Making Merry
Missy
“Christmas is in seven days,” I lament to Holly as we put together enough sugar cookie trays to feed a small island nation. “SEVEN DAYS!” I howl at the top of my lungs as everyone in the bustling bakery stops cold for less than a second. Every single employee in the shop is wearing the requisite Santa hat with cute little jingle bells attached to the pompom on the end. It’s adorable for about ten minutes, but after wearing the earsplitting chime for the better half of eight hours, you begin to hear it in your sleep. I may have attempted to snip them off, but Holly warned me my fingers would be next. She thinks they add that extra layer of holiday cheer. She might be right, but our sanity hangs in the bounds. Cheerful in December—incarcerated in January.
The bakery is beyond busy, with an output of at least thirty gingerbread houses a day.Thirty. You would think the closer we got to the big day, the demand for homes built from molasses would dwindle, but that’s not the case. The demand actually continues to rise on a steady basis right up until Christmas Eve. Jinglejingle!
“Oh, stop it, Missy,” Holly hisses as she wraps the oversized platters with cellophane. It’s the annual sugar cookie decorating contest at the Boys and Girls Club, and each year Holly and I graciously supply all the undecorated sugar cookies they can handle. Of course, we supply the icing, the non-perils, the sprinkles—which I still like to call jimmies once in a while, the spicy red dots, the chocolate chips, and every conceivable cookie accouterment known to man so that the kids will have the arsenal they need to turn the Boys and Girls Club into an annual mess. But a cheery mess no less.
Jenna comes in and starts lifting the trays right out of Holly’s arms. “I’ll get these delivered as soon as you girls button them up.”
“Thanks!” I call out, trying desperately not to pass out in a pile of golden brown snowmen.
“So?” Holly shrugs with that awkward look on her face she gets when she’s about to say something salacious. “How are things going with Graham? Anything exciting and X-rated I should know about?”
I can’t help but avert my eyes to the ceiling. Holly might be my best friend, but she is also my sister. I have no intent on sharing anything salacious with her ever.
“Holly!” I toss a broken reindeer her way. We have a long-standing tradition of hanging onto the cookies that didn’t quite make the cut and feasting on them ourselves—or using them as weaponry as evidenced by my wise decision to do so. “There’s absolutely nothing X-rated about the two of us.” I give a sly glance around in the event anyone is within earshot. News travels fast in Gingerbread, and I’ll be the last person to fuel the gossip train. “We kissed.” That’s about as much as I would ever share with Holly. Kisses are practically chaste in nature, but my cheeks heat ten degrees because there was nothing chaste about those kisses.
“What?” Holly squawks so loud Jenna bolts back in with a look of alarm.
“Never mind her.” I shake my head at my clearly over-excitable sister. “Jenna? Can you man the counter? I’ll finish loading the van. I think I just heard a customer come in.”
“Sure thing.” She takes off, and it’s just Holly and me once again—with me glaring at my sister.
“It was nothing.” I bite down over my bottom lip so hard I’m about to squirt blood.
“Nothing?” She laughs as she says it, her voice still hitting its upper register. Holly has always had the ability to see right through me—something I continually find annoying on every level. There are some things I’d like to keep to myself—case in point, Graham.
“Okay, it was everything, but don’t you dare say I told you so.” Itwaseverything. It felt like the weight of the world lifted off my shoulders to admit it. Kissing Graham was like finally being able to exhale after a lifetime of holding my breath.
“Why wouldn’t I say I told you so? Clearly I was right.” She wraps another tray before sliding the entire project to her left. “Now, tell me every dirty little detail.”
“There are no dirty details. The first time we kissed was at the tree lot. Sort of,” I mumble out that last part. Technically, I kissed him—on the cheek. But in all fairness, it led to that very reciprocated kiss we shared in my living room after putting up my tree. That kiss outshined the star we eventually set on the highest bough.
“Aw!” she moans as if Noel just scampered into the room. That’s pretty much the requisite reaction whenever anyone meets my pretty little pooch. She’s so stinking adorable, I keep a picture of her in the office so I won’t miss her that badly when I’m stuck at work. But oddly enough, I only seem to miss her more when I see it. “Did Nick hold up the mistletoe above your heads and take a picture? I’m betting he loved seeing his best friend hook up with his little sister.”
“Oh, stop.” Speaking of stopping, my heart gives an abnormal thud at the thought of my brother witnessing the event. “He doesn’t know, and we’re not going to tell him. We like our brother among the living, remember? Honestly, I think it’d kill him.” I know it would. Nick has always been ultra protective of Holly and me. I’m still not quite sure how Tom got away with marrying my sister. I thought for sure Nick was going to take him out long before the nuptials. Nick just wants the best for us, and according to Nick, the “best” doesn’t quite exist in nature.
She makes a face. “I’m thinking the only funeral to plan would be Graham’s. Nick will want to stay around long enough to commit a proper homicide. So, when are the two of you going to make your debut as a couple? Whenever it is, make sure I’m there.” A mischievous giggle bubbles from her.
“I seriously doubt we will.” I lean my elbows onto the counter and take in a lungful of flour and sugar. “It doesn’t seem possible for Graham and me to work. Nick and his homicidal intentions aside, Graham has carved out quite a spectacular life for himself in Manhattan. And I have this place.” I cast a quick glance around at the mint green walls, and it feels so homey I’d swear the bakery just gave me a nice, warm hug.
“I’ll take care of this place. You go to New York and shop on Fifth Avenue for me. That way I can come out every few weeks to inspect your purchases and see how you’re doing.” She gives a sly wink.
“Trust me, Graham and I are nowhere near shacking up together. And, believe me, that’s not something I would do. New York is a million miles away. I couldn’t just move there.”
“Not even for love? Fortruelove?”
Just as I’m about to pipe up once again, Mom breezes in, decked out in a black leather jacket and a pair of matching boots that hug those jeans of hers straight to her knees. My mother has always been a self-proclaimed fashionista, but the cool biker chick outfit she’s sporting this afternoon has me feeling a serious bout of jacket envy.
“Who’s in love?” Her arms flail every which way as if she were startled. “What’d I miss? When’d it happen?” She shoves a sugar cookie into her mouth and gives it a nervous nibble.
My mouth falls open once again to refute the claim. I might be in love with Graham Holiday, but there’s no way I’m alerting the presses—and telling my mother would amount to the very same thing. But before I can utter a single word, a redheaded, equally clad in leather, Sabrina Jarrett struts right in with a look of homicidal intent that could rival that of my brother’s should he get wind of that kiss that took place right under his proverbial nose.
“I’m the one in love.” Sabrina manufactures a short-lived smile for my mother before looking sternly my way. “May I have a word with you, Mistletoe Winters?Alone.”
Holly mobilizes as if we just received a tornado warning and scuttles Mom out to the café before I can protest. Alone is something I never want to be with Sabrina. It’s no wonder Graham isn’t interested. She’s terrifying to be around once she has you in a room without another living being in sight.
