Page 7 of Packed for the Holidays

“Um, it’s just…” I scramble to find a reason for my demand. “Shouldn’t we listen to some Christmas music to get in the mood?”

“Sure.” Dante pauses Satan’s Panties and scrolls through his phone to find something else.

“None of your low-key depressing Christmas shit,” McQuinn says. “We need to psyche ourselves up.”

I’m plenty worked up and wouldn’t mind one of Dante’s mellow, bluesy playlists. But I keep my mouthshut.

“Maybe we should talk about what to get Meggie,” Ellis says as Dante settles on a playlist Nils made last Christmas. It’s upbeat, but traditional. The kind of songs you hear over the sound system at the mall this time of year.

“Good idea,” Harrison agrees.

We decided we’d add our own little gifts to Meggie’s stocking, but go in on one big gift for her together.

“It needs to be something she actually wants,” Nils says.

“Or something we want,” McQuinn waggles his eyebrows.

“We’re not getting her lingerie,” Harrison says, shutting down McQuinn’s idea before he’s even made it.

“I have an idea,” Ellis says from the back. “But I don’t think the old man will like it.”

“Try me.” Harrison stops at a red light and glances back at him.

“Well, Meggie said she always wanted a pet when she was growing up, but—”

“We should get a cat,” McQuinn interrupts.

“A cat?” Nils scrunches his eyebrows.

“I’ve always wanted a turtle,” Dante says.

“A turtle?” McQuinn snorts out a laugh.

“Well, actually,” Ellis tries to continue, “Meggie wanted–”

“We should get a snake,” I chime in.

“We’re not getting a snake.” Harrison scowls. The light turns green, and he makes a left turn toward the mall.

Ellis lets out an annoyed sigh. “Meggie wa–”

“If we’re gonna get her a pet, it should be something as unique as she is,” Dante says. Romantic shithead.

“But I want a cat,” McQuinn says. “Everyone loves cats.”

“Everyone does not love cats.” Nils glares.

“Show of hands, who doesn’t like cats,” McQuinn says.

I’m the first to raise my hand, but not the last. McQuinn scowls at all five raised hands.

“How about a dog?” I ask.

“Meggie wanted a chinchilla!” Ellis blurts out before he can get interrupted again.

“What the hell is a chinchilla?” Harrison asks as he pulls into the mall parking lot.

“They’re kinda like hamsters,” Ellis explains. “Or tiny bunnies?”

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