Page 18 of Emma and the Elf Next Door

CHAPTER 9

Emma

A knock at the door startles me out of my melancholy. The credits forHome Aloneare rolling down my TV screen and I’m feeling so acutely alone that I’m about to give in, jump in my car and drive to Carly’s house. Even if it means crashing her family Christmas and spending the next few days watching the newlywed, newly pregnant couple make googly eyes at each other.

I wipe my tired eyes, eyes which have been overused and abused by my tears this past month, and drag myself to the door. I’m not expecting anyone, so a knock could only mean one thing.

Someone trying to convert me to some religion.

This I cannot handle.

I peek through my front window and frown when I find my front porch empty. My pulse races at the next thought to pop into my head.

It’s something from the elf next door!

Galvanised now, I fling the door open and drop to my knees, examining what he’s left for me. This time, there’s no parcel wrapped in pretty Christmas paper, and there’s no small boxfilled with decadent cookies. Instead, there’s a porcelain plate, white with a Christmas tree painted on it, and in the middle is one giant cookie. It looks like shortbread: two layers with a thick layer of jam in the middle. And there, stuck in it, is a small white flag.

I pick up the plate, my eyes scouring the area around me, looking for the hunk next door. When I find nothing but empty space, I back into my house, holding my cookie tightly with one hand, gripping his note in the other.

Dear Grinch,

I come in peace.

I have a feeling that you too areHome Alonethis Christmas Eve and thought you’d enjoy this extra special treat.

Merry Christmas!

From, Noah (your neighbour)

Noah! The elf next door has a name. And apparently very keen hearing.

I’d spent the whole day being extra quiet, watching TV with subtitles and listening to music with my ear pods, knowing my silence would freak him out. But when the time had come to watchHome Alone, a family Christmas Eve tradition I couldn’t forgo for him, I’d put the volume up ever so slightly to enjoy it more. And he’d heard it. And registered that I was, in fact, home alone.

And he’d come in peace.

What now?

I break a piece of the cookie off and pop it in my mouth. A burst of flavour explodes on my taste buds and I moan loudly.

A chuckle follows from beyond the wall.

“He can hear you!” I whisper, shuffling to my bedroom and shutting the door to groan and moan in peace. This cookie, with its light shortbread and its tartly sweet jam, is just about the bestthing I’ve ever eaten. There’s zero chance I’ll be able to eat it quietly.

“Carly!” I whisper as she answers my SOS call. I know it’s Christmas Eve, and she’s probably sharing a romantic dinner with her husband, but this cookie and flag and note right here? This is an emergency.

“Emma? What’s wrong? Why are we whispering?” she whispers back like the good friend she is. She may not know what’s going on, but she’s always willing to follow my lead.

“He left another cookie,” I tell her, wiping the crumbs from my lip, feeling forlorn. The cookie is gone. “And a white flag. And a note.”

Her worried face melts into pure bliss. “The elf did?”

I nod. “His name is Noah.”

“Ooh, good name.”

It is. But it is also not the point.

“What does the note say? And tell me about the cookie.”

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