Page 14 of Emma and the Elf Next Door

I saw this CD and thought of you.

Now you can enjoy the music of Love Actually every day!

From the Grinch next door.

P.S. The cookies really are delicious!

“She can’t be serious,” I mutter through a grimace. I crumple her note in one hand and, using the other, I pour a sizeable glass of wine; another wonderful selection by her. “She’s got terrible taste in movies and music, but she knows her wine.”

As I sip my drink, the music through the wall goes up another notch. I didn’t think that was possible. Smothering a groan—I don’t want to give her the satisfaction—I type “movies to help the broken-hearted” into my google search, following my Mum’s advice.

“Aha.” A wicked smile grows on my face as I read through the search results. This isn’texactlywhat my mum was thinking when she suggested I do this, and reading through my Amazon order, I’m guessing this won’t broker a peace deal as I’d initially wanted. But the pounding music mixed with my throbbing head is robbing me of my former need to be a nice guy.

I press check-out for my wonderful same-day delivery and sit back with a smile. My next move is going to be subtle, almost guerilla-like warfare, but once it’s done, I’m sure the Grinch next door will feel the burn.

And our war of wills is bound to rage on.

CHAPTER 7

Emma

I can’t believe it’s Christmas Eve already, I think as I sprint the last several metres home, not stopping even when my vibrating watch tells me I’ve hit the 5km mark.

My laboured breathing confirms I’ve completed my morning run at a rapid pace and I know it’s because I’m so eager to get home and see what the elf next door has in store for me.

Yesterday, from my spot perched in front of my living room window, I’d watched him sit in his car staring daggers at my house, giggling to myself as I turned the music on and the volume up every time he attempted to leave. He’d sat there for so long I’d wondered if he was planning to stay the night in his car. Or just driving off. Either would have ruined the next surprise.

It was quite the challenge to find theLove Actuallysoundtrack on CD. Buying it and arranging the same-day delivery was even more difficult. And expensive. But I had felt the need to drive the needle into him just that bit more. The Spotify playlist on repeat was good and all, but it felt too transient. By leaving him a physical copy of the songs that will nodoubt haunt him for many, many months to come, I’d taken the war to the next level.

And now I was waiting for his next move.

When I’d left for my run earlier, I’d been disappointed to find my doorstep empty. It was anticlimactic to know I’d put in the effort to drop a bottle of wine and the CD off for him, only to wake to find nothing in return. A part of me wondered if I’d taken it too far, but then my eyes tripped over the 5kg bag of kitty litter, still sitting next to the front door mocking me, and I thought I hadn’t taken it far enough. The elf next door is a menace, a hot one, but definitely one deserving of my wrath.

“Oh, there it is.”

I stop a few steps from my front door and admire the parcel, wrapped in Christmas paper, waiting for me. Relief fills me, and I ignore the thrill of knowing he’s still invested in this war of wills. That he’s still invested inme.

Unable to wait any longer, I skip up to my front door, bending over to retrieve a shoe box-shaped parcel, along with a smaller box that my salivary glands now identify as the ‘cookie box’.

“Chocolate chip cookies,” I breathe as I take them in. Today he’s left me a full dozen and they’re still warm.

I glance towards his house, realising he is possibly making the cookies fresh. And if this is the case, maybe, just maybe, I need to be nicer to him. Befriend him, even. The cookies are that good.

With the parcel tucked under one arm and a cookie stuffed in my mouth, I open the door and let myself in, pumping the air conditioning up to the maximum. The temperature outside is already scorching, so I need to get ahead of it if I’m to not boil to death today.

“What’s he got in store for me in here?” I shake the box lightly and when I can stand the suspense no longer, I open it, my mouth dropping open at what I find inside.

“Facetime Carly mobile,” I command my phone, shoving another cookie in my mouth and flopping into my favourite overstuffed armchair. Which just so happens to have a perfect view out of my living room window.

“Hey, Ems.”

The pretty, flushed face of my bestie fills my screen and I lean back with a sigh, comforted by just the sight of her.

“You won’t believe what he left me today.”

Carly knows who the ‘he’ I’m referring to is. After I dropped off the ear plugs that escalated our war, I’d called her and vented about the whole thing. As a loyal friend, she’d been completely on my side and ever since she’s been demanding hourly updates on what’s going on over here. She also can’t believe after all our shenanigans (her word, not mine) that I don’t even know his name yet and secretly, I agree. After almost a week of hostile interactions, it seems weird to know him only as the ‘elf’.

And for him to know me as the ‘Grinch’.

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