Chapter 5 Eggnog and Wi-Fi #2
The oven dinged, and Lachlan was already moving to pull the desserts out of the oven before Eliza could.
“It’s also a great place to buy your husband a Christmas present,” Gretel leaned in.
Behind her, Lachlan snorted.
“Oh,” Eliza blushed. “He’s not my husband. I’d really love to attend but … I don’t want to get lost.”
“Nonsense. Hansel lays out breadcrumbs all along the route for the visitors. So you really don’t have an excuse,” she winked, recognizing Eliza’s reasoning for what they were: avoidance.
Lachlan approached again with a steaming pan of Eggnog Pudding. “Would you like to come inside and have a slice? We’ve been bored out of our minds with this weather and all. And Eliza’s been baking quicker than we can eat it.”
Puffcake glanced from his spot on the mantle with an expression that said, “Speak for yourself.”
Once again, Eliza failed to speak her objection before Gretel piped up: “I’d love to!” She smiled brightly, her teeth glistening like the snow behind her.
Great, Eliza thought. Now we’ll have even more people locked inside this Airbnb with us.
Eliza turned, leading the way inside and shooting Lachlan a deadly glare. He smiled mischievously, knowing exactly what he did.
“Never been in here before, but have always wanted to,” Gretel said, stealing a look about the place. “It’s the perfect getaway, isn’t it?”
Was, Eliza thought, but nodded instead.
“Sort of. You see ...” Eliza leaned over the island. “We’ve kind of been locked inside.”
Gretel smiled. “You won’t have to worry about that. I’ve already texted Hansel. He’s on his way over now with a couple of shovels.”
Eliza’s mouth gaped open. She didn’t know whether she should feel grateful or irritated. “Th-thank you,” she croaked. “But I don’t just mean because of the snow. This house … it’s …”
“Haunted?” Gretel attempted to finish Eliza’s sentence, her brow raised.
Eliza flinched at Gretel’s word, knowing that the cottage was capable of listening, in its own way. “Well, the word I was going to say was enchanted, but—”
“It’s a matter of perspective,” Lachlan called, the sarcasm practically dripping off his tone.
Eliza ground her teeth. Was Lachlan suggesting the cottage was haunted because she was there? She made great company. If anyone was going to be trapped in a cottage mid-snowstorm, Eliza made the perfect candidate.
One: She was an excellent baker. Two: she didn’t wish to converse, and three: she kept her quarter-life existential dread to herself, thank you very much.
Eliza opened the cabinet drawer with more force than necessary. The silverware, which was a set of peppermint sticks, rattled around.
Hearing the jingle, Puffcake woke from his stupor and flapped his sugary wings over to the island to join the rest of them. Gretel greeted him with a squeal, interrupting the conversation to fawn over how cute he was. She reached out a hand—
“Don’t boop him on the nose!” Eliza warned her.
Puffcake seemed pleased that Eliza remembered. Gretel stroked his spine instead, and he softly began to purr, settling into her lap as she continued petting him.
“Careful. We don’t know if he melts.” Lachlan said.
“Too late,” Eliza snorted with amusement. Puffcake was now fully splayed across Gretel’s lap, belly up, cinnamon-tongue hanging out and all.
Eliza scooped up a serving of the pudding, giving Puffcake half the amount she did the humans. He took one look at the bowl and then to Eliza, letting her know that he noticed and he was not pleased.
She gave him a pointed look. “You’re about five inches tall and almost entirely made of sugar.”
Puffcake just flicked his tail, blowing smoke through his nostrils.
Each of them dug in.
“Santa’s beard!” Gretel let out. “This is amazing. It’s like Christmas in a bowl.”
“She’s pretty incredible, isn’t she?” Lachlan agreed. Eliza blushed at his comment, even though she knew he was speaking on behalf of her baking skills. “By the end of the week, I’m going to be rolling out of this gingerbread house.”
Finishing off the pudding, Lachlan stretched out his arms. “I’m going to head upstairs and do some reading until Hansel gets here, if the house will let me.
” Then his chocolate eyes landed on Eliza.
She suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands.
“Try not to burn down the kitchen while I’m away. ”
“I won’t,” Eliza rolled her eyes. “I bake things other than frozen pizzas, remember?”
Lachlan laughed, already halfway up the stairs. “Yeah, yeah.”
Eliza caught herself smiling. Gretel just stared at Eliza suspiciously. Gretel lifted a perfectly arched lavender brow. “Not your boyfriend, huh?”
Eliza shook her head, her cheeks growing in warmth.
“Hmm,” was all Gretel said, before scooting closer in her chair, her unnaturally green eyes wide with enthusiasm. “You should enter the baking contest at the Reindeer Games festival! I’d bet my bottom you’d win first place.”
“There’s a baking contest there?” Eliza asked.
Gretel, whose mouth was now full of the pudding, only nodded vigorously. She politely put her hand to her lips as she explained, “Every year. Same day, same sort of chaos, but in a different font. Usually, the prize comes down to either Frank or Mrs. Elle Toe.”
“Mrs. Elle Toe?” Eliza raised an eyebrow.
“She’s a retired librarian. Bakes for fun, lives to read and gossip.
Absolutely ruthless with a piping bag. Frank’s family has been running Mendel’s Confections since this village was built.
Like, literally. He might be a thousand, but everyone’s too afraid to ask.
Mrs. Elle Toe would be thrilled to add some fresh blood to the competition.
Frank, on the other hand, I can’t say the same. ”
Eliza smiled. “In that case, I think I might actually be up for going.”
“Good,” Gretel beamed and brushed her lavender hair away from her heart-shaped face. Then, she paused, tilting her head thoughtfully. “What were we saying before, about the house? Oh, right. Haunted.” She didn’t whisper the word.
Eliza stiffened. She noted how the fire in the hearth paused mid-crackle, as if it was listening in.
“You’re not the first couple to mention that this place does some pretty weird stuff,” she took another bite as if she hadn’t just dropped the biggest truth bomb there was. “Some things can be chalked up to coincidence. Other things ... not so much.”
Eliza set down her fork, suddenly not craving any more pudding. “What have you heard?”
“Just little stuff, mostly. The cupboard doors wouldn’t open, the recipe books would vanish, or the words would disappear right off the page.
One couple claimed that the sugar kept spilling onto the floor and wrote different words in it when they weren’t looking.
Others say the oven burns things, refusing to bake. ”
Eliza’s thoughts hinged on the part where Gretel mentioned the recipe books, though none of the words ever vanished for her. The recipes glowed every time she looked through them, and the enchanted cookbook practically opened itself for Eliza. It even fell off the shelf to get her attention.
But with the oven refusing to bake, the doors locking on their own, and not allowing Lachlan out of her sight, it all tracked perfectly.
“Odd,” was all Eliza said.
“It is.” Gretel nodded in agreement. “And the weirdest part? The house doesn’t do it to everyone. Only the couples staying here.”
“But we’re not a couple,” Eliza reiterated.
“Like … at all?” Gretel asked, incredulous.
Eliza shook her head.
Gretel gave it some thought, scraping the last of the pudding off her plate. Puffcake nudged her hand with his frosted nose, clearly annoyed that she had stopped rubbing him. She scratched behind his ear absentmindedly.
“I’m not really an expert on how the house operates, but from what I’ve gathered, it seems like it usually happens to those with unresolved tension. Or, at the very least, attraction.”
Eliza’s stomach felt heavy, and she immediately blamed the pudding.
“I mean,” Gretel went on, “maybe the house can sense when some things are being avoided. The magic’s not exactly subtle.”
Eliza blew out a breath. “You can say that again. All I wanted this Christmas holiday was to come here, bake, and spend all week avoiding my responsibilities. Then, I showed up to find that this place had been double-booked. The house even forces us together, so we have to be around each other.”
Gretel flicked a dollop of pudding off her snowsuit, not seeming surprised in the slightest. “That’s the frustrating thing about magic. It doesn’t always make sense, but it makes you squirm like crazy until you find out the hard way.”
“I’ll agree to that, but I’m not …” Eliza lowered her voice. “I’m not … attracted to him.” Even to Eliza, her voice didn’t sound convincing.
Gretel, seeming unconvinced as well, simply crossed her arms. “Remember to tell that to the mistletoe when it hangs over your head.”
“Mistletoe?” Eliza blinked, searching the rafters. “What mistletoe?”
Gretel just smiled. “You’ll see.” Without explanation, she checked her mobile. “Oh, jolly! Hansel’s almost here. You got any proper winter boots?”
Eliza nodded. “In my car with the rest of my bags. I’ll need help shoveling the snow off my car to get them out.”
“No worries. I’ll text Hansel to tell him to get them out now for you, along with your luggage.”
“T-thank you,” Eliza stuttered out. Why was Gretel being so nice to her? She wasn’t used to this kind of treatment.
Gretel waved her off, saying, “Don’t worry about it,” but Eliza couldn’t help but still feel like a burden.
“Um. Gretel?” Eliza called after her. “Do you happen to know the cottage’s Wi-Fi code? My phone signal here is rubbish.”
A knock came at the door. Only a head of navy hair was visible from where Eliza sat at the island. Gretel rose from her seat in a peppermint-scented wind and headed for the door.
“WirelessWonderland225,” she said before turning the doorknob to let her brother inside.