Page 13 of Miss Humbug
“The dininghall,” Marlowe whispered to me in a haughty voice. She cracked a sly grin. “Who else on earth calls their dining room a hall?”
“I heard that,” Emmaline said. “It’s stately.”
Marlowe led me by the arm into the far less crowded dining room. The roomwasbig.
She snatched the pie and tossed it on the buffet table lining the wall.
“Hey, careful. That’s homemade.”
“Sorry. Look, we need to strategize. I didn’t realize the festivities started this weekend. We were all arguing about it. What happens this weekend?”
Her hair was in one of those messy styles where pieces stuck up and out from a bun. Something told me it was less a look and more a result of the overall chaos.
“Light Up Crystal Cove is Saturday night in town square. It coincides with the Holiday Haus opening. Then, Sunday afternoon is the all-town volunteer.”
She squinted at me. “I’m going to need you to translate.”
I leaned against a chair at the table. “Saturday is the tree lighting in town square—”
“Tree lighting, meaning, just like, putting up the lights on the big pine tree?”
“No, turning them on.” How did she not know this? “A crew already put the lights on. It takes them days.”
She made a face. “Okay, so looking at a tree turn on, got it. What’s a holiday haus?”
“The German-themed outdoor market. You really don’t remember any of this?”
“You’re forgetting I avoided Holly Days from the moment I was allowed to stay home. I basically holed up in my room every December or hung out in Shelby VanHorden’s basement.”
Oh, how I’d wished back in high school I’d been invited to Shelby VanHorden’s basement. I’d wanted to be anywhere Marlowe went.
She coughed. “Anyway. What’s the volunteer thing?”
“Ah, well that’s actually newer. It’s a big round-up of projects at local businesses in the area to encourage folks to try out a volunteer assignment. It’s good advertising for the businesses. Often they get steady volunteers from it. It’s how I got into building houses.”
Her eyes softened at the edges. “You build houses?”
“For a charity, yeah. I’m a small part of a team, so it’s not like I’m a general contractor or anything.”
She studied me with her sharp gaze. “You underestimate your skills. You always have.”
I wanted to deny it, but Marlowe knew me pretty well. Her years in California aside.
“I’m good at some things, sure.” The room grew hotter. Maybe the turkey heat from the kitchen was drifting in.
Marlowe spun and walked toward the door. She abruptly turned back. “Okay. Volunteering definitely matters. I can do that. Do you have a list of the volunteer places? My brothers haven’t mentioned this at all. They probably already have their gigs lined up.”
I took my phone out. “The animal shelter is always first to book up. But there’s a respite care house—that’s for kids with disabilities or emotional needs. And the food bank, the park district—”
“The respite one. I’d like to go there. Is it full?” She peered over my shoulder, her warm breath welcome against my neck. My body progressed from simmer to an emerging boil.
Get a grip, dude.“I’ll check.”
She backed away. “I don’t know why I’m acting so helpless. I can sign myself up. What’s the website called?”
“Remember Mrs. Bartek, our Earth Sciences teacher? She runs the Facebook group used to organize the volunteering. I’ll check the latest posts.” I found the group and a pinned post with a link to a spreadsheet. “Do you want me to join you, or is that not part of the deal?”
“What deal?” Shawn Holly appeared in the doorway. He couldn’t help himself wearing a tight, short-sleeved shirt to show off his arm cannons. Eh, I could take him in a fight. I hauled around trees for a living.
