I’m not going to do that. I’ll use the front door. The window would be much more likely to cause a draft and wake him up. Besides, it’d be really dramatic to use the window when the door is both available and more logical.
I’ve dressed and he hasn’t stirred an inch. I tripped over the Santa costume on my way to brush my teeth but I managed to catch myself, the only casualty a stubbed toe and a lot of silent swearing.
Still asleep.
Hmph.
It’d be annoying if it wasn’t convenient because clearly I’m meant to let him sleep. We all see that, right? It’s the polite thing to do. Pretty sure an advice columnist would advise to let your guest sleep in.
I can’t imagine they’d advise anyone to let their guest sleep in while they made a run for it, but you can’t win them all.
Chapter 7
“I’m in love.”
Good sweet Lord, this is going to be a long morning. This declaration comes from my sister Ginger, twirling in an actual circle as she says it.
“With who?” I ask, mostly to be contrary because that’s my job as her sister. We’ve already gotten coffees to go and now we’re walking along Main Street doing some last-minute Christmas shopping. I know damn well who she’s talking about, but she’s been denying anything is going on between them so I’m not inclined to make this easy for her.
“With who?” Ginger repeats back, and I don’t mistake the sarcasm in her tone. “With Keller. Who else would I be referring to? Did you think I picked up some random guy last night and fell in love? Honestly.” Yup. Full sarcasm.
“Keller?” I’m gonna draw this out just to mess with her. Also because she referred to picking up a random guy like it’s a bad thing. Granted, she doesn’t know that I just did exactly that, but still. It grates. “The guy you’ve been referring to as a jackal since you met him last week? The guy you’re competing against for ten thousand dollars of prize money? The guy leaving Reindeer Falls as soon as The Great Gingerbread Bake-Off is done filming? That Keller?”
She openly glares at me now.
“Yes. Him!” She scowls at me and I know she’s desperately trying to come up with some kind of modified swear word to call me because she hates to swear. I wait patiently, hoping it’ll be a good one. When she was little and Holly or I did something particularly awful to her she’d yell, “Fishsticks!” while stomping her little foot. We could never keep a straight face and she’d end up getting whatever she wanted.
“He’s going to stay for a while,” she finally adds after a long exhale. I’m actively disappointed she didn’t tell me to elf off.
“What does that mean?” We pause in front of the yarn store so I can stare her down and get the full story. I’ll toss some sisterly skepticism her way, but the thing is I’ve seen her with Keller and the guy is totally crazy about her. Only Ginger could get someone to fall in love with her in a week and if I didn’t love her I’d be really, really annoyed by her.
“He said to trust the magic,” she says, nearly doing another twirl right there on the pavement. If she were a Disney cartoon a couple of birds would appear overhead carrying little hearts made out of cranberries or some nonsense. As it is a squirrel runs past and I swear to Santa Claus he makes eye contact with her before running up a tree.
Ginger, for her part, immediately realizes her mistake and turns redder than reasonable for the temperature outside. Then she takes an inexplicably large interest in the shop window. Inexplicable because Ginger can’t knit. She can’t crochet either. The yarn crafts have always eluded her.
“The magic?” I deadpan in response, pretending to be more shocked than I am. When we were kids she tried to convince Holly and me that she had invented a magical love globe. We’ve been giving her shit about it ever since.
“Not real magic, Noel,” Ginger snaps, her chin tilted up in defiance. “Don’t be such a cynic. He just meant holiday magic.” Then she twirls off to the next storefront.
Holiday magic. Hmph. I wonder if I can blame holiday magic for my one-night stand. The one-night stand I left in my house. By himself. Who does that? Seriously, I’m such an asshole.
“I can’t deal with you right now, Ginger. I