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“You’ll be a pro before you know it,” I add.
“That’s enough shop talk for the day. Tonight, we’re kicking off our first activity of the season. The guests are going to spend the evening making their own ugly Christmas sweaters to wear to the Inn Hop. They are bringing their own sweaters, and we are providing all the possible accoutrements to make them truly hideous. Then, Hal, who is not allowed to witness the construction, will choose a winner. I hope you’ll join us,” she says.
“What kind of prize are we talking?” I ask.
“A free three-night stay at the inn, redeemable at any time of the year,” she informs.
“Can we stop by the mercantile? I need to grab a sweater.”
Bran
“Ican’t believe I let you rope me into this,” I say as Keller and I walk into the Gingerbread Inn.
“Rope you? All I did was answer your question when you asked what I was doing tonight. You invited yourself,” he says.
I shrug. “It sounded like fun.”
He slides his eyes to me as we hang our coats in the foyer. “Decorating sweaters sounds like a fun Friday night to you?”
“Doesn’t it to you?” I ask.
“No. No, it does not, but Willa and my mom think it is, and making the women in my life happy is fun to me. I have no clue why you’re here.”
We turn to follow the sound of the voices when Trudy appears in the hallway.
“This way, boys,” she beckons.
“Hi, Aunt Trudy,” Keller says as he kisses her cheek.
“Good evening. Keller. And, Bran, I had no idea you were coming, but I’m so glad you did. I’ll need a duet partner for karaoke later,” she says as she loops her arm in mine.
“Karaoke? You didn’t say anything about karaoke,” I say to Keller.
“Oh, he didn’t know. Trixie and I were shopping earlier today, picking up some things for the toy drive, and we found this microphone that connects to an app on your smartphone with song choices. Isn’t that clever? So, we bought it and thought we could karaoke to some Christmas songs after the contest. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“Yay, more fun,” Keller quips.
She leads us into the great room, where several card tables have been set up. Each one holding a variety of options for decorating the sweaters we are carrying. There’s a menagerie of kids being assisted by adults.
I scan the space until I find Hannah. Her hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she has a strand of colorful, blinking Christmas bulbs around her neck. I watch as she helps one of the children with the hot glue gun.
“Bran?” Trudy calls, bringing my attention back to her.
“I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?” I ask.
She looks from me to Hannah and back again. “I’m heading to the kitchen for a refill, so I asked if you’d like a coffee or cider.”
“Coffee would be great,” I reply.
“Coming right up. Pick any station that has a free seat,” she says before flittering off.
I join Keller at a table with three teen boys, and the five of us decide to do movie-themed sweaters. One kid creates the Grinch out of felt and green glitter. One makes anElf-inspired pattern, complete with yellow tights hanging from the hem. Keller tacklesA ChristmasStory, making a lamp with the leg of a doll and gold foil and black tinsel.
I cut out a black silhouette of a flat cat and trim the white fur from a fake Santa beard to outline it, mimicking carpet, and giving it an electrocuted appearance.
At one point, I stand and walk over to Hannah’s station to ask if she has another necklace I can borrow.
“What do you need it for?” she asks.
