“What a train wreck,” Morticia said, shaking her head.
“You're telling me. I had to live with her for years. Thanks, Mom, for giving me a crazy stepsister for Christmas.”
“And thanks, Dana and Gunnar, for subjecting all of us to her,” Morticia added.
“How are we supposed to decorate by committee?” I asked Morticia as we walked around.
“It's just for show. Penny wants me to clean up whatever you guys buy,” Morticia said. “Because apparently that’s what I do—clean up whenever the Polar Express jumps the tracks.”
“The ceilings are so high in here,” I said, looking up. “Let's hang lights and garlands from the ceiling, so it looks like a winter fairy forest. Also, we need a giant Christmas tree, plus a few smaller ones. And as much as I despise Amber, I do sort of like the idea of a romantic Christmas theme. The lobby has little niches, so we should make them semiprivate spaces. Obviously we don't want people boinking in the lobby, but they could be nice little moments.”
“Color palette should be silver, white, gold, and green. We don't want a lot of red. If it happens, it needs to be desaturated and matte, not a shiny, glittery red,” Morticia added, sketching on her small drawing pad.
I nodded, looking over her shoulder. “I'm feeling like I want a very retro, very mod Christmas. Also, I have a miniskirt and fake eyelashes I want to bust out,” I said, snapping pictures.
“Quantum Cyber could have their holiday party down here,” Morticia said as she sketched out a scene. “Penny wants one of the bake-off challenges to be the holiday party. If we decorate this place nicely enough and don’t have giant pictures of Owen everywhere—” She glared back at Amber, who was still going strong. “It should look nice.”
“Let's go shopping.”
*
The snow flurriesfrom the night before had stopped.
“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas!” I sang. I handed Rudolph to Morticia, who took him as if I had handed her a live bomb, so I could take selfies in the streetscape. Wreaths and huge red bows hung from the streetlights. The street's trees were draped in fairy lights and glowed softly against the grey winter sky.
“You need to buy this dog a leash and a harness,” Morticia said flatly. “I'm covered in fur.”
“I'll order something on Amazon.”
“There's a dog boutique nearby,” she said, shoving the puppy back into my arms. “We're going there now.”
The Scottie Dog Groomers and Pet Boutique wasn't far. The shop was bright and airy, with a section of organic dog treats, along with harnesses and—
“Costumes! He needs a sweater.”
“Does he?” Morticia wrinkled her nose. “These are all so… festive. Here,” she said, shoving a black collar and harness at me. “These are his size.”
“They're black! It's Christmas. He needs a holiday leash,” I said, browsing through the options and selecting a red-and-green leash with snowflakes embroidered on it. There was a matching collar and harness. I tried them on Rudolph.
“Very festive!” I told him.
“Is that it?” Morticia said, clearly annoyed. “We need to shop for the lobby.”
“I want to find him a sweater.”
“He's a husky.”
“Hi. I’m Ginny, the shop owner. Can I help you?” She was a pretty young woman, but her pleasant expression soured slightly when she saw Rudolph. The puppy wagged his tail.
“Ugh,” Ginny said. “I really should ban him from the store, except he's so cute.”
“He's just a puppy!” I cried. “What could he possibly have done?”
“His father knocked up one of my clients’ show dogs,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “There were lawsuits out the wazoo. You are in possession of probably the most expensive puppy in Manhattan if you go based on the insurance payout.”
“Geez,” I said, looking down at Rudolph. “He's definitely a billionaire's dog then.”
*
