Page 63 of Miss Humbug
But Ethan came anyway, despite me pushing him away.
“All of this is meaningless if Grans is choosing who inherits,” I said. “She isforcingus to carol.”
“Think of this as the meta game. If we bounce now, it will count against us. Your brothers are here. Rafe and Riley are here. They’re all here. If the competition was truly over, they’d be out at Everett’s for the buffet.”
“Who is Everett?”
“Everett’s Dining—the restaurant on the east end of town? They do a big buffet the Saturday before Christmas.”
I studied Ethan. This was the man I’d declared love to. He knew the town buffet schedule.
He smiled easily. “Their prime rib is no joke.”
A red and green striped scarf wrapped around Ethan’s neck and tucked into his hooded sweatshirt. Over top, the work coat he wore at the tree farm. “You’re going to boil in all those layers.”
“I’m prepared in case a lady catches a chill.” He pulled me to him for a gentle kiss.
I lost myself in the moment, but the moment was momentary.
Grans entered the square flanked by her judges. In my head, a hard-hitting techno beat played as they approached in slow motion. Wool coats, plaid scarves, and gray hairs. This was a troupe with a menacing need to vocalize holiday merriment.
Cara eyed the judges, all present except TL. “I thought the competition ended.”
“These are myfriends.” Grans wore a glittery holly pin at her lapel that I wouldn’t doubt hid a poison dart. “We’re focused on the event tonight. Here are the song sheets.” She handed out packets stapled together.
More prospective carolers gathered, given this was another Holly Days organized event. I couldn’t help notice murmurs and stares our direction. Several clusters of people gave us a wide berth.
The coordinator sorted us into groups and passed out more song sheets. We were provided with a printed map of a designated section of town where we were expected to belt out holiday tunes.
My fury grew legs. “This is like a coordinated sonar attack.” I waved the map at Ethan. “This, a battle plan. How can you not see how forceful this is?”
“I like Christmas caroling. I do this every year.”
Since we were dating now, and he was my boyfriend, was this my future? Singing songs at people against their will?
Ethan nudged me with his elbow, obviously filing my reaction in the Over category. But as we marched with our group to a residential block couched within the downtown, a realization solidified.
This would be my life if I moved back. Ethan loved holidays. The whole holiday machine involved him and his Christmas tree farm. By default, being together, I would become part of the holiday machine.
The group began the first song from the packet. Each note stabbed my skin, each line grated at my nerves.I hated this.
Yes. I hated singing holiday songs on the street like we were bestowing some kind of gift. This was not like middle school chorus and our performance at the mall. The mallinvitedus. These people were just trying to eat their dinner and watchJeopardy!
We walked the block, cut over to another street, and continued caroling. A husky baritone sporadically showed off vocal runs as if auditioning forThe Voice. Little kids in the group skipped ahead and waved at the gullible suckers who flipped on their porch lights and gathered at front windows. The fiction collections supervisor from the library filmed it all with her phone. Great holiday content, if you were into that sort of thing.
Which I wasn’t. I could barely stand pretending.
Right with them, Ethan sang along, never once questioning why I didn’t join in.
I would never be the jolly Christmas fan he deserved. I honestly never wanted to go street caroling again in my life. The bake sale I didn’t mind as much, but none of it was my jam. The Holly Games were meant to be a one-time event for me.
The storm cloud over my head hung thick all the way to town square after we cleared our route. Because the singing hadn’t stopped. No, our group kept on singing. This was the pits, but I’d done it. Check it off the box.
Hot chocolate waited for us in the square. Too eager to taste it, the scorching liquid burned a patch on my tongue.
Bah Humbug indeed.
Ethan wandered off to chat with the librarian from our group, leaving me to sulk privately.
