“What am I supposed to do with that?” I said in disbelief as the raffle committee chairman introduced me to the gleaming red and gold sleigh with a flourish.
“Honestly, buddy, I don’t care what you do with it,” Dave said, turning off the microphone and glaring at me, “But it’s your property now, and it needs to be out of here in fifteen minutes because the under-five girls in Mrs. Mayberry’s dance studio are doing their Sugar Plum Fairy performance.”
“What areyou going to do with a sleigh?” Eli asked me when he and all his brothers showed up later with a school bus to help me pick up the sleigh.
I smiled. “Funny you should ask. In fact, I have a grand gesture planned.”
81
Merrie
“You look so cute, Jingleball.”
I stared at my reflection in the mirror and tried not to cringe.
“And we’re twins,” my mom exclaimed, hugging me. Or tried to. The stiff Christmas tree pinafore I was wearing made it difficult to hug without both parties bending over at ninety-degree angles.
“I found the fabric at Goodwill,” my mom said, fussing with the dress. “I hot-glued the ornaments on myself and added the sparkly garlands to give it some pizzazz.”
The dress had been made from a fabric that had a picture of a literal Christmas tree, ornaments and all, printed on it.
I turned in the mirror, trying to convince myself that I didn’t look like a lunatic.
“Pull up your tights,” my mom said, reaching over to tug on my black tights.
“Mom!”
“I’m just trying to help, Jingleball! I want you to look your best. I even invited the mayor.”
“Oh my god.”
One of the hot-glued ornaments fell off the dress and crashed to the floor. Three cats yowled and raced after it.
When I walked out into the dining room where Olivia was helping Bettina set up the snack table, my friend almost dropped the tray of macaroni and cheese bites she was holding.
“You look…” She groped for words.
“Deranged?”
“You look very festive,” Aunt Bettina assured me.
Olivia handed me a mug of Christmas punch.
“The only silver lining in my completely screwing up my happily ever after with Matt is that he doesn’t have to see me in this monstrosity,” I said into my cup.
Olivia patted my shoulder, or tried to. The Christmas tree dress had oversized shoulder pads.
“Everyone’s talking about this Christmas party,” Olivia told me. “Maybe he’ll show up. You never know.”
“Maybe,” I said unhappily.
Just like I needed to accept that I was a failed small business owner, I needed to accept that I failed at having a relationship.
My life was not a Hallmark Christmas movie. Instead, it was one of those horror movies in which the girl was left wandering around in the dark screaming and covered in leaves when the credits rolled.
But every time the doorbell rang, my hopes would briefly rise, thinking maybe it was Matt. But it never was. Instead, it was a steady stream of townspeople who wanted to gawk at the girl who had a nervous breakdown in the middle of Main Street and threatened the beloved town firewood provider.
“You’ve been working too hard is what I say,” an elderly woman was telling me. “You need to be having regular sex. All that pent-up desire isn’t good for your heart.”
