Page 49 of Grumpy Glitter Christmas
Meena turned to Grant. “You and Felicity decorated this tree. You know every wire, every connection.”
Grant’s stomach dropped. “Meena?—”
“There has to be a way.” Felicity was near tears. “Without the lights, the entire event is ruined.”
Something in Grant’s heart broke at the sound of disappointment in her voice. And suddenly he knew… he would do anything to make things right for her.
“We can do it,” Grant said, looking at Felicity. “We decorated this tree. We know how every strand is positioned. We can do this.”
Felicity stared at him, and he could see her doing the math. Eleven hours until guests arrived. Maybe six or seven hours to remove, test, and restring forty-seven light strands while keeping the ornaments intact. That would leave barely any time for everything else that still needed to be done.
“Felicity,” Meena said quietly. “Can you two do this?”
The question had layers. Could they fix the tree? Could they work together? Could they put aside everything that had happened this week and function as a team?
Felicity looked at the tree, then at Grant, then back at Meena. “We don’t have a choice.”
“What can I do to help?” Meena asked.
“Take care of the other setup issues,” Grant said. “This is a two-person job; any more than that might muddy the waters, but if you let us concentrate on just this, we can get it done.”
Meena nodded. “Okay then, let’s get to work.”
Meena headed toward the lobby, and Leo left to do deliveries., leaving them alone with a dark tree and nine hours until showtime.
Finally, Felicity spoke. “Fine. Let’s start with the bottom strand.”
“Felicity—”
“Not now. We need to get this done. Focus on the tree.”
They fell into a tense rhythm, working methodically through the tree’s wiring system. Felicity had detailed diagrams showing every strand, every connection. They moved around the tree carefully, speaking only when necessary.
“Second strand is good.”
“Check the third section.”
“Need the wire tester.”
“Here.”
An hour passed. They checked every obvious connection, every bulb. Everything tested fine.
“It has to be a loose connection in the main trunk line,” Grant said, climbing down from the ladder. “But with this many strands...”
“We’ll have to check each one individually.” Felicity’s hand trembled slightly as she consulted her diagram. “Forty-seven strand connections.”
“Then we’d better start.”
They worked in silence. Strand one: fine. Strand two: fine. By strand fifteen, Grant’s back ached. At strand twenty-five, Felicity was moving slower.
“Trade positions,” he said quietly. “Give your arms a rest.”
She wordlessly handed him the tester and moved to the junction box.
The new angle gave him a closer look at her face. The exhaustion was bone-deep—not just tired, but the weariness ofsomeone running on fumes. She looked fragile and fierce all at once.
Strand twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty.
