“Not so good,” Austin said, shaking his head.
“Austin here insisted to his mom that he needed to come down here to wait for Heinz,” Murphy said. “So we’ve just been hanging out, talking about hot cocoa and stuff like that. Austin says marshmallows are excellent with hot chocolate, but I say they’re garbage. Nothing but straight-up corn syrup. Nasty stuff. You agree with me, right?”
“I love marshmallows on hot chocolate,” Kerry said, drawing closer to the fire barrel.
Austin turned puppy dog eyes to her. “Did you see Mr. Heinz?”
“No, buddy,” Kerry admitted. “I couldn’t find him. Maybe he’s staying home, because the weather is so nasty.”
“That’s what I told him,” Murphy said. “Or he went to visit family out of town. After all, it’s almost Christmas.”
“No way.” Austin’s chin was stubbornly set. “He wouldn’t leave before we finish the story.”
His face clouded over. “Maybe something bad happened.” He pointed across the street, at the pile of debris where the Brody brothers had been. “Maybe the bad guys got him. Maybe they tied him up and put him in their truck and kidnapped him.”
“No, no, no,” Murphy said quickly. He squatted down on the pavement until he was at eye level with the boy.
“Me and the brothers patched things up. They told me they took my bike and trailer for kind of a joke. A not-funny joke. But we’re cool now. They decided to sell the rest of their trees someplace else. That’s all. They wouldn’t actually hurt Heinz.”
Austin shook his head. “I still think something bad happened. We need to find Mr. Heinz.”
Murphy looked at Kerry, and then back at the little boy. “We’re trying. Okay?”
Kerry took the child’s hand in hers and squeezed it briefly, before releasing it. “You know what I think we should do? I think we should work on the story ourselves. Just you and me. As a surprise for Mr. Heinz.” She was freezing and longed to get into dry clothes and out of the cold.
“We could work inside Spammy. At the table. And draw pictures. What do you say?”
“Nuh-uh,” Austin said, shoving his mittened hands into his coat pocket.
“Austin?” Gretchen hurried up to the Christmas tree stand. “I’m sure Murphy and Kerry will let us know as soon as they find your friend. But we need to go home now and get ready to leave town in the morning.” She reached for her son’s hand, but he snatched it away.
“Mom! Noooo,” Austin exclaimed. “I have to finish my story. I have to give my present to Mr. Heinz.”
“Later,” Gretchen said, grasping the boy’s shoulders and turning him toward their building. “We have to go home. Right now.”
“Nooooo,” Austin wailed. He looked up at Kerry, his expression pleading. “Tell her. Tell her I have to stay.”
“Enough!” Gretchen said sharply. “Do you want me to tell Santa that you’re misbehaving?”
“I don’t care. I hate Santa Claus!” Austin exploded, windmilling at his mother with mittened fists. “And I hate you.”
“Hey, now!” Murphy said sternly.
The child turned his tear-streaked face to Kerry’s brother. “Tell her, Murphy. Tell her I need to stay here with you. And Kerry.”
“You can’t,” Kerry said softly, feeling as though her heart were being ripped out of her chest. “Murphy and I have work to do now, so you need to do what your mom says. And as soon as we find Heinz, we’ll let you know.”
“Come on,” Gretchen said, her voice softening. She leaned down and hefted the boy onto her hip. “We’re going home now.”
Brother and sister watched as Gretchen made her way back toward her building, with Austin sobbing and howling in protest. Murphy glanced over at Kerry. “Somehow, we gotta find that old man.”
chapter 40
Murphy visited the bodega and returned with beer and a bag of popcorn. Kerry helped herself to a handful of popcorn. “Don’t tell me this’s dinner.”
“No, this is our starter course. The main course is being delivered. Pizza. No anchovies, since you hate them, and because I’m such a sweetheart of a brother.”
Murphy threw more logs on the fire and sipped his beer. “You know, if we keep selling trees at this rate, I’m thinking we pack it up and head home on Saturday.”
“Saturday?” Kerry nearly choked on a slice of pepperoni. “Why so early?”
“Why not? We’ll easily sell out before then. What’s the matter? You getting used to camping out in the cold, listening to me snore and peeing in strangers’ houses?”
She leaned back in her rickety lawn chair and took in her surroundings. Their remaining trees were wrapped in twinkle lights, the shop windows were decorated for Christmas, and lights shone softly from the apartment buildings up and down the street. The temperature was below freezing, her feet were wet, and she was wrapped in a Big Bird sleeping bag that probably hadn’t been washed since her kindergarten days, but even with the nagging worry about Heinz’s welfare, somehow, a warm glow had settled over her. It dawned on her that in less than a month, these few crowded city blocks had become her home and these strangers now felt like neighbors.
And one of those neighbors was … something more.
“Kere?” Murphy was leaning forward, waiting for her reaction. “Look, if you’re still worried about Heinz, don’t be. We’ll find him tomorrow. I promise.”
“Okay,” Kerry said, nodding. “I believe you.”
* * *
The next day Kerry expanded her search by a couple blocks in each direction, only occasionally encountering someone who recognized Heinz. Unfortunately, none of them had seen him in recent days or knew where he lived.
Dejected, she trudged back to the stand, where she found Vic beaming with pride.
“I sold three trees, all at full price, including that last big tree some lady paid eight hundred bucks for,” Vic said. He dug in the pocket of his jacket and brought out a thick roll of bills.
“Good work,” Kerry said. “I’m gonna go grab some lunch. Do the trees need to be delivered?”
“Yeah, but I thought I’d wait until this afternoon.”
“No, go ahead and load ’em onto the bike trailer. Let’s get them delivered now, in case the weather turns nastier later.”
“You want to leave the stand unattended?” Vic looked puzzled.
“Just for an hour or so,” Kerry said. She stretched the bungee cord across the entryway and hung the CLOSED sign from it. “Go on. Scoot.”
* * *
When she got back to the stand, Murphy was awake, showered, and officially annoyed.
“Where were you? And where’s Vic? It’s our last day here. We should have had all hands on deck, selling these last trees.”
“Vic is delivering an eight-hundred-dollar tree he sold at full price,” Kerry said. “I think we can afford to take a forty-five-minute lunch break.”
“I told him to mark all the trees half off,” Murphy said.