Page 68 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“They never will.”
I sigh heavily. “I know.”
“Well, let me know if you need help finding anything, and hey, have you thought about your light display?”
“I have.” I catch Storee leaning in to hear. Wanting to mess with her, I say, “I was thinking about going simple this year, understated. I know how much you love a classic Christmas.”
Paula opens her mouth to protest, but I quickly press my finger to my lips and then nod toward Storee, who’s feigning interest in the plunger in her hand. Paula glances in that direction and then offers me a conspiratorial smile. And this is why being known in the town is going to work to my advantage.
“Oh yes,” she says robotically. “Classic Christmas. Subtle, understated. That’s what we’re looking for this year.”
“And with a heavy focus on blow-up decorations, right?” I add. “Because I have that fifty-foot Santa that I’m chomping at the bit to use.” Blow-up Christmas decorations are prohibited in the competition, which is spelled out in the rules. Not sure if Storee’s read the rules or not, but if she’s snooping around for ideas, I’m thinking that she doesn’t have any idea what’s going on.
“Fifty-foot, interesting. Where did you find a fifty-foot blowup?” Paula asks.
“Online. Shipping was a bitch, but he’s ready to be inflated.” I glance over at Storee, who knocks on the plunger, testing out the rubber. She nods in appreciation and then carries it against her shoulder as she heads down one of the aisles.
“Not going to work,” Paula whispers. “She’s smarter than you think.”
“You’re giving her too much credit,” I say.
Paula shakes her head, mirth in her eyes. “If she puts asixty-foot blowup in the front yard, you’re the one who’s going to have to face Krampus.”
I hold up my hands. “Not my problem.”
Chuckling, she nods toward the back. “You know the drill. If you need more of anything we have, I can pull from storage.”
“Got it.” I knock on her counter. “Thanks.” Then with my eyes on awandering Storee, I head to the back of the hardware store, where Paula and Peach keep all of their Christmas decorations. It’s probably the most comprehensive collection of lights and adornments in the world thanks to where we live. The store opens up in the back, elevating the space into two stories of decorations, all sorted by need.
Strands of lights are divided up by type of bulb, color, and size.
Extension cords and hanging devices—the accessories, if you will—are all in one area.
And then there are the prelit garlands, the unlit garlands, and the tinsel garlands. The lit-up nets for bushes, the projectors, and the balled-up lights. Not to mention the lawn ornaments, which are displayed by pictures in a binder to sift through and stored in the back.
Everything you could ever want.
Not sure what Max has planned, since he’s the one captaining the ship after last night. I pull out my phone and send him a text.
Cole:At the hardware store, anything you want me to grab for the light display?
While I wait for his response, I head upstairs, where I know they keep the string lights. I grab a basket while I’m at it, and from the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of Storee sneaking behind a shelf down below, her stealthy moves not stealthy at all.
My phone beeps in my hand, so I glance at the text from Max.
Max:Green. We need all the green.
Cole:I’m going to call you. Storee is following me around, so just go with whatever I say, okay?
Max:Ha! Okay.
I call Max, and he answers on the second ring just as Storee creeps upthe stairs, the creak of the old wood giving away her approach, but I act like I can’t hear it.
“So Storee is trying to get the scoop on what you’re doing?” Max answers.
“Hey man, yeah, I’m here at the hardware store,” I say. “Yup, that’s right.”
“Ahh, okay. So we’re roleplaying here,” Max says. He clears his throat. “So glad you called, Cole. We need to figure out what we’re doing with the decorations. I’m so scared, so worried, I actually threw up this morning from the nerves.”
