His For Christmas (8 page)

She
tipped
her
head
to
one
side,
as
if
trying
to
decide
if
he
was
insulting
or
complimenting
her.
“
Ye
…
yes,
of
course.
A
vagrant
like
her
is
simply
terrible
for
business.
Customers
were
starting
to
complain.
I
can
’
t
have
something
like
that
sullying
our
reputation!
”

Aware
they
were
drawing,
if
possible,
even
a
larger
crowd,
quite
possibly
even
the
whole
of
Branford,
he
tightened
his
grip
on
the
girl.
Jesus,
how
old
was
she,
anyways?
“
Of
course.
I
completely
understand.
I
understand
you
can
’
t
possibly
offer
any
sort
of
aid
or
comfort
to
this
girl
who
does
not
have
a
thing
in
the
world.
I
understand
how
this
would
put
off
your
customers,
Ms.
Blakely.
”

He
hadn
’
t
meant
to
be
so
harsh,
hadn
’
t
meant
to
be
so
damn
rude.

Or
maybe
he
had.

“
But-
”

He
made
an
angry
motion
with
his
head
and
settled
the
unconscious
girl
more
comfortably
in
his
arms.
“
Never
mind.
I
suppose
there
’
s
no
point
in
pointing
out
one
of
the
most
fundamental
qualities
of
Christmas.
Something
about
charity
towards
your
fellow
man?
”

The
painfully
skinny
woman
clapped
a
hand
to
her
mouth,
eyes
glistening
and
he
turned
away
from
her,
unable
to
keep
the
anger
at
bay
any
longer.

“
Timothy,
let
’
s
go.
”

The
boy
looked
up
from
trying
to
heft
the
sack
of
flour
onto
his
almost
nonexistent
shoulder.
In
any
other
situation,
it
might’ve
made
him
laugh.
“
But
what
about
our
things,
Mr.
Whitley?
Are
we
just
going
to
leave
it
here?
What
if
someone
takes
them?
”

A
rotund
woman
with
perpetually
red
cheeks
detached
herself
from
the
crowd,
or
rather,
elbowed
her
way
through.
“
Well,
this
is
certainly
quite
a
spectacle,
if
I
may
say
so
myself,
Mr.
Whitley.
”