Page 15 of In Stockings

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“Nope, perfectly on time,” Samson says, my coat still hooked over his arm. “The gingerbread is nearly done.”

“It’s just us?” I ask.

“Yep,” Lyra says. “We always have a party when we decorate the tree. It’s a tra … a tra …”

“Tradition,” Craig says.

Lyra points to the tree. “Where are you going to hang that one?”

“Hmmm,” I say, “how about here?” I let the bauble hang at the end of a branch.

“Perfect!”

“Have you seen the decoration TwinkleToes brought us?” Samson says, and I scowl at him for calling me that name.

“What is it?”

I dangle it in front of her face, and her emerald eyes widen with delight. She stares at it with awe.

“It’s so pretty,” she gushes.

“I thought you might like it. Where are you going to hang it?”

She takes it from my hand like it’s a precious heirloom and walks around the tree, hunting for a spot.

Archie steps in closer. “Can I get you a drink, Astrid? What do elves like? Eggnog?”

“Yuck,” I grimace.

“Mulled wine?”

“Ahh, yes, please.”

“I’ll go pour you one.”

“And I’ll check on the gingerbread,” Craig says.

I pick up a few more baubles from the box on the floor and help Lyra to hang them.

“It’s fun having another girl here,” she tells me. “My daddies are good at lots of stuff, but …” she screws up her face.

“I’m not sure I’m any better,” I confess.

“But you look really pretty. I love your plait.”

“But see, my friend did that for me. And my make-up.” I flutter my eyelashes at her.

“You’re very pretty,” she says, tipping her head to one side. “I think that’s why my daddies love you.”

I choke on the air in my throat. “What? No … we only just met … they don’t love me, sweetie.”

“They do. I can tell because they can’t stop looking at you. And they’ve been talking about you coming all day.”

“Really?”Is this kid playing me again, or is this true?“What exactly have they been saying?”

But Samson reenters, followed by Craig with a tray full of gingerbread men and Archie with a glass of steaming wine, and she doesn’t answer.

Damn it.

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