Page 136 of The Gaybor War

"Oh, sweet summer child."

That’s not reassuring.

He clears his throat dramatically. "The Morningwood Community Tree will be erected at the front gate on December third."

The spatula slips from my hand and clatters against the pan. Of course he chose to lead with that. Behind me, Benji beams. I can feel it.

"Residents are encouraged to bring one favorite ornament to add to the tree," he continues. "Singular ornament, Carter. Not your entire tragic collection of identical snowmen."

"They’re not identical," I mutter. "They represent continuity."

"They represent a profound lack of imagination."

I flip a pancake harder than necessary. "Keep reading."

"Oh, gladly." He skims and inhales sharply. "House of the Holiday is back."

I freeze. A lead weight sinks to the pit of my stomach. Slowly, I turn. "No."

He looks delighted. Unrestrained. Borderline feral.

"Judging criteria include brightness, creativity, originality, structural integrity⁠—"

"We are not doing this."

"—and overall presentation."

"Benji."

"This is a direct challenge."

I set the spatula down carefully. "I heard from Candace that last year got out of hand."

"Because she lost."

"She claims she was sabotaged."

"She had six inflatables and still couldn’t clinch it."

"Because you installed a lighting grid that could guide aircraft."

He shrugs, unapologetic. "Festive excellence requires sacrifice."

I stare at him, irritation and something dangerously close to affection tangling in my chest. "As long as you don’t end up on the evening news."

"Of course not."

He sounds affronted, but we both know it’s entirely possible. I turn back to the stove and point the spatula toward his roofline visible through the kitchen window.

"You realize the front gutters can only support so much weight. If you overload the fascia with anchored lighting grids, you risk structural bowing, especially if there’s ice accumulation."

"Interesting," Benji murmurs.

I pause and slowly glance over my shoulder. He’s watching me over the rim of his coffee mug, expression serenely attentive. Suspiciously serene.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"Several words, yes."