Page 5 of Jingle All the Plays

“Whatever you have planned, sir, I’m willing to show you how eager I am to have and cherish Donnie Ruth’s bat.”

What.

A.

Suckass.

Well, fine then. I came on a mission—not dressed for a competition, mind you—but I’m not gonna let this weasel take what’s mine.

Fucking manifestion. That bat is wrapped with a gold bow, tucked under my tree waiting for Blake to open it. I’m picturing a teary-eyed thank you, despite the fact that Blake doesn’t cry.

“Maisy?” Percival interrupts my musings. I mean, manifestations.

“Yes, sir. I’m in.”

When I think of all things I’ve been in across my entire life, I’ve never been more in than how in I’m in now.

Chapter 4

Bo

“For what it’s worth—”

“That sounds like something serious, Bo. I’m gonna stop you right there.”

“I’m trying to say—”

“Please.” She points down to the snowshoes strapped to her feet. “We’re about to do a three-part race to compete for a bat we both want. But that I need more, so I need to concentrate.”

Percival already gave us the instructions and he’s clearly set up for this contest with signage everywhere behind his house. He’s got one guy—Ted—on a snowmobile going from station to station to check our progress. This is quite the elaborate scheme. Have to say, I really didn’t see this coming when I packed up for a short road trip, money transfer, bat-retrieval day.

But more than anything, due to guilt, my heart is gnawing off one of its own ventricles. I have to say something before this whole contest starts between us.

“Maisy, please listen.” I reach for her arm and she rears back, almost falling flat on her ass. The jerk back hurts almost as much as the bitter look on her face.

It never used to be like this between us.

And then I ruined it all.

My shoulders drop, but I try again. “Maisy, for what it’s worth. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not worth much at this point, Bo. It’s been a year, and you haven’t said anything this whole time. I don’t even know you anymore. Now let’s get this day over with so I can go home happy.”

“I need this bat just as much as you do.”

She scoffs at me. “Maybe your apology should include giving me the bat.”

And I know she’s only saying that because it would give her what she wants. Not because she would really accept it as an apology. If I even thought for one second she’d accept that gesture sincerely, I’d do it. But I know her. She doesn’t want anyone’s pity. She doesn’t want anyone giving her an easy way out. If anything, she’ll work harder to prove to everyone around her that she can do it. Whatever it is.

Despite the dejection I feel, I ask her, “You ready to go?”

“Let’s go.” And then the first thing she does is shove me in the shoulder, causing me to lose my balance, before she takes off following the signs to the first station.

I was so not ready for that. Also, I haven’t been snowshoeing since I was kid and they took us out on a field trip. Just a couple decades of snowshoeing dormancy basically.

Not gonna lie though, as peeved as I am that she cheated just now, the look of mischief in her beautiful eyes made the fall worth it.

I’m not sure which fall yet, but I can’t ponder that now. I’ve got a race to win.