Page 35 of Grinchland
“No, I’m not saying that. I just…” He glanced back at me as if he were looking for backup.
I just shrugged. “It’s what the ladies want.” I could tell that Taz wanted to keep talking about this, but I just shook my head. This was a battle that he was not going to win.
“There’s a no return policy if it…well, it’s already dying, so there’s a no return policy.”
Clara shook her head. “That’s fine. I don’t have any intention of returning it,” she said as she started rifling around in her purse and finally emerged with her wallet.
I couldn’t help but stare at her, confusion coating my mind. I thought I’d had her pegged. She was just an overly zealous consumer who thought the meaning of this time of year was the amount of presents under her tree and the number of Christmas lights adorning her house. I thought she was Martha May Whovier.
But buying a dead tree that would stand out like a sore thumb against her other decorations was the opposite of who I thought Clara was. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about this revelation.
Clara must have felt my stare because suddenly she looked up and locked her gaze with mine. She studied me for a moment before she drew her eyebrows together. “What?” she asked as she brought her hand to her cheek. “Do I have something on my face?”
I shook my head. “No.”
She dropped her hand. “Then why are you staring at me like that?”
“You’re confusing me,” I confessed. As soon as the words were out, I wished I could take them back.
“I’m confusing you?” she repeated back to me.
I nodded. “I don’t like it.”
Clara didn’t look apologetic or like she had any intention of giving up her annoying Christmas-ban-breaking ways. Instead she just frowned. “I’m sorry,” she said in a tone that told me she really wasn’t apologizing.
I bumped Isabelle a few times and she squealed. “Good, you should be,” I said flicking my gaze to Clara, who was staring at me with sheer confusion.
“If you want to pull your car around, we can get you loaded up,” Taz said as he handed Clara back her card.
Our conversation drifted to the back of my mind as we focused on trying to get the tree tied to Clara’s car. For a moment, I wanted to ask her why she didn’t just let me drive, but then decided against it. With the tree now strapped to the roof, we climbed back inside and Clara drove off.
“Back home?” I asked.
Clara laughed as she took a left. “No. The day has only just begun.”
SIXTEEN
CLARA
I celebrated a bit inside when Silas went along with my plot to pick out a Christmas tree. I honestly thought that he was going to put up a bigger fight. Granted, I’d come prepared with logical reasons as to why cutting down a tree didn’t have to solely be a Christmas tradition. I could tell that he thought it was a stretch, but he didn’t demand we leave, so I went ahead with it.
I was just as prepared for our second stop. After a quick Google search, I discovered that one of the best places to get hot chocolate in Maine was only twenty miles out from Grinchland. Cornerstone Cafe was in a small town called Lewisville. The reviews for this place were off the charts.
Silas looked confused as I pulled into the parking lot. When he opened the front door to the diner and saw the big sign that said, Santa’s Stamp of Approval: Best Hot Chocolate Ever, he glanced over at me deadpan.
“Hey, all chocolate is liquid at some point. Are you saying that it’s all Christmas related?” I was speaking the truth. “Besides, it’s chocolate and it’s hot. That’s all.”
He looked annoyed but didn’t demand that we head back to my car and drive back to Grinchland. Instead, he ordered a water while Isabelle and I ordered something called Rudolph’s Red Nose, which was a peppermint hot chocolate with a giant dollop of whip cream, Santa sprinkles, and a cherry on top. I ordered it sans the sprinkles because that would make it Christmas.
Isabelle and I giggled as we tried to outdo the other on how big of a whip cream mustache we could make. We made it to the tip of our noses and then spent the next few minutes with our eyes crossed, looking at them.
My gaze drifted over to Silas, who was sitting there with his glass of water and ice, watching us. His expression was unreadable, but he seemed content. When I offered him my cup of cocoa so he could join us, he wrinkled his nose and stated that he preferred his chocolate solid as opposed to a liquid.
I clapped my hands before I pointed to him and declared that he was getting it.
He was not amused.
Our next stop was in Kirkland, about twenty minutes to the east of Grinchland. I’d read online that there was an ice sculpture display that rivaled the Harbin International Ice and Snow Sculpture Festival in China. I’d been wanting to go since I got to Grinchland but hadn’t found the time. Today seemed like the perfect time.
