Page 16 of The Art of Being Merry
Thanks
“I have to check on something for Dax,” I tell Willa, who raises a brow. “I can’t not do him this favor when he’s at home with my kids and I’m here shopping with you.”
“Depends on the favor, I suppose,” she retorts, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I’ll be in the men’s clothing department.” My face flushes, but I don’t let it deter me from escaping to the back of the store.
I locate the stash of ugly sweaters, sorting through them to find the ugliest one. They’re all hideous and stupid and mass-produced. Wonder what he needs it for.
Snapping a few pictures, I send them off and wait for his response.
That’s all?
Unfortunately
Should I ask him what he needs it for? Is that too intrusive? Though he opened the door . . .
What’s it for?
the Nicholas family Ugly Sweater contest. I need to win this year. Can’t let Beck outdo me two years in a row
None of these are going to win
Oops.
No kidding. I need to wow the judges. I need pizazz. I need unique
Does it have to be store-bought
Nope. It only has to be ugly. Well, I suppose ugly is subjective, but the uglier ups the chances of winning. I haven’t won in a while
I can’t help my brain thinks in images. Apparently,uglyChristmas sweater images.
Can you hire out the job
Ain’t no one got time to make what I’d need in time for Christmas. Unless I want to pay up the wazoo. The trophy isn’t worth it
But if you could find someone who could do it for cheap, it would be allowed?
I’d have to consult the rule book, but I think so
When do you need it by?
I’m guessing soon-ish if it’s a Christmas thing. If I shift some things around, it shouldn’t take that long to make. Long as I can get what I need in time.
Instead of answering with a text, my phone vibrates in my hand, Dax’s name displayed. My first worry is something’s wrong with the boys.
“What happened?” I answer as an opening.
“Nothing. They’re fine.”
A whoosh of breath releases. “Figured you’d only be calling for an emergency.”
“Boys, tell your mom we’re all fine.” There’s some rustling over the line.
“We’re good,” Atlas calls out in the background.
“Real good,” Jace adds.
