Page 59 of My Secret Snowflake
“Honestly,” I say. “I work with him, and I’m worried about him. How would I know his name?”
“Nice try. Wasn’t it on the package?” The neighbor has both hands on his hips and is glaring at us. “Get off the porch and scram. I won’t report you this time because it’s the holidays, but don’t come back. We look out for our own.”
The three of us scramble off the porch and scoot past the reindeer.
“Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t think we’d be facing arrest by checking out Raphael’s house.” We turn to walk down the sidewalk away from Raphael’s house. The guy stands behind us, hands on his hips.
“Still, I think that confirms he left with his mom. Otherwise, the neighbor wouldn’t have felt so protective of the house,” Maddie says.
“I need to talk to him,” I say.
“Me too,” Sebastian says. “Maybe he’ll send you more clues, though.”
“Keep calling him. He might relent and pick up,” Maddie says. “I always keep phoning, even if someone doesn’t want to talk to me. At some point, they get so annoyed, they answer the phone.”
Annoying Raphael is not exactly my goal.
“Speaking of annoying, how are things with your neighbor?” I ask. I explain to Sebastian that Maddie lives next door to an up-and-coming rock star, and their adjoining walls are paper thin.
“He’s had some hits on YouTube, but he assured me he won’t move out because he’s reinvesting everything back into the business,” Maddie says.
“Assured?” I ask.
“That was definitely his tone,” Maddie says. “I told him I hope his investments include soundproofing.”
“Rock stars.” I shake my head. “We could look for a place together once I know what’s happening with work.”
Maddie makes a noncommittal noise. She says she’s not interested in Nick, but I worry that she does like him and he’s going to break her heart.
“I’ve never been here,” Sebastian says. “Should we at least take a walk around? Maybe we can get some ideas for how to decorate the gym for the high school holiday party.”
Maddie winks at me. “Yes, we definitely should.”
We walk up 84thStreet. Ahead of us, a tourist group speaking in Italian follows a man with a yellow umbrella. I glance back, and I swear someone slips behind a tree. Raphael? Not thin enough.
Koi fish imagery plays over the façade of the first house on 13thAvenue, slipping in and out of brightly colored light strands hung to look like seaweed, giving the impression the fish are playing hide-and-seek. A crowd stands in front of it taking pictures. It is amazing—the whole house is glowing. Sebastian and I share a glance of appreciation.
“Those are the Chinese characters for ‘good luck,’” Maddie says.
“We definitely need that,” I say.
The next house has a ten-foot Santa Claus statue waving hello from the front porch, and red and white lights cover the trees and the roof. Across the street is a wooden three-story house decorated in red and gold.
I turn around quickly and catch the neighbor behind us.
“Is the neighbor trailing us?” Maddie asks. “Does he think we’re casing the area?”
The neighbor points two fingers at his eyes and then at us. Repeatedly.
Is he a crazy person?
“Maybe we should leave,” I say.
“Let him follow us,” Sebastian says. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“And it took us an hour to get here,” Maddie says. “We should see the decorations.”
“This is Lucy Spato’s house,” a tour guide tells his group.
