“Yes. Ruby invited me. Madison did, too. Helena, Jaxi, and Beck also extended an invitation.”
“What did you say?”
“I told them, ‘Thanks very much,’ and that I would talk to you.”
“You didn’t say yes?”
“No, of course not. I am not going to intrude on the O’Donnell snowwoman contest unless you want me there, Bellini. That would be odd and badly mannered and…against the laws of the elves.”
“I want you there.”
My mom almost cackled. Then she put the wordpassionon the Scrabble board. How did she do that? Did she cheat?
“Bellini, if you want me there, I will be there.”
“Yes, I do. Remember that snowwoman we made with the red hat and red bra?”
“And the snowwoman who was supposed to be a scarecrow?”
“We did that fun robot snowwoman, too.”
“And the snowwoman elf… That was a hit.”
We discussed our snowwoman strategy, because this was serious business, then I said, “I have to go. My mom’s smearing me in Scrabble. I have to fight back with all my might so as not to embarrass myself.”
“Okay, sweetheart. See you later.”
That word.Sweetheart. It sent tingles up and down my spine. He’d whispered that word in my ear recently during a particularly thrilling moment in bed. “See you later, Logan.”
After I put the wordcatson the Scrabble board, which my four cats seemed to appreciate, as they were on top of and under the table, meowing, my mom spelled the wordSantas.
I am not kidding.
“How do you do this?” I said in an accusatory tone.
She shrugged. “Scrabble likes me better. Plus…” She pointed to the angel at the top of our Christmas tree. “I have angel luck.”
I sighed.
The snowwoman contest was held at my aunt Tessa’s house. She lives up a small mountain, so she had extra snow. Aunt Tessa’s place was mobbed, as usual. Seven sisters and their families and close friends congregated in front of a long and wide log cabin with a wraparound porch.
“All right, everyone,” Aunt Tessa yelled through—you guessed it—a bullhorn. “You’re in teams. Make the most creative snowwoman you can. You have one hour. We have five family members who are the judges. Their votes are private. There will be no bribing of judges. I’m lookin’ at you, Kat. We all know what you did last year.”
Kat pretended to frown, then she said, “There were no legal documents that we had to sign here stipulating that we wouldn’t bribe the judges.” She is an attorney, so this comment was not exactly unexpected.
“There will be no promises of special pies or cakes either,” Aunt Tessa said. “I’m lookin’ at you, Dell. Yes, you. Don’t put on that innocent expression. You know what you did last year.”
Uncle Dell insisted he had been “falsely accused” and “perhaps framed,” but we knew better. He is a chef, and everyone in the family loves his cakes and pies.
“And especially no bribing of the children! That would be you, Uncle Tad.” Aunt Tessa pointed at my great-uncle Tad, white-haired and smiling sweetly. “You can’t bribe the judges even if they’re your children or grandchildren.”
People called out Uncle Tad’s name, and he rocked back on his heels and croaked out, “A small error in judgment. A small one.”
“Finally, the judges’ decisions are final. No arguing!” Aunt Tessa said. “Good luck to everyone. One more thing—a special welcome to Logan!”
Everyone cheered. I did, too. He looked especially delicious in his black ski jacket and black hat and black gloves. He waved. My family members hooted his name.
“All righty, O’Donnells, let’s have a pleasant and peaceful competition with no corruption of the judges. Ready, set, go!” Aunt Tessa yelled.
