Page 18 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
I offer my aunt a gentle smile, trying to ease her into accepting that I won’t be participating. “It really sounds like a great time, but I must admit, I’m not sure—”
“I had your application dropped off today. Bob Krampus is excited to see what you can bring to the competition.”
My expression falls. “You already gave my application to Santa? Aforgedapplication?”
She nods. “Yup. Quite thrilled you’re giving your performative spirit another try.”
And there it is…a mention of the past that still likes to haunt me in my dreams.
“Aunt Cindy—”
“It’s a done deal,” Taran chimes in. “You’re going to participate in the Christmas Kringle, and I’m going to take care of Aunt Cindy.”
“But—”
“You know, I’m feeling a little weak,” Aunt Cindy says, bringing her hand up to her cheek. “I think…I think I should lie down.” Oh my God, a few seconds ago she was frothing at the mouth, excited about the Christmas Kringle, and now she’s feeling weak. Someone has been attending acting school.
“Let me help you to your room,” Taran says as she assists Aunt Cindy to a standing position with her walker.
I sit back in my chair and watch as my great-aunt hunches over, pretending to be feeble and incapable when minutes ago she was blushing from the thought of Niall, the G-string-thrusting Santa.
I knew I was going to get played. I just didn’t realize it was going to be like this.
“That should do it,” I mutter to myself as I finish turning all the dolls in the room around so I don’t have to look at their faces.
I take a step back, observing my work, making sure I didn’t miss any, when there’s a knock at my door.
Taran appears, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “You really think that’s going to help?” she asks.
“It will,” I say and then look her in the eyes. “And I swear to God, Taran, if you come in here and turn one of them around, I will be a fixture on that trundle bed, offering you zero privacy with Guy.”
She smirks, as she probably already had the thought to mess with me. But at least the threat is out there. I will not tolerate any sort of funny business when it comes to me and these dolls.
“Did Aunt Cindy go to bed?”
“Yes,” Taran says while I take a seat on the bed.
“Now, about this Christmas Kringle thing. Do we think that she is possibly mistaken, that maybe she turned in an application for herself? You know, I think I saw an article somewhere that linked dementia with broken hips. Maybe dinner tonight was a dementia moment for her.”
“First of all, dementia is not something to joke about.”
“I wasn’t joking. I’m serious about the article,” I say.
“And secondly,” she continues, completely ignoring me, “she was very serious. While I was helping her into her nightgown, she made me promise her that I’d make sure to keep you in the competition.”
“And you said no, I’d never do that to my sister, right? After everything she’s been through, I wouldn’t torture her like that?”
“I told her you’d do it.”
I flop back on the floral bedspread and stare up at the canopy. “Taran, why? You know I can’t…I can’t do anything that requires performing.”
“You don’t even know what the Christmas Kringle thing is,” Taran says.
I sit back up, propped up by my hands behind me, and say, “Uh, yeah, I do. While you were combing Aunt Cindy’s hair, I was looking it uponline. There are several competitions required to become the Christmas Kringle, and they all play out in front of the town. I’m not doing it.”
Taran sighs and walks over to the bed, where she takes a seat. “Storee, don’t you think it’s time that you get over your fears?”
“Get over my fears?” I say, exasperated. “Taran, I was humiliated in front of this town. The last thing I want to do is relive that.”
