houses. Then Wyatt’s arranged for Hank and Marie to come over and do the judgin’.”
Wyatt beams down at my stunned face.
“My parents are coming over?”
He nods. “They couldn’t make it for dinner and the competition cuz of that body they had to pick up at the retirement home, but they said they’d come by to meet my grandparents and visit for a bit after. Worked out perfectly.” He squeezes my hand. “We needed judges…and I’ve never met anyone more judgy than your father.”
Has he met his grandmother?
“This could be the best Christmas ever.” I press a chaste kiss to his plump lips while trying not to swoon over the fact that he thought to invite my mom and dad.
Our holidays are usually spent at the funeral home—just me and Prissy and my folks. It’s extremely rare that they aren’t interrupted with business of some kind. And while it’s nice to be out surrounded by loved ones, doing normal festive things, I still feel guilty for leaving them out.
“That’s what I’m hoping.” He grips my chin, sending a wave of desire rushing through me. “The first of many best Christmases ever.”
“You two ’bout done?” Mimi intrudes, smashing her hands to her hips and tapping her right foot against the floor.
My cheeks flame when I notice the rest of the room staring at the two of us. “Yep,” I say, backing away from temptation. “All done.”
“As I was sayin’,” Pop continues. “The winner gets this here trophy.” He holds up a little six-inch gold gingerbread man in the Heisman stance on a stone block. “And bragging rights for a year. Clock starts…now!”
With that we each grab a seat and set to working on constructing our houses.
“At least Rufus is good for something,” Kate muses, watching her daughter—who’s almost never far enough away she can’t make one quick turn and crawl back up in that uterus of hers—climbing all over him.
“Uh, do you mean Sprinkles?” my little sasshole asks while blobbing icing on the corners of her walls.
“My bad,” Kate giggles. “Forgot he’s a sissy dog now.”
Prissy rolls her eyes before promptly getting back to work.
“How’d you get yours to hold together so well?” I ask Wyatt, who’s already moved on to lining the edges of his house with gumdrops, while I can’t get my damn roof to stop sliding off.
He shrugs. “You gotta get the icing and cookie lined up right. It’s all about balance.”
Prissy’s having about as much luck as I am, so I don’t say a word when I see her little genius self chewing up pieces of gum and sneaking them on the inner corners of her house to use as glue when she thinks no one’s watching.
“I concede!” I announce, ready to throw the damn thing into the trash. “I don’t have the patience for this.”
“You can reconstruct an entire face, but can’t get a few pieces of cookie to hold together?” Kate taunts.
Braggy little bitch.
I toss a peppermint stick in her direction, nailing her right between the tits.
Pop bows out right about the same time I do. His little pile of rubble is nearly as pitiful as mine.
Wyatt and Mimi have the most traditional looking houses, by far, but it’s totally not fair because they’ve done this before. Beau’s roof is lopsided, and it looks like Lucy decorated the damn thing; but I truly have no room to talk. Mine appears to have been hit with a wrecking ball. Kate’s house isn’t too bad…I guess.
Okay, fine. It’s adorable as fuck.
If there was an originality award, it’d definitely go to my daughter. She’s iced the entire thing in black and added nothing but white gumdrops and candy pearls, and a few randomly placed stalks of black licorice. She’s nothing if not consistent.
When my parents arrive, I let them in to wait in the kitchen, since they aren’t allowed to see who’s building which house.
“Time!” I hear Mr. Charles shout.
In the next second they’re all packed into the kitchen, wishing my parents a Merry Christmas. Momma and Daddy seem to hit it off really well with Charles and Melinda. This thrills me to no end. They don’t get the chance to socialize much, so I’m feeling extra emotional and taking care to commit every moment of this special night to memory.
“All right,” Daddy’s deep voice booms through the tiny kitchen. “Let’s have a look at these houses.”
Like a herd of cattle, the crowd moves to the living room.
“I’m gonna murder that stupid mutt,” Kate shouts, pacing along the table