Mistletoe Magic (Evergreen Lake: Under the Mistletoe)

Chapter 6

six

CHRIS

I’d left Holly to wrangle her daughter, offering to run to the store. I told her I wasn’t worried about the storm front coming in, but that wasn’t entirely true. I’d lived in Evergreen Lake long enough to have endured this before and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

Leaving them upstairs, I went down to my workshop and started to clean up the office. Although it was my mess, tidying it up wasn’t at the top of my to-do list, but suddenly, it seemed it was a priority.

An hour later, I’d emptied the trash, wiped the desk, filed away all of the paperwork, and tossed all the dirty clothes out. When I checked my stockpile of wood in the corner, the groan strangled from the back of my throat annoyed me. It would be enough for a few hours, but I had a feeling we were going to need more. A lot more.

I stomped over to the corner, pulled on my jacket, and changed my shoes. If I had to haul in wood to keep that fire burning, the last thing I needed to do was get wet.

I cursed my lack of gloves with the first load.

The second, I almost slipped on ice and ended up on my ass .

The third, I swore would be my last.

The fourth, I could barely feel my nose.

The fifth, the tips of my ears stung as the wind whipped around me.

The sixth, I was done.

It would be enough to get us through the night if it came to that, but we’d need more if it went longer. I yanked, pulled, and cursed until the tarp was back in place, keeping the wood pile dry before going back inside.

“That’ll do,” I told myself, checking it one last time.

If we ended up having to come down here, we’d have to bring blankets and pillows, but that wouldn’t be an issue. Bedding, on the other hand.

A charcoal gray couch was against one wall that Noelle could sleep on—she was the only one of us who’d fit and have any chance at all of being comfortable. I had an inflatable air mattress in the storage area above the office, but I only had one. Holly and I would have to share. There wasn’t another choice that I could see. No one could sleep on the floor. Even though it was carpeted, that wouldn’t be enough to stop the cold from seeping through the concrete and into your bones.

It won’t come to that, I promised myself, flicking off the office lights and heading out to my truck.

I jumped in and blasted the heat, trying to thaw my frozen fingers and wondering where the hell I’d left my gloves.

The radio station crackled, and when I tried to change it, the others were no better.

“Storm front moving in ... seen the worst of it yet … batten down the hatches …” I couldn’t really make out what he was saying but I heard enough. This storm was a doozy, and it was about to ruin Christmas.

“Not on my fucking watch,” I declared as I backed out onto the street. The wipers were working overtime, trying to keep the windshield clear so I could see. Thankfully, I knew my way to the store like the back of my hand.

I kept focused making sure I didn’t hit anything I shouldn’t. The gutters were buried under drifts of snow, and the only lines were the slushy tracks from the tires that had passed before me.

I pulled up out the front and got a park right at the door. I peered through the windshield hoping they were still open. I hadn’t really thought about what I’d do if they’d already closed for the night. Thankfully, the lights were still on.

I jumped out of the truck and ducked inside, stomping the snow from my boots on the mat.

“Hey, Chris. What brings you out in this weather?” Joe, the store owner, asked from where he stood, mop in hand.

“You know me, nothing like leaving it until the last minute.” I shrugged, deliberately keeping it vague.

I had no issues with Holly and Noelle staying with me. Sure, it was a bit awkward, and trying to keep myself from saying or doing something stupid when it came to Holly was hard, just like my dick in my pants, but we’d survive. The one thing I didn’t want, though, was the whole town talking about it. They already knew my sad story and Christmas allergy, I didn’t want them gossiping over the eggnog about the new woman in my life.

“Well, there’s not much left.” He shrugged. “People really stocked up this year. Good for me, I guess. Maybe not so good for you.”

“I’ll be fine,” I grumbled, already hating this shopping expedition.

I grabbed a cart and started down the aisle. I made it to the end of the first aisle before I realized the cart was still empty. When I usually shopped for just me, there was no cart involved. I walked in, grabbed a couple of frozen pizzas, a couple of bags of crisps and the necessities, and got the hell back out again. In and out and done, all under five minutes. I’d learned the hard way, too, if I took any longer than that, someone would stop me and want to chat. I didn’t chat. I wasn’t the chatting type. I was the strong, silent type who preferred to make a donation than man a booth and be forced to interact with people. I might be the Christmas Grinch but my dislike of people ran true all year around.

With a shake of my head, I spun around and walked back up the same aisle again. This time, forcing myself to pay attention. I had no idea how long I’d have guests, and even worse, I had no idea what a kid ate, let alone a woman like Holly. Holly was seriously hot. I had to imagine she ate fruits and vegetables and watched every meal. I mean, she had curves in all the right places, and her tits were the perfect handful, but she obviously took care of herself.

I had no idea.

I was lost.

I started grabbing anything that could possibly make sense. Breakfast cereal. Bread. Cheese.

I dug my phone from my pocket to check the list Holly had texted me when I rammed into someone.

“Ouch!”

“Shit! Sorry, I wasn’t …”

“Looking where you were going,” Mike finished for me.

I was actually relieved he was the one I smashed into, not some little old lady I’d knocked on her ass.

Mike and I had known each other forever. I don’t remember where he’d come from, but I’d met him at the Reindeer Hole one night. It was before Shayna had destroyed my life. We were drinking and joking and mucking around. He was Australian and headed to the lodge to work for the winter. At three in the morning, we were kicked out and ended up back at my place, tossing back the beers and talking shit .

“You Yanks know nothing. Australia’s so much better,” he teased.

The argument had been going on all night. Which country was better? We’d covered sports, politics, health care, but now it had turned serious. Food. And more specifically, chocolate.

“You’ve never had a Tim Tam?” Mike asked, shocked.

“What the hell is a Tim Tam?”

I’d lived in Evergreen Lake my whole life. I’d never been out of the state. When would I have heard of Tim Tims?

“You’re serious?”

“Of course, I’m fucking serious?”

“You’ve never heard of a Tim Tam? They’re a chocolate biscuit dipped in chocolate. You do a Tim Tam slam with them?”

The look on my face must’ve told him everything. Next thing I knew, he was calling his girlfriend Nicole, demanding she get out of bed and bring us down a packet. I didn’t hear her end of the call, but she never arrived, so I could only guess how that went.

After that, Mike and I became fast friends. For the next few years, he’d worked at the ski resort, while Nicole took a job at Evergreen Inn. First, she worked the front reception desk, these days her bossiness had paid off and she was the operations manager, working when she could around wrangling their two kids, Chip and Harvey. And trust me, those kids took some wrangling. I’d been conned into babysitting a time or two, and as much as I loved them, I loved them much better when I just got to swing by, be the fun uncle, cause chaos then disappear again.

“What the hell you doing out in this weather?” he asked.

“Umm … I could ask you the same,” I threw back at him, trying to deflect the attention back onto him .

“Nicole sent me.”

“Of course she did.”

Nicole was a ball buster, but she was exactly what Mike needed. I’d never met a ski instructor who insisted on wearing Hawaiian shirts and flip-flops in the middle of winter.

“It’s less than twenty-four hours before her family invades for Christmas Day and she’s convinced it has to be perfect.”

“They get in okay?”

“Yeah. Thankfully, they beat the storm and are already settled in at the Inn.”

“That’s good.”

“Now, if she and her mother don’t kill each other, we may just survive the holidays in one piece.”

“They that bad?”

“Nah. They’re both just used to getting their way so I’m steering clear of the kitchen tomorrow at all costs.”

“Smart move.”

“You sure you don’t want to come over? You know there’s always a spot for you,” Mike invited.

Even if I didn’t have Noelle and Holly waiting for me at home, I didn’t want a pity invite. Besides, Mike can navigate the whole wife versus mother-in-law thing on his own. I didn’t need to get caught in that drama.

“I’m good,” I promised.

Mike looked down at my cart, and when he lifted his head again, I could see the questions. “You got friends over for the holidays, Chris? Or should I say ‘friend’?” he asked, using air quotes.

Fuck it!

I’d almost managed to dodge the bullet of this conversation, but it didn’t look like I was getting out of it.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” I started, knowing Mike was a bigger gossip than his wife, and that was saying something. “I’m just helping them out. ”

“Them?”

“Holly and her daughter, Noelle.”

“Oh-kay. And where did Holly and her daughter Noelle come from?”

“I picked them up out on Highway 87.”

“You literally picked them up?”

“No. I mean, they had an accident on the way up to the resort.”

“There’s no getting up there,” Mike pointed out. “They’re completely cut off. Will be for days, I reckon.”

“Yeah, we figured that out when I tried to get them up there.”

“So, they’re staying with you?”

“Just until the storm clears. The Inn is full.”

“Overflowing is a better word for it. Nicole’s phone hasn’t stopped. Seems the storm’s rolling in and knocking out people’s power already.”

“Shit!”

“Yeah.”

“I better get my ass moving then.”

“Sounds like it. You don’t want to let Holly and her daughter Noelle down.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that.”

“Yep.” Mike grinned before putting me in a headlock and rubbing my hair. “But you love me.”

I shoved him off. “That’s debatable. But since you’re being a pain in the ass and no doubt going to run home and blab, you can help me.”

“Chris, I would, but Nicole …”

“Can wait five minutes. You have to help me,” I demanded, not bothering to hide the desperation in my voice.

I saw the moment he conceded defeat. “What do you need?”

“You have kids. What the fuck do they eat? ”

Mike burst out laughing. Like a loud, bellowing belly laughter.

“You’re an asshole,” I repeated as Mike continued to laugh like a goddamn hyena.

When he pulled himself together, holding his sides and whining about having a stitch, I told him he deserved it.

“Come on, let’s get you some kid-friendly food,” he offered, clapping me on the back just as my phone chimed in my pocket.

I pulled it out of my pocket as I tried to navigate around the corner with one hand. “Holly just texted me. Need to get these things too,” I told him, handing him my phone.

“Dude! You’re fucking whipped.” Mike started laughing again.

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re pussy-whipped, and you know it. This chick will have a Christmas tree in your window and your balls in her purse by the end of the day.”

I bit my tongue.

No fucking way was I telling him we’d already picked up a tree and they were decorating as we spoke. All I could do was wish I had moved it out of the window so no one could see if they drove by. Last thing I needed was Mike thinking he was right. I’d never hear the end of that.

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

When Joe hurried us up, telling us he wanted to close early and get home, I was grateful that Mike had to shut his big mouth and get moving. Quick enough, we filled my cart with everything I could possibly need, including shit I had no idea how to cook. I’d never cooked a roast chicken in my life, so why Mike thought it would be a good idea, I didn’t understand.

“You’ll be fine,” he promised supportively. “And if Holly and her daughter Noelle can’t help you, give Nicole a call. I’m sure she’ll be happy to walk you through it. ”

“Won’t she be busy with her own lunch and her mother?”

“Trust me, for this, she’ll make time,” Mike assured me as we stood inside the heavy glass doors watching the snow coming down.

“You’re an asshole,” I reminded him.

“So you keep saying.”

“Well, don’t want you to forget.” I shrugged.

“Merry Christmas, Chris,” Mike offered, giving me a one-armed, awkward man hug.

“Merry Christmas, Mike,” I returned before shoving open the door and stepping out into the cold. “Holy shit!” I swore as the wind whipped around me, the icy cold biting into my skin.

I loaded my bags into the truck before throwing open the driver’s door.

“Hey, Chris?” Mike called out, leaning over the roof of his mom-mobile.

“Yeah?”

“Remember, it’s Christmas. Kids love Christmas. Don’t ruin it by being a Grinch!”

I flipped him the bird, and his laughter faded as he climbed into the car.

Sliding behind the wheel, I sat there for a moment, waiting for it to warm up before carefully reversing out of the parking lot.

I took the long way home, which in reality, in a town like Evergreen Lake meant it took me six minutes to get home instead of the usual four. The town was deserted. The skating rink closed, the sign half buried in a snow drift. The festival looked sad—with all its lights off, decorations toppled over, and a snowman now in pieces.

With a disappointed shake of my head, I turned onto Main Street past the fire station where their lights blinked red and green. Slowing at the intersection, I found myself worrying about how bad this was about to get. It was time to get home and bunker down for the next few days I suspected.

I slowed the truck to a crawl.

Up ahead was my shop.

In my apartment window above it was a Christmas tree with white lights. Even from here, I could see them. But it was the sign stuck to the glass saying ‘Merry Christmas’ that had me cursing. There was no avoiding it. Christmas had made it to my house this year and I could do nothing to stop it. Not unless I wanted to break a little girl's heart. And just because mine had been battered and bruised didn’t mean I was going to let her down. Noelle was getting the Christmas she deserved. Even if that meant I had to bury my hatred of the holiday and step into the jolly man’s suit.