Scrooged Over Read online

  “What?” Jordan asked.

  “Look what he’s doing now.”

  “Kissing. They’re kissing. I knew it.”

  “Mindy. Really? No.”

  “Oh.”

  “That is Deke?”

  “It is,” Mindy said.

  “Look close.”

  Mindy did.

  “Damn him!” Dudley muttered.

  “At least they’re not kissing,” Jordan said.

  “I’d rather they were.” Dudley slammed down his iPad. “Okay. Maybe not.”

  “Calm down. With all the cars and people milling about, it’s hard to tell exactly, but…. Yeah.” Mindy picked up the tablet. “I’m pretty sure he’s… doing what you think he is.”

  DUDLEY CONFRONTED Deke with proof the next morning—on the air. “Caught in the act. The prankster becomes the pranked. You’ve been exposed.”

  “It’s World Naked Gardening Day all over again.”

  “Why, Deke?”

  “Because people like to take their clothes off?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Deke sighed. “Surveillance cameras. I should have known. Anyone technically proficient enough to set their light display to music….”

  “They’re for security.” That was in case Gramps was listening. “And don’t change the subject. Why would you sabotage my decorations—over and over again?”

  “Because I hate Christmas and I wanted us to have something in common?” Deke thought a shake of his messy mop and the dimples when he smiled his devilish grin were going to rescue him. “It was just a practical joke.”

  Shit. It was working.

  “I was going to come clean this morning anyway—a big reveal.” He spread his legs when he said it, perhaps subconsciously, perhaps out of habit. “I did it for the Deke Suckers. Every night, I would go over and fold one of those tiny little copper wires on some random mini lightbulb the wrong way so a whole row would go out. It was driving him crazy,” Deke said proudly to his minions. Then he played a sample of that “ha-ha!” kid from The Simpsons. “And hey, if I hadn’t’a done it, your wallet might still be lying out there.”

  “Fat lot of good it does me now. Once you cancel your credit cards and freeze your bank account, it’s not that easy to undo it. Overnight delivery of a new card is actually going to take three days because—”

  “Because of the stupid holiday strain on the postal service.”

  “You got it. And the ‘twenty-four hours’ the bank needs turns into seventy-two. Everything will be back to normal December twenty-sixth. Literally I’m a day late and a dollar short.”

  “You’re sounding pretty grouchy, Dudster. The light thing, yeah, you can blame me for that, but everything else is just….”

  “Just what? Just everything else?” Dudley spat.

  “You’re really pissed at me?” Deke seemed surprised by that.

  “I got only about half of what I usually collect when it comes to canned goods to donate—in a bigger town than the one I lived in back in Nebraska. What if it was because the lights were jacked up every night?”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh.”

  “And I probably dropped my wallet out there undoing what you did another night.”

  Dudley could see Mindy. She kept opening her mouth to say something to veer them off the argument and onto something else, but then she said nothing. Maybe they were making good radio. Dudley didn’t know. Table-flipping, hair-pulling, slapfests were all the rage in reality TV; why not on Deke and Dudley?

  “So maybe I have a right to be pissed at you, Deke. I can’t even go buy my prime rib roast today because I’m cash and credit locked.”

  “Dude… you were on the phone five minutes after”—Deke did a lispy feminine affectation—“‘Eek! I can’t find my wallet’ cancelling every card and bank account you have. You could have at least cashed a check first. Maybe you jumped the gun. What was the rush?”

  “You… I….” The only words Dudley could think of were four-letter ones the FCC didn’t allow. “I don’t sound like that. And maybe I was too frazzled to think straight.”

  “From all the holiday bs. I rest my case.”

  “Suddenly you’re Mr. Know-It-All. Where were you with that check suggestion before?”

  Deke actually chuckled, which made Dudley want to smack him in the face with a string of festive anal beads. “I didn’t know what you were doing, otherwise I would have said something. I also didn’t know this was, you know, all my fault yet.”

  “Well, it is. We finally agree on something. And the rush, by the way, was to be safe… to do the safe thing. I was sure I’d lost my wallet on mass transit. They call it that because tons of people ride it every day. And it’s Christmas, and that—”

  “Makes people suckier, greedier, and far more likely to steal your identity and run up your balances illegally?”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.”

  “But you thought it, and it’s kind of true. More than kind of. Desperate…. Maybe some people are desperate, if not sucky, because they think they have to buy their loved ones the best of this or that, or else their kids want some expensive toy they saw on TV and they won’t be happy unless they get it.”

  “Maybe Christmas sentiment makes people more likely to turn in a lost wallet. You ever think of that?”

  “And maybe reindeer really fly. While we’re at it, Dud, maybe you should admit that you went overboard with the cookie thing too.”

  “What cookie thing?”

  “When you tossed all your cookies after I claimed I tossed mine.”

  “Claimed?” The steam was rising. “Claimed? That was all some colossal hoax too?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Deke….” Mindy finally spoke.

  “You pretended my cookies made you sick to… to make me look like a moron on the air?”

  “Kind of. That’s what we do here, right? I didn’t think you’d freak out and trash a thousand cookies. I didn’t think you’d go that far.”

  “You thought I’d risk poisoning half the town instead? What else? What else are you responsible for?”

  “Well, I didn’t make your cats puke on all the gifts and wrapping paper, if that’s what you’re asking. And I certainly didn’t get you kicked out of the choir. The Christmas card thing…. I’m sorry that happened, even though I had nothing to do with it.”

  “You don’t seem sorry. Wait. What Christmas card thing?”

  “Oh. You don’t know about that?”

  “Um… no.”

  “Deke….” Mindy tried again to rein him in.

  “This one’s kind of funny, Dud.”

  “I’m not sure he’s going to think so. We got a memo, Dudley.”

  “A hard copy,” a breathy female voice from the console said.

  “And electronic.” Deke grabbed at Dudley’s Christmas to-do list pile. He shuffled through paper after paper until he found the page he was apparently looking for, the one he handed back to Dudley.

  “A jam in the delivery chute has resulted in correspondence from several floors not making it down to the mailroom.” Dudley read. “Oh.” He got the implication.

  “All those Christmas cards.” Deke dragged out the four words. “Seems they got stuck partway down the tube when you jammed them all in weeks ago.”

  “No one really noticed for a while.” Mindy picked up the story for listeners, as Dudley could read it for himself. “Because some mail goes down there and some gets picked up or dropped right off. I guess one of our bill payments got missed.”

  “Lucky we still have power, mister, after your shenanigans.” Deke wagged a finger.

  Dudley glared.

  “And when accounting swore they went down the chute,” Mindy said, “someone checked.”

  “Oh. Sorry I screwed up the inner workings. And I screwed up Christmas. I wondered why we didn’t get very many cards this year. I guess you were right about that too, Deke. You don’t get o
ne, you don’t send one. That’s the way the frigging world works. And no one got one from me, so….”

  “Dudley… Are you okay?”

  “I’m good, Mindy. Thanks for asking. Congratulations, Deke. You win.”

  “I win?”

  “The contest. The bet. The results are in, right? Let’s announce them.”

  “And we’ll do that right after this.” Mindy wanted to build suspense, apparently.

  “The outcome was… what?” Dudley reached for the placard Deke had created, tallying each side. He kept talking, whether anyone but the two people in the room could hear him or not. “Looks like literally ten to one, right? Like, seventy billion people sent ugly, nasty, rotten Christmas videos, and four, maybe five, sent in nice ones.” He tossed the poster board toward Deke’s head. “I get it.” Dudley turned his palms toward the ceiling. “Christmas sucks. It’s a giant pain in the ass, and no matter how hard you try to make it perfect, something’s going to come along and Scrooge things up. You got me, Head Deke Sucker. I’ve come to the dark side. I’m right there with you. Now hear this!” Dudley used the echo effect. “Screw the decorations. Screw the cookies. Screw the cards, the prime rib, the singing, the wrapping, the homemade gifts, and you know what….” Dudley yanked off his shoes and then bared both feet. “Screw the damned socks.” He threw them right in Deke’s face.

  “I’d try to calm you down, but I’m kind of hoping you’re wearing Christmas undies again.”

  “Not funny.” Dudley stood to walk away.

  “I didn’t mean to….” Deke reached out. “Stop. Come on. We have a show to finish.”

  Dudley paused at the soundproof door.

  “I didn’t really want you to go all Grinch on me.” Deke stopped to think. Dudley could tell by the way his brows came together. The lines on his forehead deepened, and he did that thing where he chewed on one side of his mouth. It was sexy and maddening. “All right. I guess I did. But only because you… you think you have to do so much. You did too much.”

  “For a good reason, Deke.”

  “To make Christmas perfect,” Deke said scornfully.

  “Yes. Yes. That’s exactly why.”

  “For what? For who?”

  “Allen Erickson, for one.”

  “Who?”

  “The kid who lit the display, who’s going to have to move away from his house, his school, his friends, and maybe his dog.”

  “Oh.”

  “And Gramps, Deke. I have to make this the best Christmas ever for Gramps because what if… what if it’s the last one he remembers?”

  “Oh.”

  “But your grandfather…. He’s doing so well,” Mindy said.

  “Exactly. He’s doing well right now. This Christmas. And next Christmas is eleven months, three weeks, and five days away. Fifty-one point seven weeks. Three hundred and sixty-three days, guys. Time… time is not our ally in this.”

  They finished the show. Dudley, trooper that he was, also a bit of a thespian from back in Nebraska community-theater circles, duplicated some of his tantrum because he knew it made for good entertainment, and they’d left the listeners hanging. He and Deke discussed the blind date Dudley would be forced into that evening.

  Deke repeated some of what he’d recorded for the next day’s show, all about how Dudley deserved only the best people in his life. “The guy is…. He’s kind, gentle, devoted, and generous. I haven’t been hitting the eggnog early either. As out of character as it might be for me to say these things… as much as I love yanking his chain….” There was some extra eyebrow movement with that one. “This pain in my ass who sits across from me is a pretty amazing person who…. Well, anyone who ends up with him is one lucky SOB.”

  And then they signed off for ten days’ vacation. Everything that would air until January third was previously recorded. It was all in the can.

  “So about this date….”

  Dudley made a face.

  “We can come up with a story by New Year’s. You don’t have to go, but….”

  “But…?” Dudley looked at the acoustic tile above.

  “No. Look at me, Dud.” Deke made sure Dudley did by placing a finger on his chin and turning his face. “I think you’re going to like it… if you do go.”

  “You mean….” Dudley could hardly catch his breath with Deke’s fingertips so close to his lips.

  “A quiet dinner. Private. Romantic, even…. Everything I said on the air, I believe it. You… you’re frigging perfect.”

  “Hardly.”

  “Show me your ass. I bet you have wings.” Deke had moved his hand, bringing it to rest on Dudley’s chest.

  “Is that where they’d be… the wings?”

  Deke laughed. “You’re such a dork. Seriously try not to be too pissed at me. Work is work, and I get paid big bucks to be an asshole sometimes. Maybe we can look past that, though. I put a lot of thought into this date thing. Long before today. Before the bet, even.” Deke actually seemed a bit befuddled. It was pretty cute—even if he was an asshole. “I’m not going to say anything else. Go home. Relax. Or do a million things. Whatever. Just show up at the restaurant with an open mind. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  6

  DUDLEY’S HEART was racing as he entered the eatery. The decorations were elegant and traditional—pine, twinkling white lights, candles, lots of white linen, and burgundy and forest-green velvet. Deke had chosen a high-end establishment, but not one that served fancy food. The menu was a mouthwatering blend of seafood and beef, “the tenderest cuts cooked simply and to perfection,” the website said, with decadent sides and desserts.

  Dudley wasn’t thinking about the food, though. He was thinking about his date. As the hostess led him toward a secluded corner table away from prying eyes, he thought, Nice. Deke would definitely want us in a corner, even though, as Deke had once mentioned, neither of them were instantly recognizable.

  Was Dudley still pissed? A little bit. But that sexual tension thing Mindy had cited way back—this was a perfect night to put that to the test, and maybe relieve some of it after cheesecake or something flambéed.

  “Here you go.” The hostess swept her hand over a tiny table for two.

  Deke’s back was to Dudley. He rose, all broad-shouldered and husky, the bottom of his jacket cutting across the middle of his beautifully curved ass. Then he turned. “Hey.”

  “Oh.” It wasn’t Deke.

  “You might not recognize me out of uniform.”

  “You’re my UPS man.”

  “I am. Randy.”

  “Yes.”

  “Deke thought we might hit it off.”

  They did. Conversation was easy. They laughed often. Randy even sang along quietly to the pianist in the corner. It was sexy as hell, and as Dudley drove home alone, he tried to come up with someone nice to steer in Randy’s direction. Maybe in a couple of months, they could try again with each other. Dudley needed time, though, to get over Deke now that he’d finally gotten it into his head that there was nothing between them but bawdy, sophomoric humor and work.

  DUDLEY HAD barely fallen asleep when he heard a car horn at the crack of dawn. “Shut up!” Dudley muttered at whoever had the nerve to disturb him and his morning wood. “It’s way too early.”

  Blitzen yawned. He agreed.

  Still, the asshole tooted again.

  “Scrooge you!” The honking was right outside Dudley’s window. It wasn’t time for the mailman or the UPS truck. How could Dudley face Randy anyway? The guy was a sweetie pie. “And you’re an idiot,” Dudley said aloud.

  “Hey, kiddo,” Gramps called. “Come down.”

  Dudley groaned, not at all in the mood for company, not at all in the mood for Christmas. Sure, everyone he had shopped for would still get gifts, just not on Christmas Day. Dudley had called the head of the Community Action Center to explain his dilemma, right after calling his credit card companies and the bank. Courtney said she understood, but Dudley could tell she was
disappointed—sad, even. How could she not be? He’d made a promise and he’d failed. Kids—little kids—were going to wake up the next morning to nothing, and it was all his fault.

  “Duddy, hurry.”

  “Oh God!” He sprang from the bed then, like Papa in The Night Before Christmas. “Gramps, you hurt?” Dudley ran down the stairs in nothing but his long johns, his favorite winter sleep apparel. “Gramps?”

  He looked fine, standing in the open front doorway as Blitzen charged past. “It’s Deke.”

  It was, and his orange Jeep was stuffed to capacity. “I picked up your layaways,” he called toward the house.

  “You… what?” Dudley stepped onto the porch as Deke got out and went to the back.

  “Your lists. You left them all behind.” He started pulling out bags. “I went and tended to all your errands. In case you were still in a mood—or in bed with the UPS man.”

  “No. Just… just me and Blitzen.”

  The dog looked back at the sound of his name, but then put his snout right back in Deke’s ass.

  “You know, the mall isn’t bad at 5:00 a.m., even on Christmas Eve.” Deke made his way to the house, Blitzen not far behind. “We have to drop the donations off before noon, what’s-her-name at the center says.”

  “Courtney.”

  “Yeah. I talked to her yesterday to see if it was still possible.”

  “You did?”

  “I did. She’s coming in this morning. Come on!” Deke stood there with bags no one had taken from him. “You can pay me back when you regain access to cash. Or you don’t even have to. Whatever. Get to wrapping.” He handed some of his haul over to Gramps and some to Dudley. “These all for the center, or you got a whole shitload of family your grandfather never told me about? You know, when he and I were hanging out so I could mess with your head.”

  “Some are for Allen… like I said,” Dudley explained, after setting down the bags and following Deke back out barefoot for more. “But… you know those giving trees? They had one at the bank. I plucked a few leaves… and then a few more… and then, when it was the last day to take one, I took all the ones that were left. If someone asked for superhero pajamas, I got action figures too. And the girl who wanted the Frozen DVD…. I got the doll and the outfits… just in case the cold did bother her. Not from TV, though.”