Page 41 of A Cozy Holiday
Finally, the girls thunder down the stairs. Honey hoists Jubilee up like Simba inThe Lion King, her oversized striped sweater hanging off one shoulder.
“Presenting Princess JubJub!” Kiki yells before Jubilee immediately goes limp in Honey’s arms. “Oh no!”
The girls’ eyes go wide in horror.
“She’s fine.” I lean forward in my chair, trying not to laugh. “She just got scared. Wrap her in a blanket, and she’ll come around.”
“We’re so sorry we hurt your bunny.” They stare at me like I’m some strange creature that wandered in from the woods.
“Princess Jubjub is tough,” I assure them. “Trust me.”
They bundle her into a blanket and settle her on the couch with all the tenderness of ER nurses. They press quick kisses to her furry forehead, then clasp hands and launch into a chant.
“They aren’t hexing my rabbit, right?”
Jamie, at the stove, hides a smile. “They made up a get-well song this morning for the sick reindeer.”
My heart squeezes.
After their séance, the girls drag chairs over and plant themselves on either side of me. I chug the smoothie while they shove Pinterest boards in my face. I look to Jamie for help, but he busies himself with stirring his pasta sauce.
The twins are easy to tell apart. They both have green eyes like their dad’s, though Honey’s have a speck of gold on the edges. Kiki is a tomboy in her basketball shorts and baggy Nirvana T-shirt. Her hair is in two messy braids. Honey, on the other hand, is in a matching sweater set, her hair neatly combed.
They both aredeadly seriousabout fashion.
Kiki requests a smoky-eye look with dark-cherry lipstick, and Honey asks for sparkles. Just sparkles. Ten minutes later, I’m swiping pink glitter against her eyes.
“I’ll be right back,” Jamie says, opening up a door next to the fridge. “Gonna go check on my Mama Jama loaf.”
“Wait…your oven is in the garage?”
“Built a wood-burning one. Bread tastes better that way.”
“Saving reindeer by day and baking bread by night?” I joke.
“Actually, I throw it in the oven in the morning.”
“Excuse my mistake, Jamie Crocker.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “My little chickadees, be nice.”
“We’ll be good, Dad,” Honey replies sweetly, but the moment he’s out of earshot, both girls turn their full attention to me. “I like your butterfly tattoo.” Honey points her pink nails at my wrist.
I smirk. “Thanks.”
“So…” Kiki starts, legs swinging from the chair next to her sister. Her eye makeup is already done. She came out looking more raccoon-y than I would have liked, but she insisted it was what is in style. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
I nearly choke on my own spit. “Oh, um, no. Do you?”
“We’re ten,” Honey says flatly.
I laugh, more out of nerves than anything. “I had my first boyfriend in kindergarten. But he stole my strawberry Pop-Tart, so I dumped him.”
“How did you get a boyfriend?” Honey asks, her voice quieter now, like she’s trying to ask something without really asking.
Oh shit. I don’t actually know how to answer this.
Kiki smirks and playfully nudges her sister. “I knew you liked Wyatt.”
