Page 54 of The Holiday Grump
Sometime later, I woke up shivering. My arm had snuck out from under the covers and felt like a refrigerated carrot. I wrapped myself in blankets, waiting for the warmth to return. The room felt like a chest freezer, and the tip of my nose was so cold I had to burrow entirely under the covers. Still, the chill pushed its way through, like an invisible snowman was hugging me.
Bracing myself, I got out of bed and pulled on my winter jacket, woolly hat, and mittens. I’d have to sleep in the Christmas store. It was the only way to survive. But when I went downstairs, I saw that the street outside the window was dark.
Was my fuse box connected to everything around me? It made no sense, but my tired brain was busy connecting dots like a conspiracy theorist. Either way, I had nowhere to go. If the power was out, the Christmas store would be equally cold. Fear gripped my chest as I returned to my bed and crawled under the covers in my winter clothes.
It was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER 18
Fredrik
I’d just finished a bleak dystopian novel and coaxed my fire back to life when the landline rang so loudly that I nearly jumped out of my skin. The ancient thing only ever rang for emergencies or drunks who’d misdialed. Given it was past midnight on Saturday, it could be either.
“What?” I barked into the receiver.
“You need to get to the store.”
“Who is this?”
“You know who it is.” Felicity’s voice was sharp enough to cut steel. “The whole block’s out of power on Hideaway Ave.”
“Someone strung up too many Christmas lights and blew the grid?” I guessed.
It wouldn’t be thefirst time.
“Duh. That’s not why I’m calling.” She gave me a second to catch up, like a schoolteacher waiting for the slow kid in class.
“Oh shit. Noelle. She’s there, right?”
“Why wouldn’t she be? You didn’t tell her to leave, did you?”
“No.” After the way I’d acted that morning, I wouldn’t have blamed her for bolting. But she probably had nowhere else to go.
“I know she’s there. It’s an old building. You know what that means?—”
“Yeah. I’m on my way.”
She didn’t have to explain to me how cold it was outside and how quickly the inside temperature would drop without the radiators. The building was a hundred years old and leaked so much heat that pigeons had tropical vacations under the eaves.
Adrenaline surged through my veins. I pulled on boots, grabbed my coat, and within minutes, I was on the road. When I arrived in town, I saw my sister was right. Hideaway Ave loomed in eerie darkness, like one side of the town square had disappeared.
I parked, fished a flashlight out of the glove box, and hurried to the store. As I opened the door, I winced at the cool air. It was only marginally warmer than the outside.
I bounded upstairs and knocked. “Noelle?”
“Fredrik?” Her voice was muffled, shaky.
I opened the door and swept the flashlight over the bed. Nothing but a mound of blankets, shifting a little.
“I’m here,” a voice said from underneath. “Trying to stay warm. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
Her woolly hat appeared, followed by her face. She shielded her eyes from the flashlight. “I blew a fuse, I think. I dragged all the lights into this room, and they’re old-fashioned bulbs, not LEDs, and then I plugged in the vacuum cleaner and—bam. I’ve never been good at amp math.”
“Amp math?” I stared at her. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She sat up, wrapping the blankets around her like a cape. “I don’t even know how your fuse box works. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
