Page 71 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“Storee,” Taran interrupts. “Blowups are not allowed in town, letalone in the competition. Bob Krampus did away with them a few years ago.”
I look between the two of them. “Are you sure? Because there were some in the store.”
“Probably for out-of-towners,” Taran says.
I bite on my lip. “I don’t know about that. He was really enthusiastic about this fifty-foot Santa. I mean, I was impressed to hear about it. That seems pretty tall, but then I thought,How big is a house? Who knows, maybe it’s one of those house-sized blowups, and I considered getting an even bigger one. I was so busy running back here to tell you the news that I didn’t see if there was one that was bigger than—”
Taran tosses the Kringle competition folder on the coffee table. “It’s in the rules, if you read them. No blowups. All light-up displays must be comprised of mostly lights and garland. Lawn ornaments can only make up about ten percent of the display, so you could have a light-up Santa on your roof and some reindeer, but the challenge is really about how well you can hang and maneuver the lights.”
I stare down at the folder and then back up at them. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Taran says.
I glance over at Aunt Cindy, and she slowly nods, bursting my sleuthing bubble.
I rock back on my heels and feel my entire body sag in defeat.
“That motherfucker,” I whisper.
“Oh dear,” Aunt Cindy says, pressing her hand to her chest.
“Seriously, Storee, did you really think he was going to give away his idea for his light display right in front of you?”
“I don’t know…maybe?” I reply. “I was being sneaky.”
“I’ve seen you try to be sneaky,” Aunt Cindy says. “Trying to scope out your presents over the years. I love you, Storeebook, but you are anything but sneaky.”
I lean back and lie flat on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling. “And hereI thought I had the scoop. Damn it.” I clench my fists at my sides. “Well then, what are we going to do? Do you think Paula and Peach really want understated and classic like he said?”
“No,” Taran says. “He was tricking you. Honestly, Storee, are you that gullible?”
“No, I just really believed I’m that good at going undetected. I guess I’m not.” Huffing, I sit up and slam my fist on the coffee table. “We need to seek revenge.”
“Careful on the wood, dear,” Aunt Cindy says. “Taran just polished that for me.”
“Sorry,” I say. “But seriously, what’s the plan?”
Taran pulls out a notebook and opens it up. “Here’s what we have to do…”
“I’m freezing my ass off,” I mutter to Taran as I shiver in my boots, holding on to rows and rows of string lights while she pulls out her tape measure once again.
“It’s not even that cold out,” Taran says as she marks a spot on the house with a piece of chalk.
“Aunt Cindy has a portable heater in front of her,” I counter.
“Because she’s supposed to be on her deathbed, remember? She told me she was getting toasty, so I had to pull her out of the sun and put her in the shade. It’s all about appearances,” Taran says, getting more into this than I expected.
“Why can’t I have a portable heater?” I shiver, the cold tracing all the way down my spine, causing my body to convulse unattractively. “I can’t feel my toes, Taran.”
“We’ve been out here for ten minutes,” Taran says on a huff. “How are we going to get this done if you keep complaining?”
“Um, how are we going to get this done if all you’ve done is measure?We need to start hanging things up,” I say. “Look at Cole and Max—they already have half of the house done.”
“And in a sloppy manner,” Taran says. “Trust me, precision is key when it comes to lights.”
“How do you know?” I ask. “You’ve never hung lights in your life.”
“I hung some on my apartment balcony,” Taran counters. “And people appreciated them.”
