A Christmas Delight

9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Joel

S moke fills the kitchen and the living room. I swear under my breath as I rush back to the stove and turn off the heat. That steak is burnt. What a waste. If only I wasn’t so lost in my dumb thoughts, that wouldn’t have happened. I open the window wide to let out some of the smoke. The biting air is refreshing.

I head back to the living room and open the windows there as well. Everything is going to smell like burnt meat. Myself included.

I pause, gazing at Maisie’s Christmas lights. She set a timer, so they turn on automatically at six every evening. The inflatable snowman stands tall, its music box now singing Silent Night.

It’s pretty, all those lights. Pretty not because I care about them or want to put some in front of my house. Pretty because they give me insights on Maisie’s bubbly personality. She was so intent on doing something good for herself, I can only admire that. And it wasn’t the bright lights that made me put on the sunglasses the other night. It was the way her eyes sparkled, and I was afraid she’d see the way I looked at her. So, I chose to be a smartass instead.

My thoughts turn back to Finn. Why did he have to ask her out? I mean, Of course, he asked her out. It really shouldn’t bother me. It’s none of my business. And yet imagining Maisie on a date with that prick makes me sick.

Then ask her out yourself.

But I can’t do that, and not because of the stupid bet with Brent. I’ve ruined someone’s life before and got mine ruined. I can’t do that again. She probably thinks I’m a grump, anyway. I don’t know why I get myself so worked up over this.

Movement catches my eye next door. The front door opens, and the woman we saw at the café and the Donut Delight earlier comes out. Maisie’s mother, I now know. She looks at the mess of cables on the porch, then bends down and looks down the wall just inside the house, and all the lights go out. She lets out a satisfied sigh and goes back inside.

I may be a Grinch, but seeing that woman unplug everything after Maisie worked so hard to set all that up makes me angry. The snowman is slowly sinking in on itself.

A familiar figure walks down the street. I recognize the white, blue, and red coat and the beanie with a pompom at the top. Maisie seems lost in thought as she carries a cup of coffee and doesn’t immediately see that her lights have gone out. It’s when she reaches the driveway that she raises her head and pauses. Her face instantly falls, stirring the anger in my stomach.

Against my better judgement, I grab my set of keys and head outside, going to the letterbox as nonchalantly as I can manage.

Maisie inspects the power strip, probably wondering why nothing is working. I should shut my mouth. It’s rude to intrude.

“She unplugged them from the inside.”

Maisie pops her head out from the porch and sees me getting my mail.

“Your mother. She seemed bothered by them,” I add, as though she didn’t already know who I was talking about. Idiot.

She slightly shakes her head, pressing her lips into a tight line, and walks in my direction. I meet her halfway.

“Of course, she did. Was she wearing sunglasses too?” A teasing grin touches her lips, and it’s hard not to look at them.

“No. That’s why she unplugged them. Maybe that should be her Christmas gift. Sunglasses. That way she doesn’t mess with them anymore.”

Maisie lets out a little laugh and glances back at her house. “She’d only find other ways to torment me.”

Her smile is gone now, and I think back to what happened in the donut shop. Dad, Brent, and I tried not to listen, but the space isn’t big. I’d also be pissed if my dad gave my phone number to a stranger, trying to force me on a date, and criticized the way I was living my life. Luckily, my dad would never do that.

“Sorry you had to see that, earlier,” Maisie says, as though reading my mind. “I’ve only lived here a week, and you got to see more embarrassing life moments than my best friends have, and I basically grew up with them.”

“That’s all right. Plus, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course, you don’t.”

“It’s not like we could hear.”

“Mm-hm. Right.”

We chuckle awkwardly. At least, I’m awkward. She’s perfect.

“I have to go and deal with the light situation, among other things,” she says, edging back toward her house.

“Of course. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and Maisie?”

She turns back to me, her eyebrow raised.

“If you need anything,” I say, “Eggs, flour, a place to hide from your mother…”

She laughs, a sound so beautiful my heart skips a beat.

“You know where to find me,” I finish.

“I may take you up on that.”

“Of course. Actually, please don’t ask for eggs. I’m always running out of them.”

“Got it.” Maisie turns back to her house, hesitates, then looks at me again. “Hey, I was wondering. You know Finn, right? The guy who owns the café?”

A scoff escapes me. “He works at the café. Doesn’t own it.”

“Oh. He said he owned it.”

“He works for his parents.”

“Okay. Do you know him well?”

I shrug. “A little.”

“How is he? As a person.”

“He needs to take more driving lessons.”

She chuckles. “Ah, yes. I remember that. Anything else you can tell me about him?”

I grit my teeth. She isn’t actually considering going on a date with that dimwit, is she?

Maisie tilts her head. “Joel?”

“Do you want the polite answer or the honest answer?"

“Honest.”

“He’s a jerk. Run away.”

“Really?” she says, wincing as though disappointed.

“He’s a petulant child who thinks he’s better than everybody else,” I add.

“Okay.”

“I’ve been dreaming of punching that smug smile off his face for a while.”

Maisie chortles and puts a hand over her mouth. “You hate him. Got it.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Alright, well, thanks for your honesty. I have to go now.”

I nod, edging back to my house as well. I haven’t realized until now that the sharp cold was biting at my exposed skin. “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

I walk back to my porch and glance back at Maisie. Despite the cold, I wouldn’t have minded staying outside if it meant talking to her. Even now, I’m raking my brain to find what else I could tell her that’d keep her here with me for another minute. It’s stupid, I know.

And I can’t come up with anything before Maisie opens her front door and disappears inside.