Frosting Her Christmas Cookies - Alina Jacobs Page 0,49
downtown Harrogate was too big for them, and it was a small town.
“We are here to support Sarah in her journey,” my aunt said, blinking nervously.
“Did you finally dump your cheating husband?” I asked Sarah. “Good for you.”
“Oy, Matilda!”
“Morticia,” I seethed as Sarah’s husband, Trevor, sauntered over.
“Did you order my pretzel, babe?” he asked Sarah.
“I believe in forgiveness,” Sarah said, voice quivering. “I have forgiven Trevor for his transgressions against me.”
“You mean cheating on you with your own sister and maid of honor the night before your wedding?” Lilith asked, dipping her pretzel bite into cheese sauce. “I hope that forgiveness came with a vacay to Hawaii and a shopping spree.”
“We’re working on our relationship. We are going to have a baby to fix things,” Sarah said earnestly. “But first, we have to heal old wounds and move on from the past.”
Trevor was shifting his weight on his feet. “She won’t let me exercise my husbandly rights until we work this out,” Trevor stated. “Hey, can I have one of your pretzel bites?” He reached toward Lilith’s paper tray. One of Salem’s paws snuck out of her purse and swiped at Trevor, who jumped back with a curse.
“Good cat,” Lilith said smugly.
I looked between Trevor and Sarah.
“You haven’t consummated your marriage from eight months ago?” Lilith asked.
“Hey,” Trevor said, wagging his finger in Lilith’s face. I grabbed my twin before she could bite it off. “After my transgression, I have repented and become a spiritual leader. Sarah is purifying her thoughts before we truly become man and wife.”
“Or maybe she was so turned off by you that she is putting it off,” Lilith retorted.
“Babe,” Trevor whined to Sarah, “tell them it isn’t true. You and me are going to have our own little spiritual retreat out in the woods together and have twenty-five babies and have our own reality TV show, right?”
My womb shriveled up.
“That’s right,” Sarah said earnestly. “But we have to move past this hurdle before we can become one spiritual and carnal being.”
“Guess we better order you a sausage pretzel dog, too, Sarah,” Lilith said.
“She’s still a virgin,” Aunt Karen said. “She’s a good girl, keeping herself tidy for marriage.”
“There’s tidy and then there are mental hang-ups,” I drawled.
Emma stood by and scarfed down her pretzel while watching the drama unfold.
I felt sorry for Sarah. She had always been the mousy one compared to Keeley and her partying ways. All Sarah had wanted was the fairy-tale ending—the husband, the family, the kids—and now she was saddled with Trevor.
“Dump him and find someone new,” I urged her. “There are a lot of elves in the toy shop.”
“The sex toy shop, that is,” Lilith cackled.
Sarah shuddered. “I would never use something like that.”
“Of course my daughter wouldn’t,” my uncle blustered. “She’s a good girl. You two were always horrible influences. You’re the ones who turned Keeley to a life of denigration.”
“Because it wasn’t her own sociopathic nature,” Lilith said, rolling her eyes.
“I can feel the devil wafting off of you,” my uncle continued, fanny pack quivering with indignation. “Begone!” he thundered, pointing a finger at us.
I took a bite of my pretzel as my uncle panted. I didn’t want Larry to think I was leaving because of him.
“Babe,” Trevor whined. “I want a pretzel. Why haven’t you ordered it for me yet?”
“And that’s why cats are better than men,” Lilith said, petting Salem as we walked into a high-end department store with towering Christmas displays.
“Cats won’t cheat on you on your wedding day.”
“But they will be super demanding for expensive food,” I said as Salem made soft meows. I gave him a treat to keep him quiet.
“You’re not supposed to bring animals in here,” one of the well-dressed saleswomen said, hurrying over. She was wearing a black Chanel suit with snowflake earrings and several large, sparkly Christmas brooches.
“He’s my emotional support animal,” Lilith deadpanned. Salem stuck his tongue out.
The saleswoman made a face. “Outside,” she ordered.
“Guess we’ll go somewhere else,” Emma said.
“Yeah,” Lilith added with a predatory grin. “Too bad you’re going to lose out on the commission.”
“I highly doubt…”
Lilith pulled out Jonathan’s credit card and fanned herself.
“We better hurry, Morticia. We don’t want to show up empty-handed and disappoint Mr. Frost.”
“Frost?” the saleswoman was intrigued. “We have some lovely decorations to choose from.”
She led us through the store. Lilith and I pulled yards of gauzy fabric, boxes and boxes of glass and metallic ornaments, ribbons, and lights. We did not buy fake Christmas trees. I had a feeling