Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

G eorgie hands me a giant red bag just as the gift exchange is about to get underway.

“Don’t worry, Biz,” she says. “Our gifts are guaranteed to be real crowd-pleasers. Expect a riot to break out as they attempt to steal these gems from one another.”

“If it’s that great, I might just steal it back and take it home with me,” I say. Although I’ve already started mentally baby-proofing the cottage as it is. I won’t steal anything this afternoon that might prove to be a hazard. And from what I can tell, just about everything is a hazard to a toddler, let alone a newborn.

“All right, everyone,” Macy calls out. “We’re all going to unwrap the gifts we brought to the exchange for everyone to see. Then we’ll work our way clockwise—starting with me, as we proceed to steal them.”

“That’s not how you play,” someone calls out.

But in true Macy fashion, she shouts right back, “Prison rules! Mark, set, open !”

Macy used to pull that prison rules stunt with me when we were little, too. Usually, it resulted in her either winning or flipping over the game board. There was never an in-between with her.

Soon enough, wrapping paper goes flying and gifts are exposed, everything from silk pillowcases to candles, to cozy socks, to fancy coffee cups.

Macy holds up a slim white journal in her hand. “Who’s up for an adult coloring book? And when I say adult, I mean adult . You’re welcome.”

A few whoops of approval are heard.

It takes me far too long to unfurl my own gift from the dozens of layers of red tissue paper covered in glitter, and now I’m covered in glitter, too.

“Whatever it is, it’s heavy,” I say to the group as they wait for me to finish so the game can begin. “And it has— hair ?” I say, pulling it out by the tresses and belting out a short-lived scream once I spot it. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I say as I turn it around, and half the room shrieks, too. “A skull with hair?” I say to Georgie disbelievingly, although considering the source, I should very well believe it.

It’s a ceramic skull with red glass eyes and long pink tresses—but still. I’m pretty sure a skull for Christmas isn’t on anyone’s wish list, least of all mine.

“Definitely not what I want decorating the nursery,” I mutter under my breath and Georgie scoffs.

“That’s typical of you, Bizzy,” Georgie snorts. “You didn’t even notice the jewels in her eyes. Maybe she’ll be your new babysitter?”

“Why did I have to get the skull?”

She shrugs. “It was either that or a kit to make a candle out of your own earwax. Consider it a win.”

“Now that I know it could have been worse, I do.”

“And now, ladies,” Georgie calls out. “The grand finale .” She quickly unwraps her gift. “One magnifying mirror with tweezers—gently used.”

A series of oohs and ahhs circle the room.

Soon, we’re picking and choosing, and stealing with the best of them until everyone ends up with a gift of their own. Shockingly, I didn’t end up with the hairy skull—Georgie wanted it back.

“Priscilla belongs with me,” she says, petting the ghoulish-looking girl. “What did you get, Bizzy?”

“A cookbook,” I say, holding it up. “ Fifty Shades of Pizza .”

“I bet it tastes like chicken,” she counters.

Noel laughs. “You girls were a hoot! Thank you so much for coming and please come back again.”

Macy rolls her eyes. “You really do like to live dangerously.”

“Thank you for having us,” I say as we each pick up our gingerbread houses while readying to leave. “Noel, I’d love to chat with Ember. Do you know where I can find her?”

Her ruby-red lips twitch a moment. “Do you know where Candy Cane Lane is?”

“You mean Holiday Lights Central, right off Main Street?”

She nods. “She lives on the corner of Highland and Green. She sells cocoa and cookies to all the looky-loos who come out in droves this time of year. You can’t miss her.”

“Good to know. I just so happen to be walking my dogs there this evening. Can’t wait to say hello.” Or at least now I’ll be walking my dogs there this evening, and I’ll bring my little cute cat, too. I rest my hand on my belly—and, of course, the baby by proxy.

“Careful”—Noel warns—“she might just talk your head off. She’s a bit of a Chatty Cathy.” Here’s hoping Bizzy finds everything she’s looking to hear. Heaven knows Ember is always more than willing to spill a little dirt.

Here’s hoping that’s true as gospel.

It’s getting dark out.

And I think it’s high time I head over to see the holiday lights, and perhaps a killer.