Page 25 of Second Chance Christmas

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ivy flung open the door and froze in her stockings. Boots. She needed boots. She half skidded, half slid across the polished wood and shoved her feet back into her rain boots. Instead of going through the house, she made a mad dash through the front door and came to a stop at the gate that somehow unlatched. The wind? She knew she hadn’t even touched it.

The entire backyard looked like Santa’s village threw up all over it. Hundreds of strands of lights hung from the eaves, branches and holly bushes. With the white expanse of the frozen lake in the backdrop, the fantasy of winter wonderland stretched beyond the banks.

Up until she had left Dixen, Ivy had loved to take to the ice and practice her toe loops and pretend she was a princess on ice.

Several mature pines lined the property and served as a buffer from the cold winds coming up off the lake. Fat bulbs just waiting to light up the night with their white light hung from their bows. Holly shrubs hugged the house with their lush, green leaves and fire red berries sticking out from beneath the blanket of snow.

Fairy lights spread over their compact branches like a swath of stars ready to shine brightly at a moment’s notice. Ribbons of more lights twined around the bases of the pine trees and yet more poinsettias rimmed their bases to add the final touch of Christmas magic everyone could count on from the Winters. It was what brought people back year after year.

To her, it made the acid in her stomach bubble with more vigor.

She had to admit, at any other time, with all the snow it would look beyond magical and just how she remembered.

She took it all in over the span of three seconds before she bounded through the gate. Icy chunks of white fluff spilled over the rims of her rain boots and squeaked with each wide step she took.

She was too late. Rocco trotted across the pristine snow without a care and headed straight for her. “Rocco. You stop right there, little lady.” A streak of gray-brown fur ducked under a low branch weighed down with snow, causing a curtain of the snow to fall over her just as she caught up with the mischievous reindeer. He busted through one gate and made it through the other side, snagging each strand of lights as he went. Even managing the tiny star lights on the holly bush. Oh, he was in so much trouble. At war with herself, she couldn’t decide if she was happy the lights were gone because they threatened to bring back a spark of holiday spirit or mad that she would have to replace them.

She did a mental check. Nope. She only liked them from an interior decorator’s standpoint.

Her breath came in short bursts of panic-laced hot air.

Wow, she had no idea reindeer could move so fast. “You did that on purpose,” she accused the over-sized deer. She took a second to rub her hands together and blow on them to chase a little of the coldness away, but it was futile.

“Now look at what you’ve done!”

She approached the reindeer slowly so as not to spook her into making a second lunge for the lights she missed.

“Don’t even think about it. Your antlers are like weapons of mass destruction and I’m not into hanging Christmas lights or any other kind of decorations.”

She remembered how Aspen had shown her to reach out and touch the snout first. “That’s it, easy does it.” Almost every strand of Christmas lights Gran carefully and artfully placed now draped from or trailed behind the big goof.

She tugged her scarf and coat a little tighter as fat clumps of snow dropped on her from the pine tree. When she got beside her, Rocco nudged her and poked her snout into the large opening of her coat. “Hungry, are we?”

She plucked a cookie out and held up the green-glazed treat. “I hope you don’t mind the reindeer shape. No offense, you know. Plus I won’t tell any of your reindeer friends you ate a deer-shaped cookie.” She handed her another and tried to make fast work of reclaiming the Christmas lights but her frozen digits didn’t make the job easy or fast.

“You have a lot of nerve coming here like you own the place. What were you thinking?” She snapped her fingers, growing numb by the second. “Santa kicked you out of his workshop, didn’t he? Deposited you here in Dixen to keep everyone on their toes. Or maybe you don’t like Christmas this year, either? I’m absolutely flattered for all your attention, but can we keep this to a one-time-only kind of thing?” Ivy continued as she untangled star-shaped lights from little plastic pine trees wrapped around both antlers.

Finally done, and not a moment too soon from the coloring of her fingers, Ivy wadded up her tangled loot and deposited it on the top step of the porch as she kicked off her dripping rain boots and peeled off her wet socks. Next stop, the dumpster on the way to town.

Inside, she set to work on a fire and pulled a blanket from the back of one of the couches to wrap around her feet while the heat filtered through the house. Feeling her fingers and toes was a priority. Then food.

The power came back on sometime while she was out chasing the reindeer but it would take too long for the heat to fill the home.

Ivy stuffed her hands under her arms and huddled close to the fire for a few more minutes until she was sure the threat of possible frostbite faded.

With all the adrenaline and chaos, her stomach spoke up over the lack of her attention. Cookies didn’t count. And wasn’t that a shame.

Ivy tossed aside her blanket and found a clean pair of socks in her gran’s bedroom. Moderately warm again, she made her way back to the kitchen. Ivy plucked the last remaining cookies and bit into it as she considered her options.

She dusted off the crumbs as her gaze roved over the kitchen and the buckets of paint on the table all waiting for her. This would never work. Three days, eight rooms needing some kind of attention, cooking…Christmas trees. And now she had to re-do the lights.

She dragged herself over to the fridge. The usual condiments lined the door, some leftover chicken casserole, drumsticks in the freezer, and wine. Wine sounded good right now. She tapped the side of the door, giving it some real consideration. Did it count as dinner if no one witnessed?

She bypassed the wine glass and took out a coffee mug instead. It was tempting. Real tempting, but she had never been one to back down from a challenge.

Yet.

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