Page 81 of Sleigh Bells and Snowstorms
Happy Holidays! Seasons Greetings! Merry Christmas!
What was so merry about it, anyway?
And why had Nina veered in the direction of the shops instead of going straight to the tree lot?
Christmas Village was cute, I could admit that. It was like walking through the North Pole in a Christmas movie. Lights, wreaths, candy canes, elves peeking out from behind trees. Shops made to look like gingerbread houses. And an endless supply of ornaments, decorations, and every kind of sugary treat imaginable.
But we could barely afford a tree. Why tempt ourselves—and Annabel—with all the glitter and sparkle and cinnamon and sugar?
“Isn’t this cute?” Nina asked, holding up a red-and-white candy cane ornament.
I gave it a half-hearted glance and shrugged. “Sure.”
“What’s wrong? You look mad. Are you hungry? When was the last time you ate?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Are you sure? You and I both get hangry, and it’s not pretty. Let’s go get a snack.”
Leaning closer, I lowered my voice to a whisper. “With what money? In case you forgot, I’m out of work, and my car is totaled.”
“You have insurance.”
“But I don’t know what it will actually cover. And did you forget the giant fans in the basement? And the fact that our furnace might die at any moment?”
“Wow.” She hung the ornament back on the tree. “Someone needs a little more Christmas spirit.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need Christmas anything. I need to go back to work.”
“I know things are tough, but why are you stressing about it right now? At this moment, there’s nothing you can do.” She glanced around the displays. “Annabel, careful with that.”
She was right. I didn’t need to be grumpy about our financial situation when I could be enjoying an afternoon with my family.
But it wasn’t our financial situation that was bothering me. Not really.
The fact that Jensen had declined my very casual invitation to join us should not have hurt my feelings. We weren’t dating. He wasn’t my boyfriend. A night of mind-blowing sex did not mean we suddenly had to do everything together.
It was probably better that he’d stayed behind. Not just because he was obviously busy with something more important. Because my heart was as tangled as a bundle of Christmas tree lights.
His “no” had hurt. And it shouldn’t have.
We left the shop and moved on down the path. A few snowflakes drifted down, enough to catch the glimmer of Christmas lights and sparkle in the air. “Sleigh Ride” played in the background, and people wandered, shopped, sipped hot cocoa, and feasted on sugar cookies and gingerbread.
“Where to next?” Nina asked.
“Let’s go see Horace!” Annabel exclaimed
“Again? We saw Horace last time we were here. Don’t you want to go look at trees?”
“Horace first. Please?”
Nina smiled at her. “Since you asked so nicely.”
They walked ahead, hand in hand, and I followed at a slow shuffle. As much as I didn’t want to subject Nina and Annabel to my sour mood, I couldn’t quite muster the enthusiasm to keep up with them.
One of Christmas Village’s main attractions was its reindeer farm. As fascinating—and festive—as the animals were, Annabel had always loved Horace, the guard donkey.
We found him in the large enclosure. Dark brown with a white muzzle, he had big black eyes and, like all donkeys, large teeth. I stayed back from the fence while Nina and Annabel approached.
