Page 57 of Miss Humbug
No. Do not throw the baby Jesus.“ASHE!” I screamed at him. What was he thinking? Where was his wife? She was probably drowning her sorrows in spiked hot chocolate somewhere because she had more sense than the rest of us.
Ashe, with the blanketed baby Jesus piece from the display manger, cradled the bundle like a football. He arched back his arm.
“And here comes Ethan Sawyer,” Arlene’s commentary cut in. “A tackle to the ground!”
But not before Ashe launched baby Jesus into the air.
We would never live this down. Never.
Out of nowhere, Tyler, Ashe’s oldest son, sprinted from the sidelines and caught the baby bundle.
“Interception!” Arlene called out. “Baby Jesus has been intercepted—it’s a miracle!” She cleared her throat. “Please return the display baby to its cradle.”
Crisis averted? I glanced around. Half the gawkers pointed their phones toward my family causing havoc. Nope, we would not live this down.
“I knew we should have secured the baby.”
I turned, horrified. Nick’s mom, Mrs. Bennington—make that Mayor Bennington—scowled, but I could have sworn her eyes danced with amusement.
Suddenly, a voice boomed louder than the crowd noise. “ENOUGH!”
A stoic matriarch parted the crowd and advanced like a queen whose succession had been questioned. “Absolutelyenoughof this hooliganry.” Grans’ words scorched like steel still smoldering from the forge. “All of you return to the house.Immediately.”
Chapter 20
Marlowe
Tension circulated in Murdoch on the ride to Hollybrooke House with Ethan. I’d made such a mess of things. Well, my brothers and cousin had made a literal mess.
I’d planned on apologizing to Ethan for involving him in such a circus. Then all things circus broke loose. Merely short a few monkeys or we could have sold tickets. “You guys deflated the town Menorah.” It was still shocking. “And don’t get me started on baby Jesus.”
Ethan winced. “Look, I’m sorry.” He stared out the window. “I don’t know what got into me. Something activated when Shawn got in my face.”
“He has that effect on people.” We drove past familiar town landmarks. The public library, the Presbyterian church facing the Catholic church across the street from it, the strip mall that used to house a dry cleaner and a dance studio, now a chain dollar store, same as the one by my apartment in San Jose. “I wanted to apologize myself. For all of it. This is all really, really weird.”
Ethan knocked his knuckles absently on the passenger side window. “Your family loves you. Your grandmother was desperate to see you all together again. We both got swept up in this—I got swept up in the idea we could win.”
“No. There is no sweeping involved. No brooms to speak of. This obnoxious Holly Games Caper is my family at peak weirdness. It’s anembarrassment. I’m sorry I involved you.”
I’d always been proud of my family. Obviously, some people thought we were strange, or the opposite of normal, whatever that meant. But this? The whole contest and the fighting in town square proved we were beyondextraand more like a dump truck oftoo much.
“They’re not embarrassing,” Ethan said quietly. “Today’s…situation aside. I’m glad I’ve been a part of it the past few weeks because it brought us together. Even if I’m frustrated by what’s happening.Incrediblyfrustrated.”
My chest grew tight. I’d roped Ethan into this competition, pretending to date him in front of my family, and for what? What would I do with a whole, huge Victorian house in a town I wasn’t sure I wanted to live in once the holidays ended?
And Ethan. Our time together hadn’t been solely about winning a house. Who was I kidding? That first night back at Checkers my long buried feelings already began clawing back to the surface. Getting my feelings tied up with this contest was the last thing I’d expected. Gettinghisfeelings tied up with mine, well that simply wasn’t fair to Ethan at all.
Once he didn’t need to spend time with me, why would he? I’d used him. If we lost the house, I’d lose him too.
Losing the house came at a cost to Ethan. He had a legitimate family business, which was in crisis, or would be if he couldn’t get what he needed. Here he was putting up with marshmallow crafts. Naturally, he’d lost it. I wouldn’t defend his physically fighting with my brothers, but I could see how his frustration hit its limit.
“I’ll be lucky to get a bank loan with that video footage floating around,” Ethan grumbled. “I’d hoped our family’s good reputation would help with the local bank, but now?” He laughed without humor.
Mild panic set in. “You don’t know they’ll reject you. We can save this. We still have a chance if we let Grans know how sorry we are—”
Ethan’s sigh cut my words short. “I don’t know, Marlowe.”
We needed to talk. Really talk. I couldn’t continue counting on distractions.
