“I’m entering mine,” she says. “But you already know that.”
A loud laugh rolls out of Chip, and everyone’s head swivels toward him like a group of cartoon characters watching a debate, and I begin to question my sanity. It’s absurd to be fighting over something as trivial as peppermint bark, but then again, who I am to judge them. Maybe that’s the worst thing that can happen here, and something about that is reassuring.
“There are no rules against two businesses having the same entry,” he argues. “I’ve entered my peppermint bark every year for the last ten years, and I intend to do the same this year.”
Every head swivels back toward the woman, but this time it’s Stella who interjects.
“Now, now. Lolly, he’s right. So, there is no need for any arguing, only festive cheer.” She taps her pen against the clipboard on the last two words. “You can both enter your peppermint bark, and Claire and Everett will be happy to judge it fairly.”
“Well then, I look forward to beating you in the name of festive cheer,” Lolly says, taking her seat as Chip does the same with a bit of a huff. Stella writes something on the paper and then scans the page again. Looking up, she narrows her eyes.
“Okay, Joe and Cami. Do I have this right? Citrine Brews will have a coffee and a tea entry this year?”
A man with graying hair stands. He’s wearing a brown apron over a flannel shirt. His smile takes up his whole face, exposing the wrinkles around his eyes and the dimples in both of his warm ivory cheeks.
“That’s right. We thought a little competition could spice up themarriage.” He chuckles and nudges the woman sitting next to him, drawing a few laughs from the crowd. She has a mix of blonde and gray chin-length hair and is wearing a matching brown apron over a loose cream colored sweater. She stands to join him.
“I’ll be making an eggnog latte,” he says.
“And I’ll be beating all of you with my Christmas chai latte,” Cami quips.
“Fabulous,” Stella says, scribbling across the paper. “Okay, well Lolly, we already know what The Gum Drop Sugar Shop will be making. So that brings us to Reid from The Music Box.” She surveys the crowd. “Reid, are you here?”
A man stands, clearing his throat.
He’s young, around our age. He can’t be taller than six feet, maybe a few inches shorter. He’s got light skin, dark hair, beady eyes, a long nose, and a clean shaven face.
“I’m here,” he falters. “I’ll be making marzipan fruits.”
“Sounds delicious,” Stella beams, writing again. “Wow, you two are really going to have a tough competition.” She glances over her shoulder.
“Alright, next up is Ginger.”
A woman with red curls and fair skin stands. She is around five feet and her full figure is covered by a bulky coat. She is sharing a booth with six kids, all of whom have matching curls, and a man who I presume is her husband. “Sugar—” she begins while trying to hold two of her boys apart. “Boys, please,” she orders and the boys freeze, straightening up in the booth. The older one sticks his tongue out at the other, and Ginger snaps her fingers in their direction. “Sorry about that. I’ll be making sugar cookies.”
Gasps and whispers circulate around the restaurant.
“None of your famous gingerbread cookies this year?” Stella asks, stunned.
“I wanted to switch it up,” the woman explains. “Plus, I thought it would be fun for the kids to help.”
“If you insist, but they’ll be missed.” Her finger trails down the piece of paper. “And that brings us to Aster,” Stella says.
The other woman who waved stands. She’s a few years younger and at least half a foot shorter than Claire. Her black hair is wavy and cut to frame her round face. Deep purple highlights shine through, and a dimple appears on the right side of her face when she smiles. Her plum puffer jacket hits just aboveher ankles, and a chunky hand-knitted sage scarf covered with flowers hangs around her neck.
“I’m gonna make a mistletoe kiss cocktail with some of the rosemary from my garden.”
“Delightful,” Stella beams, jotting something down on the paper. “So, I guess that brings us to the last thing on the agenda. Lolly and Chip have graciously volunteered to co-chair the decoration committee.”
There is a groan from somewhere in the crowd, and someone else snorts. Lolly’s arms are folded across her chest, and her lips are pursed. Chip mimics her body language and is shaking his head.
“I’m sure they’ll need help the day of the Extravaganza, so please see either of them to volunteer. Let’s not forget the Sugarplum Park way. We help one another, we’re there for one another, and above all else, we love one another.”
Her face brightens as she looks over the crowd.
“As you all know, this festival is an important part of our town’s history and has been for over a hundred years, so I truly appreciate all of your enthusiasm when it comes to making it the best year yet. Merry Christmas!”
Everyone stands and begins layering on coats, hats, and scarfs. Stella turns to us and unclips the piece of paper from the clipboard she’s been holding.
