Page 8 of A Not So Merry Rescue
My phone vibrates in my hand, eliciting a rise in me. I’d all but forgotten I texted my sister.
For once in our life, I can’t tell if you’re joking. Guess I’ll find out when I call you.
In case I don’t answer, I love you. You’re the best sister I could ever ask for.
Tell the boys I love them.
and Mom and Dad too. Hope this won’t ruin anyone’s Christmas
I reallyhope you’re kidding.
. . .
“Everything okay over there?” Beckett’s rasp hits me like an arrow, square in the chest. This strange yet kind man who’s letting me stay at his place.
Who does that? Is this typical of all Winterberry Junction residents? Or did I come across a nice one?
“Uh, ye-yeah. Yep. All good. Ready for your house.” I’m lying through my teeth. I’m in no way ready for his house.
“Prepare yourself. It’s less of a house and more like a cabin.”
“No problem. A cabin, condo, apartment. If it has four walls, a roof, a bed, heat, and some running water, I’m good. Better than sleeping in my car.”
He grunts. “That was never happening.”
“Well, I appreciate it. Thank you for coming to my rescue. With the car and the place to stay.”
I should say more, but if I continue, I’ll probably ramble, giving up my secrets he’s not privy to. Some secrets are best kept hidden.
The rest of the drive to the auto body shop is quiet, save for the wind outside. The snow continues to fall, harder now, like streaks of white dropping from the sky. I’m relieved I don’t have to drive in it. I wouldn’t have minded if it had stormed after I got to the cabin because I wasn’t planning on leaving there for a week. But this hiccup isn’t pleasant.
As we creep closer to what I assume is the center of Winterberry, white streetlamps illuminate the snow. Upon closer inspection, the poles are adorned with green garland. And not just a few of them.
All of them.
Up ahead a little way appear more lights. Even with the snow, it’s like it’s lit up with the power of a million watts. I wish I were exaggerating.
“What the heck . . .” I trail off, bewitched as Beckett makes the turn onto a street I can only describe as Christmas vomit.
Colored lights galore.
Every building covered in strings of different colors.
Both sides of the street distastefully decorated with bright lights.
My stomach lurches, and I close my eyes, squeezing them shut to prevent being blinded by the lights.
And not like in the song.
Oh, no. This is so much worse.
Despite my closed lids, light beams into my eyes. Like it has nowhere to go, nothing to do but shine, and my eyelids can’t keep it out.
“Make it stop,” I groan. “Why so fucking bright?”
From my left, Beckett chuckles. “Is this not what your town does for the holiday?”
“No. Not like this. And I thought Havenwood was over the top. There’s a Main Street display, which I avoid at all costs.” I shove my palms into my eyes, blocking the audacious beaming attempting to render me sightless. “Why? Why?Why?” I stress the last repeated word. I can’t understand why any of this is necessary.
