Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Max
Narrator: Not sure the spanking was necessary but—
“Hey, excuse me, sorry to interrupt, but just wanted to say the spanking was necessary. She likes it. Also, shout-out to you for the giant erections. Real top-notch. Proud of the both of us.”
Narrator: Um, this is not the time where you butt in.
“Sorry, apologies. Just had to let you know you’re doing a great job. Spankings are necessary. Parents watching a garland hang from my dingle . . . not necessary.”
Narrator: I don’t know. I think the readers and I think otherwise. Now, please, we have things to accomplish in this story. No more interruptions.
“Right, okay . . . doing a great job. Two thumbs up.”
Max: I think I might be in love.
Storee: Wait . . . are you serious?
Max: I mean, I think so. I can’t be sure. There is a truckload of lust parked on my heart, that’s for damn sure, but also, I feel different about her. Like, I need to protect her at all times. I need to be around her at all times. I think about her constantly. That’s . . . that’s love, right?
Storee: That’s the start of it, yeah.
Max: Then I’m starting to be in love with her.
Storee: Oh my God, Max, that’s . . . ahh my heart.
Max: I know. It feels crazy, but I swear to you, this is it. I’ve never felt this way before, and with Christmas coming up, I want to get her something really nice.
Storee: What do you have in mind? Chocolate-covered cherries?
Max: LOL. Obviously, but something else too.
Storee: Do you have any ideas?
Max: Well, I was sort of thinking about getting her something to do with the cottages, but then I thought that maybe Dwight might not go for the cottages, so I don’t want to do that, plus I already got her a snow globe to represent the cottages.
Storee: Yeah, and you don’t want to go all in on the business. What about some jewelry?
Max: I thought about it, but she doesn’t wear a lot of jewelry.
Storee: Yeah, that might not be a good gift then.
Max: What about a map of the town? Do you think that’s lame?
Storee: What kind of map?
Max: Well, what if it was a map that I get commissioned, and I have the artist put hearts where we’ve kissed or I’ve had moments with her, special moments?
Storee: OMG, Max, that’s actually really cute.
Max: Yeah? Not lame?
Storee: No, I love that, and I think she will love it too, especially since she wants to make Kringle her new home.
Max: Okay, then I think I’ll do that.
Storee: You have to pick a nice frame for it.
Max: Obviously. Jesus, do you think I’m just going to hand it to her in a manila folder?
Storee: I don’t know. You’re a question mark to me. Sometimes you do the right thing; sometimes you don’t.
Max: I like to keep you on your toes.
Storee: Not necessary.
Max: Okay, if you think that’s a good plan, then I’m going to go for it. Martha has a cousin who could commission the piece for me, and she said he works fast. He’s done a map of the town before, so I don’t think it would take too long.
Storee: Better not. You only have a few days until Christmas. Oh, by the way, my husband has information for you—he wouldn’t tell me what it was, but he said he had to talk to you.
Max: Oh shit, really? Better head to the reindeer barn then. Thanks for the advice. You’re the best.
Storee: I know.
Smiling, I lift my axe off the ground, throw it over my shoulder, and start walking toward the reindeer barn, but I shoot a quick text to Betty on my way.
Max: Hated not waking up next to you.
Thankfully, she’s quick to respond.
Betty: I know. It was sad and cold in my bed. Do you think your parents will let you spend the night?
Max: LOL I don’t need their permission.
Betty: Then why didn’t you spend the night last night?
Max: Cleaning the couch, remember?
Betty: Oh right. Did your dad watch over you?
Max: Like a hawk.
Betty: Yikes. But did you get your ass print off the couch?
Max: There wasn’t one to begin with, so yes.
Betty: Don’t tell him about the air mattress.
Max: Fuck no. But should I tell them about your countertop?
Betty: NO!
Max: LOL! Okay, have to talk to Cole. I’ll see you later?
Betty: Yeah, see you later. XOXO
I pocket my phone and enter the barn, where Cole is sweeping up some feed.
“Hey,” I call out.
He doesn’t lift his head to look at me as he says, “Hey.”
“Uh . . . is everything okay?” I ask, feeling the vibe in the barn as morose. He’s usually grumpy and not in high spirits unless he’s around Storee or his girls, but this, this is different.
He sets the broom against a pole. “Let’s go to my office.”
Okay, this is very unlike him. I follow him into his office, and we both take a seat.
He leans back in his chair and rubs his hand over his forehead. “So I did some digging, and you know how the Dankworths have the surveillance cameras outside their shop?”
“Yeah,” I answer, wondering where he’s going with this.
“Well, they’ve had them up for years. Even before the statue. They made it seem like they were put up for the statue, but no, they’ve had them up way longer.”
“Okay, where are you going with this?”
“They’ve kept all the records and archived them. I was talking to Martha and Mae about it. So come to find out they have surveillance from the night Dwight’s ornament was stolen.”
“Wait, really?” I say, sitting up. “They could see that far back?”
“Here’s the thing. They don’t have it of the person actually taking the ornament, but you see the person head up to the tree and then head back, holding an ornament in their hand.”
“Holy shit. And clearly it wasn’t me.”
He shakes his head. “No, it wasn’t you.”
“Then, fuck, let’s tell Dwight. This will clear everything up. This is exactly what I—”
“Dude, it was Ansel.”
I pause, my heart stuttering in my chest. “Wait . . . what?” I tug on my ear. “Did you just say it was Ansel?”
Cole slowly nods his head. “Yeah. It was him.”
“Are you sure?”
“I saw it with my own eyes, or else I wouldn’t have believed it. Ansel took the ornament.”
I feel all the blood drain from my head as I try to comprehend what Cole is saying. “Ansel, my brother, is the one who took the ornament?”
“Yeah, man.”
“Fuck.” I blow out a deep breath. “Fuck, that’s .
. . that’s . . . what the fuck was he thinking?
” I roar, anger taking over as I try to process this.
“Why would he do that? He knows what that tree means to our family. Jesus Christ.” I stand and start pacing.
“I mean, it might as well be fucking me, because there is no way Dwight is ever going to be okay with it being anyone in my family. He will use that against us. He . . . fuck. FUCK! Why would he do that? I mean, I knew it wasn’t me, and I could say that until I was blue in the face, and Dwight might have been able to believe me at some point, but knowing that it was Ansel?
Someone in my family? I’m fucked. I’m utterly fucked. ”
I lean against the wall, my hopes crashing all around me as I think about the implications of this.
Defeated, I ask, “What am I supposed to do? She wants me to meet her parents when they come into town. I’m supposed to talk to Dwight . . . Fuck, man.”
Cole leans forward, forearms propped up on his desk. “I don’t know. Let me . . . let me think about this for a second.” He rubs his fingers over his brow. “You like her, right?”
“Yeah, I think . . . dude, I think I love her. I was just telling your wife that this morning.”
“You were?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m there, man. She’s all I think about.
She just feels so perfect for me. And I enjoy her company.
I want to be around her. I want to talk to her.
I want her to tell me about her day. I really fucking like her, and now I’m just going to have to let her go because of fucking Dwight?
Because of Ansel and his moronic tendencies? ”
“No, you’re not going to let her go. We’re going to figure out how to approach this. Let me just think on it, okay?” He blows out a heavy breath and then looks me in the eyes. “Sorry, man. I wish I had better news.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Betty
I stopped by the farm earlier today, but Atlas was really busy given the time of the year—which is crazy, because shouldn’t people already have their Christmas trees? Either way, I texted him that I’d be at Warm Your Spirits working when he was done with work.
Uncle Dwight comes home tomorrow, and my nerves are high because I know Atlas wants to talk to him, to settle things, but what if Uncle Dwight doesn’t want to settle things? What if he wants to hang on to this feud? I could see it happening, because although I love him, he can be very stubborn.
And my parents are coming in soon too. It just all feels very stressful.
Maybe it’s one of those things that we hold off on telling Uncle Dwight until after the holidays. It would be wonderful to see Atlas on Christmas, but if giving that up means that we can get through Christmas peacefully, then I very well might do that.
I think I’ll make the suggestion when I see him.
My phone dings with a text, and I glance down to see that it’s from Atlas. Smiling, I open up the text.
Max: On my way to you. Can you grab us drinks to go? I have somewhere I want to take you.
Betty: Of course. What do you want?
Max: Hot cocoa with peppermint.
Betty: You’re so cute. See you soon.
I pack up my computer and notebook, and place them in my bag before heading up to the counter, where Tanya is chatting with two ladies I haven’t met yet.
“Hello, Betty,” Tanya says with a warm smile. “Are you heading out?”
“Actually, Atlas is coming to pick me up and asked if I can grab drinks for us. Two peppermint hot chocolates please.”
“Oh, is this the Betty that is dating our Atlas?” one of the ladies asks.
“That would be me,” I say with a smile.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Martha, and this is Mae, my sister. We live across from Cole and Storee, next to the Dankworths.”
“It’s so nice to meet you. Storee has been such a good friend and has welcomed me into this town with open arms.”