12. Meggie

12

Meggie

O ur traditional gingerbread house competition started the year after my dad died. Vickie and Lily were fighting over who got to wear his Christmas sweater, so mom created a gingerbread house competition to decide.

Every Christmas Eve we make homemade gingerbread, get all the candy mom can afford, and give them two hours to make the best gingerbread house they can. Mom and I trade off who’s team we’re on, and when it’s all done, we put pictures on social media so that friends can vote without knowing which house belongs to which sister.

Whoever wins gets the Harper Family Christmas Sweater. It’s a giant red monstrosity with a Christmas tree on the front that’s covered in bells and little toy ornaments no bigger than a fingernail. There’s a scary-ass doll, a rocking horse, a little toy soldier, a teddy bear, a snake (for some reason), and a few other little trinkets, some of which have fallen off over the years and been diligently reattached by my mom. Because of the bells, it makes a flat tinkling noise anytime you move in it.

My mom bought it for my dad for an ugly Christmas sweater party when they were dating, and even though it’s an eye-sore, it’s the softest thing I’ve ever felt. And since it was dad’s, it’s always been special.

After so many years of wear, it’s fraying around the hem, but it’s still just as loved as ever. And it’s still just as ridiculously funny, too.

I really want to see one of my guys wearing it.

“Everyone know their teams?” I ask when my pack and my family gather in the kitchen, cleaned up and ready.

“Yep.” Ellis is already wearing his team Candy Cane Crew shirt as he hands out t-shirts to the rest of the group. He got them all in size extra large so they’d fit anyone on any team. My sisters absolutely swim in them, which makes us all laugh and they scowl before getting in the mood and demanding pictures.

We’ve got three teams.

Lily, Ellis, and Dante are the Candy Cane Crew in their red shirts. McQuinn, Nils, and Oz don green shirts with the words Jingle Ballers on them. And Vickie, Harrison, and I make up the final team. The Mistletoe Mavericks.

Mom’s gonna be a floater and help whoever needs help. I think she mostly just wants to take pictures and sit back drinking spiked eggnog for a change.

Team Jingle Ballers takes the dining room table. The Candy Cane Crew is at the kitchen table. And my team sets up at the kitchen island.

“Alright.” Vickie cracks her knuckles before looking over the bags of frosting and cups of candies spread out before us. “I have some ideas. Meggie, you start microplaning the pieces while I mix up the colors. Reds are so tricky and I want to get the chimney perfect. We’re doing a chimney, right?”

“Microplaning?” Harrison plucks up a gummy bear and pops it in his mouth.

“To file and straighten the edges, duh,” Vick sasses him.

“It makes sure the bottom of the walls are straight," I explain. "So the house stands upright and doesn't tilt to the side or fall over.”

He picks up another gummy bear and slips the green candy between my lips. “I didn’t realize quite how serious this was.”

“That’s your first mistake,” Vickie scolds him as she confiscates the bowl of bears and shoots me a disapproving look as I chew the gummy candy. “We’re professionals. Stop eating the key to our victory!”

“Well, ok then. Um, I’ll be back in a minute,” Harrison says. He saunters over to the kitchen table where Oz, Nils, and McQuinn are hard at work on their creation.

“What do you think they’re planning?” Vickie asks.

“Planning?” I swing my attention back to Harrison and catch him and Nils looking at me. They quickly glance away. Hmmm. “Yeah, they’re definitely up to something.”

I know it can’t be something having to do with the gingerbread house competition, because Harrison wouldn’t gang up with another team. He knows how much Vickie and I want to win this, and I know he wouldn’t do anything to upset me. So, it’s got to be something else. They’ve all been sort of cagey about Christmas.

“Want me to go spy on them?” Vickie asks.

“Nah,” I ruffle her hair, which earns me an eye roll. “Let them have their secrets.”

I’ve got secrets of my own. I can’t wait to see their faces when they see what I got them. I'm an amazing gift giver.