“Me, too. Don’t you want to help me cut the tree? Surely you don’t expect me to figure out how to do that on my own.”
Releasing a long sigh, he rubbed his palms down his face.
“The events will be good practice for the programs you’ll run after I leave,” I said, my excitement gone, the words tasting bitter.
“Right. After you leave.”
Before we could get back to planning, someone else knocked on the door. It swung open before we could call out, and Rosey and Gracie strode inside.
“Carla,” Rosey said. “So good to see you up and about. How’s the ankle?”
“It’s doing much better, thanks.”
“When we heard you were stranded…” Her narrowed gaze shot to Becken. “He was kind, wasn’t he? Not all grumpy and growly and grinchy?”
“Grinchy?” Becken asked, bracing his palms on the edge of his desk. “What does that mean?”
“It’s from a movie,” I said. “And he…was fine.” Better than fine, but I couldn’t exactly say he was grinchy if he made me come, now could I? My face heated at the memory.
“Our mates call them streaming images,” Gracie said with a wink my way.
“That’s cute.”
“It’s not cute,” Becken roared.
Rosey shielded her mouth from his view. “See? Grinchy. Maybe instead of Santa, he should play the Grinch.”
Becken leaped to his feet. “Who is this Grinch?”
“He’s green,” Gracie said smoothly. “Grumpy. You’re actually a perfect fit. Right, Carla?”
I shrugged, trying not to burst into laughter.
Becken dropped back into his chair and sighed. “Why are you two here?”
“We ran into Aunt Inla,” Rosey said. “And she told us about the sorhoxes marching in the parade as reindeer.” She glanced Becken’s way. “Maybe some of the youngling sorhoxes would be better with this task. They’re smaller. Cuter.”
“Adult sorhoxes are cute,” Becken said.
The two women lifted their eyebrows his way.
“Can we come up with eight?” Gracie asked.
“Nine with Rudolph,” Rosey pointed out.
“You’re right.” Gracie frowned. “Nine’s an awful lot. I think we could get away with two adults if that’s easier. What do you think, Becken?”
“What do you want them to do?” he said with a grumble. “Why should I play Santa? I thought I was better fitted as this grinchy being.”
Rosey rolled her eyes. “Personality wise, yes, but kids will have more fun with Santa. Tag, you’re it.”
“I’m what exactly?” he huffed.
She smiled. “I love that Becken watched out for you in the snowstorm. Was it fun being holed up together in the cabin?”
“They’re not heated,” Gracie pointed out. “You must’ve been cold.”
“Becken made sure I was warm,” I said in his defense. “Fed well too. He even carried me to the bathroom because my ankle was swollen.”
