Page 44 of Third Time's the Charm

Antonio was showing Ma how to make some kind of tarte, so I decided to give them space. The town square was all geared up for New Years. A few of the Christmas and Hanukkah decorations were swapped out for glittering balls and New Year signs. Some of the multicolored lights were now white. It still fake snowed on the hour, especially since today was “cold.”

Sure enough almost everyone was in pants and sweaters, starting to strip off layers as the afternoon sun warmed the air. The year we got married I was on the Minnesota team. Berlin thought it would be fun to begin the year ice fishing. So I called a guy andbam!We kissed our way into our first full year of marriage on a frozen lake.

Last year the Pythons were on the road. I was asleep, alone in my hotel room when the year flipped over.

I refused to repeat that. So what could I do instead?

I ducked into the bakery.

“Well, well, well. He returns to the scene of the crime. I got in trouble this morning for what you did.” Conchita waved her finger as she spoke.

“This morning?”

“Ay.” She waved her hand at the ceiling. “It was raining iguanas.” Her accent was heavier this morning and she rolled her r’s extra hard. It was almost musical. “We all ran outside to the shrieking. So that’s when Berlin finally asked me about the great box switch.”

“And what did you say?”

She shrugged. “The same thing I’ve been saying all along. Passion needs passion.”

“We really are friends now. For real this time.”

Conchita rolled her eyes up and stared at the ceiling, muttering to herself. Then scowled at me. “What do you want? Key lime?”

“I do want some Key lime, but I was also wondering what the plan is for New Year’s Eve this year. Golf cart parade? Fireworks?”

“No and yes. They’re doing a dance this year. Fireworks at midnight.”

“A dance? Huh. And what about tonight?” I knew of no other place that celebrated the eve of an eve the way Mistletoe Key did. Christmas Eve Eve was almost as big as Christmas Eve. New Years Eve Eve was usually the same.

“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

She leaned across the counter and lowered her voice. “The mermaids are on strike.” She rolled the r in strike so hard it almost sounded like a different word.

“Why are they on strike?” And what did that even mean? Mermaids could go on strike?

“The Pirate King.”

Cynthia’s dad? “What does he have to do with the mermaids striking?”

She appeared to be exasperated that I didn’t instantly understand. “The parrot, the python, and the iguana.”

I was genuinely lost. “Exotic invasive species?” I asked slowly.

She sighed and threw her hands in the air. “The Pirate King and the Mermaid Squadron were supposed to do the New Year’s Eve Eve show, but they got into a fight about the parrot, the python, and the iguana. The mermaids say the Pirate King is being a sexist ass and trying to make the show all about him, so they strike.”

Only on Mistletoe Key. “When did all this happen?”

“Yesterday at rehearsal. The entire island was in chaos. They had to call in Santa Claus to break it up.”

To be clear, Santa Claus is the island’s only police officer. He played Santa his first year here and earned the permanent nickname.

“So...tonight there’s nothing?”

“Not unless the mermaids end the strike.”

Hmmmm.

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