“Thank you,” Trey said, giving Marty a swift hug. “They’ll go on my bookshelf, since I don’t have a fireplace with a mantel.” He chuckled. “Or without one.”
They continued wandering, checking out other booths. Marty stopped at one, eyeing a blown-glass Santa dressed in Mardi Gras colors. “I saw one like this when I was in New Orleans a couple of years ago and almost bought it.”
“Why didn’t you?” Trey asked.
Marty shrugged. “I’d already spent more than I should have.”
“But you wanted it.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Then it’s yours, and do notargue. Consider it tit-for-tat.” Trey corralled the guy running the booth, pointed to the ornament, and asked him to box it up. He did, Trey paid for it, and then handed it to Marty, saying, “Merry Christmas.”
“You didn’t have to…”
“Get it for you?”
“No.” Marty grinned. “Say the dreaded words.”