“Yeah, at the most inopportune times.” Nolan pulled out the one delicate item from the bags that seemed most vulnerable to Snowball, the ornamental dog treat. He hung it out of reach on the otherwise-empty tree, much to the dog’s dismay. She whined and pawed at his leg, but he held firm. She was a well-pampered dog. She would survive a couple days of drooling at that treat.
After toeing off his snow-crusted winter boots, Nolan lengthened his stride to help his family with the garland. “Do you remember that time Rudolph took off with the Christmas lights?”
“Do I?” His dad groaned. “They were still attached to the house! That dog pulled the brackets right off the eaves, and I had to climb up and drill new holes.”
“I remember Rudolph,” Gramps said slowly as if he might be mixing up memories. “Poor thing never grew into his nose.”
“That’s the dog,” Nolan said with a laugh. “Mom used to put reindeer ears on the poor thing every Christmas for the family Christmas card contest.”
“Did I ever tell you how she started that?” Stan asked.
“Momstarted that awful tradition? Ihatedsitting for those photos. It felt like she was trying to dress me up in something Christmassy for every Halloween, just to get those pictures in time!”
Stan gave a full belly laugh and leaned against the railing. “Your aunt Agatha was worse. She’d start in September!”
“I guess I should feel lucky not to be my cousins, but still… the photos couldn’t wait until the snow came at least?”
“Your grandmother loved those cards,” Gramps said fondly. It had been a long time since his wife had passed, long enough that Nolan couldn’t really remember her.
“Did she?”
“Oh, yes. Especially the ones from when you were a baby. Do you still have those ones, Stan? She and Agatha seemed to be competing for most elaborate baby costume every year.”
“Nolan always cried,” Stan said with a smile. He looked up and rubbed the back of his neck, gauging the distance to the top of the banister. They were only halfway done and almost out of garland. They were going to need two per staircase.
Luckily, Nolan had gone overboard when buying the decorations for a reason. Barrington Lodge was a big place.
“Of course I cried,” Nolan complained, not that he could remember the photo shoots from when he was a baby. He’d seen the aftermath, though. Baby Santa, complete with beard. A little elf with rosy cheeks. An angel with fluffy wings. Or the most terrible of them all… “The gingerbread was the worst. I looked more like Raggedy Andy.”
“The gingerbread!” Stan exclaimed. “That was the best one. You matched us, son. If I had to wear that costume, you should count yourself lucky you only had to wear it once. Okay, twice. Maybe three times.”
Gramps said, “I think he came to Christmas dinner dressed like a gingerbread.”
“Believe it or not, that was actually your favorite one. You refused to take it off.”
“I was two. I refuse to take responsibility for my decisions at that age.”
Gramps laughed, a long chuckle Nolan hadn’t heard in far too long. It was nice, having them to talk with again, to share memories. Maybe even to make more. But the stories all revolved around Nolan’s mom, a force of nature. What would it be like to have a force of nature like that in his life, pushing him into holiday cheer?
Or would he be the one to take after his mom? It was a nice thought. A warm thought. And when he thought of the future, he couldn’t help but think of Julie. He wanted someone to share the holidays with, to make new memories, new traditions.
And yes, maybe even to compete in the crazy family Christmas card contest. He had the sense that Julie was the kind of woman who would jump right into it with him.
His warm thoughts were cut off by the slam of the front door as it opened. Nolan lost his end of the garland, and it started to unravel until caught by Stan. In the middle of the doorway was a tiny woman, and she did not look happy.
“Klaus Miller, what did you do?” Myrtle demanded.
Gramps blinked, taken aback. He looked at the tree, the garland, and then at her again. “What do you mean? I’ve been here all day.”
Scowling, Myrtle shut the front door with just as much force as she’d opened it. Snowball plastered her ears to her head and shrank away from the sound.
Without taking off her snowy boots, Myrtle marched off the welcome mat and onto the clean hardwood floors. Her boots squeaked. At the bottom of the stairs, she pressed her hands to her hips and glared up at them. Nolan battled the urge to slip away. For a small woman, she could look fearsome.
“You know what I mean. You sent Ted Thorndike to Bostonknowinghe would get caught in the storm and be unable to complete the inspection. You sabotaged Ida’s party!”
Nolan tied off the end of his garland so it wouldn’t slip. “The party is off? But…” Julie had been working so hard. She would be devastated. “Is there anything I can do?”
He started down the stairs, only to find his way blocked by Klaus’s outstretched arm.
