Three days passat a snail’s pace. Never in the entirety of my life have I anticipated something so much. Not to mention the amount of time it took me to string up the lights on the library.
Ms. Aberdeen directed me to a basement that I swear is Steven King’s writing cave, and I am not ashamed to say I called Davis to go down there and make sure there weren’t any murderers lingering in the shadows just waiting to kill me off.
Logically, I know no one hid down there lying in wait, but it’s now one of the top ten places I never ever want to visit again.
Which is unfortunate, because I work here now, and I’ll have to go down there. I understand that, but I swear it’s haunted, which only feeds my love of all things creepy.
And the box of dolls…
I shudder at the thought of seeing those things again.
By the time Wednesday rolled around, not only was the B&B decorated, but so was the library. Arlo assisted me inside and out, and now the kids’ side is an official winter wonderland—see what I did there? We had to take a day trip for more lights to the nearest city, because the last time Ms. Aberdeen did anything with the lights that I risked my life to obtain—really, the basement is that scary—was the seventies.
New lights and new candy canes hang from the trees surrounding the library and even the fruit trees, which make me think of Bloom every time I see them. She flounced from tree to tree, and Arlo and I took pity on her and helped her out yesterday.
Now we all wander around town in anticipation, with the fresh scent of snow swelling in the air. Most of the town braves the cold with their carts sitting outside their stores while the air hums with magic. No one really watches said carts, since everything runs on the honor system, which just blows my mind.
Where I grew up, most of that would have been stolen.
“Here you go.” Arlo catches up to me, handing a hot chocolate to Lark and a coffee to me.
“What do you have there?” I point to the brown paper bags I know came from Lori’s Bakery.
“It’s going to cost you.” He holds the bag just out of reach as we pause on the sidewalk, and he leans into me with that devious smile of his.
“What’s the price?” I whisper.
“Ew,” Lark complains. “You two are disgusting.” Yet there isn’t an ounce of heat in her voice. More like amusement.
I kiss Arlo anyway, tasting his own hot chocolate on his lips.
“Pastries.” He wiggles his eyebrows before giving a bag to Lark and pressing the other into my hand.
“You do know the way to my heart.” I pretend to swoon, making him catch me, which is all a part of my devious plan.
“You’re an easy read, Birdie.” His soft lips press against my forehead before he pulls out a pastry for himself.
Digging in the bag, I find a cream cheese Danish and I nearly do swoon. Glancing over at Lark, I see cherry smeared across her face while her dimples dent as she smiles up at me.
“What’s the plan?” I hop from foot to foot, almost unable to contain my excitement.
“Well, sundown is a couple hours away, and I figured we’d grab something more substantial than a pastry.” His head dips just a little as he gives me that look I know I deserve, because I do live on pastries.
Or I used to until his mom got a hold of me and started feeding me real meals before giving me dessert. The strangest thing happened during that though, I was almost too full to consume all the baked goods.
I still manage eventually though. Not much can get between me and sugar.
“I’m hungry for pizza,” Lark says, making Arlo hang his head.
“That’s still dough.” He side-eyes her, but I already see him softening toward my girl. Honestly, he’d do anything for her, and that warms the icy ventricles of my heart, especially when all she had to rely on for so long was me.
“With tomatoes,” she counters.
“And cheese,” I add. Arlo wrinkles his nose, but this is a battle he won’t win, so I steer him toward the pizzeria while they banter.
“Cheese is a food group,” Lark argues.
“Yes, but?—”
