I hop out of the car and get Chili out of the back seat, and then the two of us dash up the street to tackle Lorelei in a hug. She’s outside the Gingerbread House with samples.
“You’re here!” she squeals.
“I missed you!” I squeal back.
Chili woofs.
It’s a halfhearted woof, but he does it like he’s saying hi too.
“Amanda!” Mom says in the doorway. “Welcome home, sweetie.”
I shift from Lorelei so I can hug Mom as Dane reaches us.
It’s a hug-a-palooza on Kringle Lane, and I’m here for it.
Once we’ve all hugged our fill—including Dane hugging Mom—we slip into the shop to get out of the cold.
The changes are small, but they’re there.
Instead of Dolly Parton, Mariah Carey is singing to us.
The nutcrackers by the bakery counter are wearing ugly Christmas sweaters instead of elf outfits.
There’s a new note on the menu.
Ask us about gingerbread-baking classes!
But the biggest change—Grandma is sitting at one of the tables with Dane and Lorelei’s grandmother.
I freeze in my tracks. Dane makes a startled noise.
They’re playing dominoes.
Our grandmothers are eating gingerbread and playing dominoes.
“Oh, close your mouths,” Grandma Vicki says. “Doctor’s orders. He says we’ll live longer if we make up.”
“I think he’s full of crap,” Dane’s grandma says.
“We fully agree, which is why we’re here,” Grandma Vicki says. “We’re proving him wrong. Oh, Opal, look, you have crumbs on your sweater.”
“I’m saving them for later.”
“You’re saving them to torture Warren when he does your laundry and sees gingerbread.”
Dane’s grandma giggles.
Giggles.
“Surprise,” Lorelei whispers.
“I’m still highly uncomfortable every time they come in and do this,” Mom murmurs. “I’m waiting for the gingerbread to start flying. But I’m going with it.”
I hug my grandma. Dane hugs his.
They both tell us to shoo before we break their concentration. They’ll see us later.
Santa ClausHo ho hos, and a blast of cool air sweeps through the shop as Mrs. Briggs enters. “Oh, look! Our parade king and queen have arrived!”
