Page 45 of Never Sleigh Never
With my elbow resting on the kitchen counter, I take a sip of my second cup of coffee for the morning and drum my fingers on the newspaper like a metronome with anxiety. Every time I closed my eyes, an army of fir trees chased after me. A spruce brigade seeking revenge. While balsams wave garland like nunchucks. Maybe buying four trees was a bit excessive. Then again, Brie had hoarded every reindeer in a tri-county radius. If she could corner the market on antlers, I could corner the market on needles. What if I donate a tree to her festival? That way, it won’t seem like I’m just giving it to her. Tree courtesy of Logan Crawford’s carnival. She’d love that—if love meant I want to strangle you with my bare hands. Then again, she’s dating my friend, or at least I think so. Their hug lasted three Mississippis too long to be considered friendly.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Josie barrels into the kitchen like a stampede.
“Whoa! Slow down, Peanut. Get yourself a bowl of cereal and take a seat.” I pat the empty stool next to me.
She darts around the kitchen and collects everything to pour herself a mountain of Rice Krispies. An avalanche of puffed rice cereal spill over the sides as she drops a spoon into the bowl. She races around to the other side and climbs onto the stool. Even more Rice Krispies spill over the sides as she pulls her spoon out for a big bite. “Can I join the—” she says around a mouth full of food.
“Finish chewing. Then talk.”
Her jaw moves a mile a minute until she swallows. “Can I join the snowman building contest?”
“What contest? Is this for school or something?”
“No, it’s at the Holly Jolly Festival. Brie told me about it. She thinks my snowman could win.” Her hazel eyes sparkle.
My brows pinch together. “When did you see Brie?”
“At Grandma and Grandpa’s. I was building a snowman in their front yard, and she saw me. Her parents live next door. She told me about the contest. Can I join?” She intertwines her fingers. “Please? Please?”
I set my coffee mug down and rake my fingers through my hair. How will it look? Rival carnival owner hanging out at the festival? When did the Holly Jolly Festival start holding contests? It has to be new. They never did that while I was growing up.
“Please, Dad.”
Saying no to Josie is like refusing a puppy a treat—it hurts your soul. Plus, it’s only a snowman contest. At the festival Brie’s hosting. At least she’s not asking for a brand-new iPhone. “Sure, Peanut.”
“Thank you!” she shrieks. Bending over, she wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes.
I’d do anything for her, even if it includes crossing enemy lines.
After dropping Josie off at school, I head to the carnival grounds. Surprisingly, we’re ahead of schedule, and a soft opening the weekend before Christmas looks promising.
My boots kick up the newly fallen snow as I meander down the path toward Santa’s hut. Brooke always wanted me to play Santa at her carnival. I already have the suit since she bought it for me for putting presents under the tree for Josie. Brooke wanted authenticity in case Josie snuck out of her room. The best thing about being dad and playing Santa: I convinced her Santa likes English toffee cookies, not chocolate chip.
My gaze glosses over the reindeer, and I freeze. One of these things is not like the others. Why doesn’t Rudolph have a head? I frown and scan the ground. It wasn’t windy last night, so if it broke, it wouldn’t have blown too far. No head in sight, but faint prints emerge from the newly fallen powder. I step into the snow, pull away, and compare the two prints. If I had to guess, it’s about a size seven. Beside the boot prints, something catches the light. I crouch and pluck out a silver keychain. Mostly Nice. Sometimes Naughty. The corners of my lips twitch into a smile. It’s the same key chain from the night Brie drove me home from the bar. My thumb brushes over the sharp metal of a bent end. It must have fallen off. Most people would be mad having someone trespassing on their property, but not me. It only means revenge. I casually do a couple of laps around the festival grounds, planning my attack and confirming no one is around.
This isn’t the same Brie from high school. She’s braver, fiercer, and fuck, I like it. Our back-and-forth Christmas pranks may be childish, but it’s keeping my head occupied with things that aren’t Brooke.
I roll my truck to a stop near the front entrance of the Holly Jolly Festival. A snowman for a reindeer head seems appropriate, and I spot the perfect victim. Leaving the truck running, I jump out and stand in front of a plastic snowman holding a Welcome to the Holly Jolly Festival sign. “You’re coming with me Frosty.” I bear-hug the snowman around the torso and lift. The black top hat slides off the head and lands in the snow. I bend over, pick it up, and place the snowman in the cab of my truck. Once in place, I jump back inside and set the top hat on my passenger seat. I peel away, the tires kicking up snow on my exit.
My phone rings through my truck speakers with an incoming phone call. Mason flashes at the top of the dashboard screen.
“Hey, man,” I answer. “What’s up?”
“Are you close to the fire station?”
“Yeah. I’m only a few blocks away.”
“Can you pick me up and give me a ride to Willa’s?”
“Sure. I’ll be there in a few.”
At the fire station, Mason pulls open the door and lifts the hat before climbing in. He holds it out to me, brows pinched together. “Why do you have a top hat in your truck?”
“It belongs to the snowman.” I take the hat from him and toss it behind me.
He glances over his shoulder. “Next question. Why is Frosty hanging out in your back seat?”
Frosty’s black, beady eyes stare back at me in the rearview mirror. “Collateral.”
