Page 45 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“Well, you look great, Storee, and I’m sure you came up with a delicious eggnog, especially if Cindy was by your side the whole time.”
Ew. I don’t like him saying cordial things to me like that. Even though I know he doesn’t mean a word of it, I still don’t like it.
But going along with the show, I say, “Thank you. And you look nice yourself.”
He smirks and then holds his arms out to Martha and Mae. “May I have the pleasure of escorting you two beautiful ladies to Prancer’s Libations?”
“We’d love that,” Martha says as both she and Mae loop their arms through his.
“See you there,” Cole tells us, and then together they all walk down the sidewalk toward town.
“Hold on a second,” Aunt Cindy says as we start walking, pushing her along with us.
Taran and I both pause.
“Did you forget something?” Taran asks.
Aunt Cindy shakes her head and then looks up at me. “What did you do?”
“What did I do?” I ask, my brow crinkled. “What do you mean what did I do? I didn’t do anything.”
“You did something, because that interaction right there, it was tense. What’s going on between you and Cole?”
“There’s something going on between you two?” Taran asks.
“No,” I say. “I mean, like…nothing except that he’s my competition.”
Aunt Cindy doesn’t buy it, because she wiggles her finger at me, telling me to come closer. I don’t want to, but I do.
When our faces are only a few inches apart, she says, “What…did…you…do?”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat as anxiety creeps up my back.
I wet my dry lips. “Um, nothing that I really know of, but, uh, he did have some words with me, and I’m not sure where they came from, but there were words.”
“What kinds of words?” Taran asks.
“The kinds of words that weren’t nice,” I reply.
“Why?” Aunt Cindy asks.
“Uh, I don’t know. He just said I didn’t deserve to be the Christmas Kringle and that it was going to be his particular mission to make sure I didn’t win.”
“What?” Aunt Cindy snaps, and then leans back in her chair, looking defeated. “He said that to you?”
“Yes, was that…uh, was that not a Christmas-y thing to say? Maybe we should tell the council. Warn them of his Grinch-y behavior.”
“No,” Aunt Cindy says with a stern tone. “We’re not going to say anything about it.” She stares off at their retreating backs. “This is not good.”
“Why not?” I ask. “I can beat Cole. I don’t see him as a threat.”
“You should,” Aunt Cindy says. “He’s a very large threat.”
“Why? He’s not very personable. That display right there was all fake, and sure, Martha and Mae might have bought it, but not everyone will.”
“It’s not that.” Aunt Cindy folds her hands on her lap. “He’ll be a large threat because this will be the first Christmas he’s participated in since his parents passed away.”
“His parents…passed away?” I ask.How did I not know about that?It must have been recent.
