Page 69 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“Too much, man.”
He chuckles. “Hey, I’m trying to play a role here, can you not disturb me?”
Ignoring him, I thumb through the storage catalog that Peach has put together and say, “Talked to Paula, and she said they were looking for understated this year. Classic Christmas.”
“Oh shit, she said that out loud? I don’t think Storee’s going to believe it.”
“Yeah, understated, but she also said she liked the fifty-foot Santa. I know, I know, a clash of ideas,” I say. “But I got the feeling she was looking for an impressive blowup to be the centerpiece of the whole design, and then with understated lights around it.”
“She’s going to kill you, man,” Max says on a laugh.
“Do you think fifty feet is big enough?”
“Is that even a thing?” Max asks. “That seems really big, man. You should have gone with twenty.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I say. “So, we do the Santa and a snow globe that blows up, the kind that makes all the noise.”
“Are you talking about the one that George Whitmeyer had out on his front lawn that Bob Krampus popped in the middle of the night?”
“Yeah, that one,” I say, still thumbing through the catalog as I catchStoree move from one shelf to the other, picking up a candy cane lawn ornament and giving it a good examination from top to bottom.
“Krampus still denies popping that, you know. Even though they have him on camera. Said he’d never do something to destroy the Christmas spirit in town and that someone framed him.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Oh yeah, I heard some people talking about it at Warm Your Spirit, but then Krampus walked in and they all got quiet before saying merry Christmas to him and walking away. I think he knew they were talking about him because his nose got red.”
“Not the nose,” I say, forgetting that I’m supposed to be acting.
“Yup, the nose. It was terrifying, or at least that’s what I heard. Anyway, is she still following you?”
“Yes. Okay, so you want me to get that?” I say as Storee moves toward the stairs again, carefully walking down them.
“The green lights? Yeah, man. Grab them. I have plans.”
“Want to tell me what they are?”
“Let’s just say your house is going to be wrapped up like a bow. I was working on a design with my dad last night. We got this one in the bag.”
“Who won last year? Do you remember?”
“Jimmy Short,” he answers. “He’s the one you need to be concerned about the most. Quite sure he enters the Kringle competition just to get credit for his displays. They’re always phenomenal.”
I grip the back of my neck. “Never seen them.”
“Because you don’t leave your cave during Christmas. Interesting that a girl has you changing your tune.”
“That’s not the reason,” I grumble.
“Uh-huh, you keep telling yourself that.”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Okay, I’m hanging up now.”
“Get all the green,” he says right before I hang up.
Storee
I fly into the house, slam the door shut, and then move into the living room, where I draw the curtains, shutting out the light from the outside world.
