around our legs.
I hung the dress in the hall closet so it wouldn’t wrinkle. Daisy and Mochie followed me into the kitchen where Mochie head-butted me, prompting me to give him a few dried salmon kitty treats. Daisy waited patiently. She sat next to the counter where I kept the dog cookie jar and raised her paw without my asking. I shook it and handed her a large carrot and bacon cookie in the shape of a dog bone.
They raced up the stairs with me when I carried the new dress upstairs to my walk-in closet.
At four o’clock I donned a red and white Christmas sweater my mother had knitted. White on the shoulders and red in the body, she had sewn on iridescent white beads that made it perfect for the holidays. With a pair of winter white slacks, I thought I looked festive but not overdressed for a holiday cookie swap party. A pair of silver earrings were all the jewelry I needed.
The
tack
,
tack
,
tack
of Mars’s staple gun hammered outside my window. I didn’t mind leaving that annoying sound. Poor Daisy would have to stay inside with Mochie and listen to Mars work on the roof. Daisy and Mochie followed me downstairs.
I took the bags packed with cookies, along with the throw I had washed for Baxter, apologized to Daisy and Mochie for leaving them in the house with that racket going on overhead, and hustled out the door. Light snowflakes blew, and I debated wearing a coat. Gwen’s house wasn’t far, though.
The same
tack
,
tack
,
tack
resounded across the street at Liza’s house. Luis appeared to be setting up a rooftop nativity scene.
I shivered in the cold wind, crossed the street, and looked back at my house.
Mars had deviated from his plan considerably. A plump Santa Claus had one leg in my chimney. Bernie clambered around, apparently fastening a sleigh on the roof. I hoped they would be okay. It was a long way down.
I hurried toward Gwen’s house, relieved to see that no one pounded on her roof. It was bad enough that the sound of staple guns reverberated through the neighborhood. Gwen’s front door bore an oversized wreath of greens covered with shiny pink and orange balls. A wide orange bow bordered with gold dominated the top. I rang the bell, and Gwen opened the door as if she had been waiting on the other side.
“Sophie!” She leaned toward me and kissed the air over each of my shoulders.
It took me exactly one second to realize that she had a pink and orange Christmas theme going. She wore an orange Christmas sweater that looked to be hand-knitted. A vivid pink border ran along the V-neck and the sleeves. A row of lime green Christmas trees lined the bottom and matched the color of her leggings. She twirled around. “I made it myself.”
“It’s lovely.” Behind her, though, I couldn’t take my eyes off something I had never seen before—an orange Christmas tree in her living room.
She followed my gaze. “Isn’t the tree incredible? It’s flocked!”
“Amazing,” I murmured, handing her the throw Baxter gave me to sit on in his car. “Baxter lent this to me. Where do I put my cookies?”
“Natasha is coming up the walk. The cookies go in the dining room, dear.”
So Mars had finally guilted Natasha into attending the cookie swap after all.
I had to give Gwen credit for one thing. Orange and pink were certainly festive. She had used a long orange tablecloth with a pink topper and tied it in swags with lime green bows. Except for the incredible silver sleigh centerpiece loaded with pink and orange ornaments, it could easily have been set up for a birthday party or a bridal shower.
Liza stood next to the table, arranging her cookies. “Do you believe this sled? Gwen says it’s sterling.”
“It probably is. I saw it in a store just yesterday. It’s gorgeous. Look at the detail. The bell on the front, the ornate scrolls on the sleigh. The reindeer are unbelievable.”
“They must have some kind of money,” she whispered. “There are matching deer-head candlesticks on the
I hung the dress in the hall closet so it wouldn’t wrinkle. Daisy and Mochie followed me into the kitchen where Mochie head-butted me, prompting me to give him a few dried salmon kitty treats. Daisy waited patiently. She sat next to the counter where I kept the dog cookie jar and raised her paw without my asking. I shook it and handed her a large carrot and bacon cookie in the shape of a dog bone.
They raced up the stairs with me when I carried the new dress upstairs to my walk-in closet.
At four o’clock I donned a red and white Christmas sweater my mother had knitted. White on the shoulders and red in the body, she had sewn on iridescent white beads that made it perfect for the holidays. With a pair of winter white slacks, I thought I looked festive but not overdressed for a holiday cookie swap party. A pair of silver earrings were all the jewelry I needed.
The
tack
,
tack
,
tack
of Mars’s staple gun hammered outside my window. I didn’t mind leaving that annoying sound. Poor Daisy would have to stay inside with Mochie and listen to Mars work on the roof. Daisy and Mochie followed me downstairs.
I took the bags packed with cookies, along with the throw I had washed for Baxter, apologized to Daisy and Mochie for leaving them in the house with that racket going on overhead, and hustled out the door. Light snowflakes blew, and I debated wearing a coat. Gwen’s house wasn’t far, though.
The same
tack
,
tack
,
tack
resounded across the street at Liza’s house. Luis appeared to be setting up a rooftop nativity scene.
I shivered in the cold wind, crossed the street, and looked back at my house.
Mars had deviated from his plan considerably. A plump Santa Claus had one leg in my chimney. Bernie clambered around, apparently fastening a sleigh on the roof. I hoped they would be okay. It was a long way down.
I hurried toward Gwen’s house, relieved to see that no one pounded on her roof. It was bad enough that the sound of staple guns reverberated through the neighborhood. Gwen’s front door bore an oversized wreath of greens covered with shiny pink and orange balls. A wide orange bow bordered with gold dominated the top. I rang the bell, and Gwen opened the door as if she had been waiting on the other side.
“Sophie!” She leaned toward me and kissed the air over each of my shoulders.
It took me exactly one second to realize that she had a pink and orange Christmas theme going. She wore an orange Christmas sweater that looked to be hand-knitted. A vivid pink border ran along the V-neck and the sleeves. A row of lime green Christmas trees lined the bottom and matched the color of her leggings. She twirled around. “I made it myself.”
“It’s lovely.” Behind her, though, I couldn’t take my eyes off something I had never seen before—an orange Christmas tree in her living room.
She followed my gaze. “Isn’t the tree incredible? It’s flocked!”
“Amazing,” I murmured, handing her the throw Baxter gave me to sit on in his car. “Baxter lent this to me. Where do I put my cookies?”
“Natasha is coming up the walk. The cookies go in the dining room, dear.”
So Mars had finally guilted Natasha into attending the cookie swap after all.
I had to give Gwen credit for one thing. Orange and pink were certainly festive. She had used a long orange tablecloth with a pink topper and tied it in swags with lime green bows. Except for the incredible silver sleigh centerpiece loaded with pink and orange ornaments, it could easily have been set up for a birthday party or a bridal shower.
Liza stood next to the table, arranging her cookies. “Do you believe this sled? Gwen says it’s sterling.”
“It probably is. I saw it in a store just yesterday. It’s gorgeous. Look at the detail. The bell on the front, the ornate scrolls on the sleigh. The reindeer are unbelievable.”
“They must have some kind of money,” she whispered. “There are matching deer-head candlesticks on the
Similar Books
