sarah wasn’t likely to answer the phone this close to close anyway, and started on the last bus tub.
***
Bertie Mayhew scratched his arms and rocked.
The policeman asked him confusing questions.
He repeated what he knew.
Leffler’s was closed when he got there.
He didn’t know why there was blood in the snow.
He picked up the fur coat because he had walked home from Saormina’s every night he worked since his first day on September 12, 2015 and had never found a fur coat.
He knew fur coats were worth money.
He knew people left things in pockets like IDs.
He didn’t find an ID or a wallet. Just cinnamon candy canes and a lip balm.
He would have given the coat back.
He didn’t want a fur coat.
The policeman seemed to get angry.
What about the blood on the coat and the snow?
He knew Bertie’s name, but Bertie didn’t know how to say the name on the policeman’s name tag.
He called the policeman sir, and apologized for taking one of the cinnamon candy canes in the coat.
He would pay the person back for the cinnamon candy cane.
The policeman said “Fuck the candy canes!”
Bertie didn’t think that was very nice. He wished he could go back and finish washing the last bus tub.
Molly was so nice, and everything else in the world was weird and mean.
***
Molly Hebert left her car in the Saormina’s lot. The snow was coming down so hard, they predicted nine inches or more.
Sometimes the plow at Orchid Crest Apartments plowed her part way in.
She had a pleasant buzz on, plus caffeine from the coffee.
The snow was pretty.
She passed Leffler’s, hoped Bertie got his candy canes.
Artie would give Bertie a twenty dollar bill as a Christmas bonus.
Molly got Bertie a scarf last year, but he never wore it.
She wondered what she could get him this year.
Maybe a gift card to Leffler’s.
Maybe kiss him and tell him he was sweet.
Would that be nice, or would that be weird?
She crossed the Orchid Crest courtyard.
Tucker Cziklas was sitting on her apartment steps in a tank top, holding a wad of wet snow against the back of his head.
She froze before Tucker could see her, and her arms started to itch.
***
I worked as a cook in a bar once. This story reminds me of it. It's great, very descriptive.
Did Bertie clock Tucker???