Page 26 of The More the Merrier

He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and took a bite, and I paused eating to look up at him. He wore a pair of pressed charcoal slacks, a light gray dress shirt, a navy blue tie, and his favorite wool trench coat. It seemed a little dressy for an afternoon of Christmas shopping on the strip, but that was Logan for you. Probably wanted to look good in case he ran into an old client, or met a new one.

"You kids have fun. I'll be home in time to make the latkes." He kissed us both and then he was gone.

After he left I stared at the door, then at Noelle. "That's weird."

"What's weird, Daddy?"

"He didn't ask us what we wanted." Logan was balls at shopping and usually requested an in-depth detailed list complete with pictures and product links. "Don't you think that's weird?"

She shrugged and lifted the cereal bowl with both hands, slurping the last of the now-flavored milk. "Not really. He mentioned something about getting creative."

She said that as if it were of no real consequence, but to me it was just another mystery. Logan was a lot of things, but creative wasn't on that list.

Noelle skipped to the sink and loaded the dishes into the dishwasher before skipping back and taking my hand. "Don't worry about Logan being weird, Daddy. We have too many things to do.”

Those things ended up being a Christmas cartoon marathon, a hot dog lunch, and of course the threatened tree dance, and that was all before noon.

When we were done doing a silly, made up jig around the Christmas tree, she turned on the radio at full blast and led me into the kitchen.

"We really don't need more cookies, little one."

"So we won't make cookies. We'll make bread. Or muffins. Or fruitcake—no, we don't have the stuff for that. Ooh, Christmas candy!"

"Christmas candy, New Years diet," I mumbled, quoting something I often heard my mother say. Banishing her from my brain, I smiled indulgently. "Christmas candy it is!"

With Christmas carols blasting, just as she'd wanted, we wasted the afternoon away in the kitchen. We made toffee, divinity, peanut brittle, and even some old-fashioned potato candy. We were setting the last tray of fudge to set when the doorbell rang. Noelle and I stopped in our tracks and looked at each other.

"Who could that be?" she asked.

"I'll go see." I eyeballed her up and down. "You might want to go get dressed."

"It's not like whoever they are is coming in. It's probably just a neighbor dropping off some Christmas goodies."

She said that like it was a regular occurrence, when in truth, it'd never happened, but I didn't bother arguing. I just strode over to the door and looked through the peephole. What I saw made my blood run cold.

"Go get dressed, now!" I hissed at Noelle.

"Why? Who is it?" She stopped in the middle of sneaking a piece of candy, holding it halfway to her lips.

"Just hurry and put some clothes on!"

She took one look at my face and ran, returning two minutes later wearing a sweater and still working her way into a pair of leggings. "You can't do that, you know," she admonished. "Tell me to hurry and get clothes on and not tell me who it is."

I shook my head, and her face went white.

"Oh my god. Is it the police? Do you think something happened to Logan?"

"It's not the police," I whispered, wrapping my hand around the doorknob as I readied myself for the shit storm that was about to commence. "It's worse."

"Worse?" Noelle parroted. "What could be worse than the police?"

"It's our parents," I said, a millisecond before I flung open the door.

Chapter 10

Logan

COME HOME NOW.

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