Together we’ll dance all the night long!
With a boogie that makes us swing and sway,
Join the fun, come out and play!”
“And what isthisatrocity?” Nigel demanded, dismayed. “Isn’t Green Yule supposed to be aholy day?Now they’ve replaced the sacred hymns withboogies?”
“I thought you weren’t religious, Mr. Grimm?” Luna said, crossing her arms.
“I don’t have toworshipthe Green Mother to beoffendedfor Her sake!”
At this Luna laughed outright, tossing back her head and sending a burst of cold air from her lips. “You, sir,” she declared, “are a regular Gronk Cat.”
“A what?”
“A Gronk Cat,” she repeated. “You know:
“Watch out now, don’t you frown,
Gronk Cat's here to mess around,
Haunts the streets in every town,
He’ll steal your smile, he’ll bring you down!”
Nigel gaped at her in abject bewilderment.
“Gronk Cat hates Green Yule, you see,” Luna continued. “During the Green Yule season, it grows to the size of a carthorse at night and hunts down all the bad little boys and girls, who forget to put holly over their doors in honor of the Green Mother.”
Nigel narrowed his eyes. “If this Gronk Cat of yours hates Green Yule so much, you’d think he’drewardboys and girls whorefuseto bow to social dictates and leave their doorsun-festooned.”
Luna shrugged. “No one ever claimed the Gronk Cat was a logical creature.” She added with a tilt of one eyebrow, “You know, the best way to drive him off is with the loud singing of Green Yule carols, so . . .”
“I trust Green Yule boogies are less effective,” Nigel snarled.
“Oh, but theGronk Cat Boogiewas the hit of last season! Didn’t you hear it?” Luna performed a little shuffle right there on the frosty sidewalk, singing:
“You're so mean, Gronk Cat, watch out,
Green Yule's coming, let’s twist and shout,
Boogie Woogie fun, we’ll dance it out,
Show Gronk Cat what it’s all about!”
Nigel blinked slowly. “I have never so desperately longed for death.”
Luna rolled her eyes. “All right, Mr.Gronk.Let’s get some tea in you before all this Green Yule spirit makes you giddy!”
With that, she led the way into the shop. Nigel paused to cast the fiddler a last withering glare. The man was just starting to pick out theGronk Cat Boogieon his instrument, and he shot a huge, gap-toothed grin right back.
Nigel slammed the door.
He turned to face into the shop just in time to see Luna removing her hat and allowed himself a brief moment to admire the way her hair bounced against her shoulders. Despite the horrors of the oncoming festive season, he felt a momentary breath of peace pass through him. It was the same feeling he always had when she returned to the shop each morning, a sense of rightness settling over the atmosphere. Luna’s presence made everything as it should be. Regardless of what took place in the outside world—even a mass hallucination of holiday spirit—the rhythms and routines of The Arcane Bouquet would go on, infused with the delightful aromas of brewing tea and fresh flowers.
Nigel took a step to join her at the counter. Then froze.
His heart leapt to his throat and stuck there.
