Page 37 of Mistletoe Latte

“Are you here to ruin it?” Skylar shouted back, causing him to frown.

He raised the lights. “Here. They should work now.” The bell jangled and Nick tossed the fixed lights into Skylar’s surprised arms. “Finish up without making a mess.”

“Aye aye, Captain Salty.”

“I was a jarhead, not a SEAL,” Nick said to his niece before he slipped behind the counter.

It took a few restarts for Emma and Skylar to untangle the lights then drape them across the branches. Tiny bulbs of white, red, and green twinkled off the tree illuminating the entire corner. They had to push the tree right up to the window to get them plugged in, which made adding the garland a challenge.

Emma weaved under Skylar, then Skylar would throw the tinsel back. Both of them stepped back to admire their work. Lights clumped at the bottom where they thought they’d have lots to work with, then grew sparse at the top. The garland didn’t so much hang off the branches as twist around them like a ball of yarn tossed at the tree. It wasn’t perfect by any stretch, but it was pretty.

“It needs something,” Skylar said.

“What else was in the box?” Emma tipped it closer with her finger, and a stack of construction paper plummeted out. At the top were paper snowflakes cut from every color of the rainbow. She began to set them out one by one when she revealed a picture at the top of the stack.

It was a crayon drawing of a tall skinny man in a red coat with twelve giant fingers. A smaller person, probably a child, with pigtails stood beside a tree made out of a kid’s handprint. Emma lifted the drawing to put it to the side when a hand caught it.

Nick spun it around and a smile rose. “Hey Skylar, look at this.”

The girl’s face turned red, and she jerked away to stare at the wall.

“It’s the picture you drew for me. Remember?”

“What are you talking about? That isn’t mine.” She tried to swipe it away, but Nick dodged.

“Sure it is. Got your artist signature right there. I like the scarecrow in the back myself.”

“That’s a reindeer,” Skylar muttered before she yanked the paper out of his hands.

“That’s fine,” he said, shaking around the box and revealing even more child’s drawings on the bottom. “There’s a butt load of your stuff in here.”

Besides the drawings of Santa and his elves, a bundle of grade school crafts rolled out. Emma picked up red and green construction paper chains and held them out. “This will look great on the tree.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Skylar scoffed, before looking over at the branches, then down at her old creations. “Would it?”

“It isn’t Christmas without them. What do you think?” Emma glanced away from the tree to Nick. She expected him to still be smugly grinning at finding a way to cut down the teenager. But he wore a doleful smile as he stared at a more detailed drawing of a man in red and green plaid holding a coffee mug the size of his head. The drawing was dated to five years ago.

He carefully folded the picture up and stuck it in his back pocket. “You know what, it’s not a proper tree trimming without cocoa.”

“We’re doing this properly?” Skylar asked in confusion as Nick slipped back to the counter to heat a pan of milk. “Hang on.” She tossed the construction garland at the tree, then dashed to the back room. In a few seconds, music rose over the speakers, Sinatra crooning about a White Christmas.

“Now it’s proper,” Skylar declared.

As the classic songs of Christmas filled the air, Emma dressed the tree in the cute, often lopsided, poorly glued, and googly-eyed crafts that Skylar handed her. They covered the tree in almost no time and started to branch out to the rest of the cafe. Garlands and popsicle stick stars were perfect to hang off the windows and the door. When Nick handed out the mugs of cocoa, he caught what they were doing.

Emma paused, worried he’d ask them to stop schmaltzing up his place. But he snickered once, ripped off a long piece of tape, and stuck Skylar’s Santa and scarecrow drawing dead center to the middle of the door. Everyone who walked into the cafe couldn’t miss it.

“Nick!” Skylar shouted and hurled the tape at his head.

He ducked and laughed as she tossed a balled-up napkin. “Your adoring public can finally see your masterpiece.”

“That’s not funny!” she called, giving chase.

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because I hate you,” Skylar cried back even as she kept giggling. She picked up a wad of sugar packets and reached back to hurl them. The only remaining customer stood up, stopping both niece and uncle. He gathered his things slowly, giving the stink eye to them.

Skylar shoved the wadded-up packets back into their holder while Nick busied himself at the counter. Just as the man walked past the tip jar, the soothing rat pack Christmas music pivoted. High-pitched squeals demanding a hula hoop reverberated through the cafe. Skylar burst into laughter and tossed another napkin. The customer pulled his coat closed one-handed and stomped out, not that any of them cared.

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