Tinsel in a Tangle

by Kimbra Swain

  We spent over an hour turning Dylan’s living room into the perfect setting for a Christmas postcard. The 10-foot tree stood in the corner just off the fireplace. It was adorned with red, gold and green ornaments glittering in the twinkling lights. I’d hung evergreen garland around the fireplace. Levi hung stockings for all of us, even Rufus.

  Standing back and surveying the room, I asked Levi, “Well, is it too much?”

  “He will love it,” Levi said.

  “I hope so,” I sighed. “Let’s get out of here before we get caught.”

  “Why don’t you stay and surprise him?” he said. “I’ll take the truck back home. You hide out here.”

  That wasn’t what I had planned, but I liked the idea. “Okay, let’s do it that way,” I replied. “I’ll give you ten minutes to get down the road before I call.”

  “Have fun,” he smirked. Kissing me on the cheek, he left me alone in Dylan’s enormous house. I suddenly felt like an intruder.

  It was the longest ten minutes of my life. I rang his phone. “Hello, Beautiful,” he said.

  “I’m home,” I said.

  “Okay, want me to stop and bring some food to the trailer? Or did you eat?” he asked.

  “I’m not at the trailer,” I said.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “Your house,” I replied. “Inside. Waiting on you.”

  “Shit! How the hell? Nevermind. I’m on my way,” he said excitedly. “Nestor, hold my tab. I gotta go.” I heard Nestor laughing in the background.

  “Hurry home, Darlin’,” I smiled as I said it.

  I heard the throaty engine of the Camaro. “I can’t get there fast enough.”

  “Don’t you get a ticket,” I teased.

  “Levi, let you in,” he said realizing how I got in the house.

  “Hmm, yes. It seems like you might have mentioned that my truck already had access to your property,” I pointed out.

  “Grace, I had only one thing on my mind at my house the other night. You’ll have to forgive me or torture me. Either way, I’m good,” he laughed.

  “I’m waiting,” I said and hung up. I ran upstairs to the closet with clothes in it for me. Might as well go all out. I picked out a short, cute dress throwing a sweater over the top. I would have never worn such a thing just a few months ago, but things were different now. Pulling my hair back, I got shivers thinking about the nasty little peeping Dick from last night.

  Running back downstairs, I heard the rumble of the garage door. I barely made it back to the living room when he came flying through the kitchen door. He stopped dead in his tracks staring at the holiday spectacle.

  “Surprise,” I half whimpered. By the look on his face, you would have thought I killed his best hunting dog. “It’s too much. I’m sorry. I’ll take it all down.”

  “No, don’t touch it,” he muttered crossing the distance between us.

  “Um, okay,” I hung my head.

  He sat down on the couch and stared at the tree. “Sit with me,” he said coaxing me next to him.

  I sat down folding my legs under me. “Please don’t be mad.”

  “Grace, I’m not mad. I’m shocked. This is more than anyone has ever done for me. I’m overwhelmed,” he said.

  I breathed a heavy sigh that had built up in my lungs. “You scared the shit out of me,” I pouted.

  “Come here,” he said pulling my face to his. “You are amazing.” When he released my chin, my lips practically fell on his. He pulled me closer to him as he kissed me. His warm hand trailed up my leg and over my thigh causing me to moan.

  “You really do like it,” I said when he allowed me to speak.

  “Yes, plus the dress. Damn, I gotta have you now,” he said as his eyes turned primal. I didn’t need any more encouragement.

  We didn’t make it to the bed. I laid curled in his arms while the fire blazed and the lights twinkled. Darkness fell outside.

  “Can we have Christmas here?” I asked.

  “Of course, I’d love it,” he said. Good grief, what took me so long to give into this man? I turned to face him, ready for round two. He recognized the glint in my eye. “Never enough.”

  “For you or for me?” I asked.

  “Both,” he laughed.

  “Definitely both,” I replied.

  We slowly worked our way into this round, but just as things were getting hot and heavy. Both of our phones started ringing at the same time. Dylan growled and answered his. I turned mine off.

  “Yeah, she’s with me. He what? I swear! I’m fucking sick of trolls,” Dylan shouted. “No, I’m sorry Troy. Of course, we are on our way.”

  “Never ending trolls. I really hope Levi is right about there being thirteen of them. Any more of them, and I’m declaring a troll war,” I said.

  “You need to wear something warmer,” he pointed out when I grabbed the dress.

  I sighed heading toward the bedroom. He followed, because everything he was wearing ended up in a heap with mine. After changing into warm fresh clothes, we drove to meet Troy.

  We pulled up outside the Shady Grove Church of God in Dylan’s blue truck. He was right. It was nicer than mine. It had a back-up camera and satellite radio. Several deputies stood outside along with members of the church. Dylan told me before we headed this way that we were going to the church. He knew I didn’t like churches much since they tended to be so judgmental. I wasn’t sure what to expect about the Church of God. I knew it was the church that Winnie loved.

  Our church was branded the Baptist Church in town, but those that attended knew that it wasn’t a real church. It was a portal to a thick grove of trees where our druid priest would conduct services. My kind of church.

  I got out and hesitated. “Don’t worry. I won’t let Him strike you down,” Dylan said pushing me towards the door.

  “I’m not sure you are in his good graces after that little romp on the couch,” I replied.

  “Nothing little about that, honey,” he smirked.

  Men. Egos. He laughed, because I refused to acknowledge him.

  “Good evening, Grace,” Troy greeted me.

  “Let’s get on with it. How drunk is he?” I asked.

  “They don’t use real wine. They use grape juice,” Dylan explained. I decided church was worse than I first thought. They didn’t even use real wine for their communion.

  I stopped at the threshold of the church as both me stared at me. “Seriously?” Dylan said already standing in the lobby.

  “You never know,” I replied.

  “Get in here,” he said waving toward the inside auditorium.

  As we went in, we were greeted by the pastor of the church, Ezekiel Stanton. Ol’ Zeke had lived in Shady Grove all his life. His father was a Methodist preacher. He told me once that the CoGs as he called the Church of God, were a little livelier than the Methodist. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I nodded my head in agreement. I learned early in my life in the human realm that you don’t piss off priests and preachers. They don’t cast spells or hexes. They just pray to their God who in turn would destroy your life. Supposedly. I didn’t take the chance.

  Zeke knew what I was. I wasn’t sure how knowing about fairies meshed with his religion, but he once told me that he didn’t know where I fit in his faith. However, he assured me that it was on the “good side.” I didn’t correct him, but I was a dark fairy. Unseelie. Wild. Either way, I liked Zeke, and he liked me.

  “Why Miss Grace you are looking cozy this evening. It is so good to see you in the House of God,” he proclaimed.

  I twisted my face at Dylan and whispered, “Is he the troll?”

  “Grace,” he scolded. I shrugged. You never know.

  “I seem to have one of your little fellas in my communion supplies,” he said. “The worst part is that he’s in my office where I keep my little snack cakes. He ate them first. I love those little Christmas tree ones with the cream in the middle.” Zeke had plenty of cakes in the middle. His belly bulg
ed over his belt causing the buckle to turn downward to the earth.

  “Why in the world would he want stale crackers and grape juice?” I asked.

  “I didn’t ask him, ma’am, but you are welcome to. He’s a little too unholy for me to deal with today,” he said. I had no idea what he meant as Troy led us into the back of the church behind the pulpit.

  I paused for a moment feeling pressure on my head. A resistance to the room that Troy entered. Dylan grabbed my arm like he was going to force me inside, but saw my face. “What is it?”

  “It’s warded. I can’t go in,” I explained. Wards were magical force fields that kept unwanted creatures out while allowing friends to enter. Somehow the troll had gotten into the room, but I could not. I looked around the door to see if I could determine the source of the ward.

  Above the door a sign proclaimed, “For a whore is a deep ditch; and a strange woman is a narrow pit.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said pointing at the sign.

  Dylan chuckled. “Are you the whore or the strange woman?”

  “Both,” I replied.

  Troy came back out. “What’s the deal?”

  “I can’t go in. The room is warded,” I said pointing at the sign. He smirked. “Shut your mouth.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” he protested. “Zeke, will you please invite Grace into your office?”

  “What?” Zeke questioned.

  “It’s a fairy thing. Just give her permission to enter,” Troy said.

  “Um, okay, Miss Grace, you are welcome in my office anytime,” he said leaving the door wide open for me to enter for forever. The pressure at the doorway faded and cautiously I stepped through.

  A long-nosed troll lay on the floor, completely naked, staring at the ceiling fan twirling above him. “It’s so pretty,” he muttered.

  “I thought you said the wine was fake?” I said.

  “It is. I think,” Dylan said.

  “My Queen! It’s so good to finally meet you,” he said turning his eyes to me. “Whoa! How did you get to be so beautiful?”

  “Jeeeeee-,” I started to swear using their savior’s name when Dylan covered my mouth.

  “Now let’s not take any chances,” he said.

  “Mr. Troll, are you drunk?” I asked.

  He rolled over on his stomach propping his head up with his fists. “No, but I might be a bit of a glutton. Food makes me happy.” A huge smile crossed his face.

  “This is not your food,” I said.

  “Well, no, you are right. However, I saw those tasty little cakes on the preacher’s desk. I ate one, then I ate them all. Then I found these stale crackers, but they taste pretty good with the juice,” he explained.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Bo,” he replied.

  “Just Bo?” I asked.

  “That’s what I said,” he sassed. That’s when Dylan started laugh.

  Troy threw a choir robe at him. “Put that on, nasty little man.”

  I hissed at Dylan who continued to laugh. “If you can’t control yourself, get out,” I said thrusting my finger towards the door. He put his hand over his mouth as his body jerked with muffled laughter.

  “Bo, get up off the floor. Troy is going to take you to your brothers,” I said.

  He looked at me and tiled his head. “Are you sleeping with Mr. Happy over there?” he asked pointing to Dylan who promptly stopped laughing. However, I picked up where he left off.

  “That’s none of your business,” Dylan said.

  “Oh, of course, it’s not. I just wondered. Is he providing for all your needs, my Queen? I’d hate for you to have a consort who couldn’t fulfill your desires,” he said. I stopped laughing.

  “That’s enough. Out,” Dylan said as he leaned to hoist the troll off the ground. The troll screeched in a high-pitched tone. We all covered our ears at the grating sound. It made my eyes water it was so loud and annoying.

  “Dylan,” I said calling him back. He let go.

  The troll reset himself, looking at me again. “Oh, so it’s a new relationship,” he said.

  “What the hell, Bo? This really isn’t your concern,” I said.

  He stood up quickly. His large nose hanging over taut lips. “I beg your pardon, but it is. As your loyal subject, I must ensure that your needs are met. If he isn’t doing a good enough job, I’d like to offer my services.” He bowed in front of me.

  I rubbed my forehead. “So, every time you try to move him, he does that?” I asked Troy.

  “Yep,” he said.

  “Bo, would you go for a ride with me? We can discuss my relationship with Dylan more,” I offered.

  “Do you have cake? I’m fond of cake. It’s much better than pie,” Bo said.

  “I disagree,” Dylan muttered.

  “Amen,” said Zeke.

  My mouth dropped at both of them. I knew what Dylan meant, but the twinge of light in Zeke’s eyes led me to believe that he wasn’t so innocent. A man’s a man, I guessed. Holy or not.

  “See, this is what is wrong with your relationship, my Queen. A real man eats cake,” Bo replied. “I think it is best that I go for a ride with you. I request that he does not accompany us.”

  “It’s my truck, buck-o,” Dylan said.

  “Now, Bo, if you are really concerned about my relationship, then you’ve got to let Dylan ride with us,” I coaxed.

  “But, but,” he sighed. “Okay.”

  We loaded up in Dylan’s truck. Bo sat in the back seat.

  “See, this. He’s driving. Is that because it makes him feel like a big man to drive and be in control?” Bo asked.

  I giggled, because Dylan rolled his eyes. Big, beautiful blue eyes. “No, Bo, I drive, because she is the Queen and deserves to be chauffeured everywhere,” Dylan replied.

  “Dig that hole, baby,” I laughed.

  Bo nodded his head as if this explanation was acceptable. As we drove, we passed the speedy mart, Bo pipped up, “Oh, the store! They have the girly cakes.”

  “What girly cakes?” Dylan asked.

  “The ones with the cute little girl on them. We must stop there,” Bo said.

  “No, we aren’t stopping,” Dylan said. Bo started the high-pitched screeching until Dylan relented.

  “Are you half-Banshee?” I asked.

  “No, if I were a Banshee, you would bleed out of your ears, my Queen,” he stated. I wondered if he were half-Banshee would I only bleed out of one ear.

  Dylan took the troll inside, and he returned with a dozen Christmas tree cakes. “I tried to get him to get the oatmeal cream pies, but he said they were pies, not cakes.”

  I laughed, but I could tell that Dylan was at his final level of tolerance.

  “My Queen, would you like one? I would share with you because that is what a good man would do?” Bo said.

  “Do you think that Dylan doesn’t share with me?” I asked.

  He licked the cream off his fingers. “Well, what has he shared with you?”

  His bed. His tongue. His…I was glad that didn’t come out of my mouth, even though it was the first thing I thought. “I think the most important thing he shares is his time. You know, Bo that time is something we cannot get back, and we never know when it might be our last moment,” I offered.

  “That’s a pittance when you are immortal,” he scoffed. “Does he share his cakes with you?”

  “I’m not really a cake kind of girl, Bo. I love sausages and meatballs, though,” I said. Dylan swerved, but righted the vehicle quickly. “He shares those with me. He even took me to the BBQ place for lunch a couple of days ago.”

  “It’s not cake, but okay,” he muttered.

  “You see, Bo, we have a good relationship so far,” I said.

  “So far! So, you have doubts about the future! I knew it!” he latched on to nothing. It was only a few more miles to the jail.

  “I have no doubts, Bo,” I said as Dylan reached across to hold my hand. I laced my fin
gers with his. The warmth of his hand spread up my arm. Even in all the madness, he had stood by me. Steady and reliable. I had no doubts anymore.

  Bo started screeching again. “Don’t touch her! We are still talking,” he breathed between screeches. I cut my eyes to Dylan, he nodded. Pulling power from my tattoo, I turned to face the shrieking troll. I outstretched my hand, and the truck fell into silence. Granted, it was quite cold now. Bo made a beautiful ice sculpture.

  “He will live,” I assured Dylan.

  “I know that you wouldn’t kill him, Grace,” he said. “No doubts? At all?”

  “None,” I replied.

  We dropped the block of ice off at the jail which thawed as we put him in the cell. He started screeching as it melted, but ten brothers pelted him with fists until he stopped.

  “Hey, Mr. Happy!” he hollered at Dylan as we walked out of holding. Dylan turned back to him. “You take care of her. She’s important.”

  A smile spread across Dylan’s face, and he bowed slightly to the troll. The rest of them waved goodbye to us as we left.

  “Two more,” I said.

  “This is ridiculous. It was funny at first, but good fucking grief,” he said.

  “Vulgar mouth,” I scolded him.

  Fire flashed in his eyes. “Come home with me, and I’ll show you how vulgar.” I went home with him for the demonstration. Afterwards, I assured him that his mouth was far more vulgar than mine had ever been.

  December 23rd

  Dylan, Levi and I joined volunteers from the town to prepare Christmas meals for some less fortunate families in the county. Brother Rayburn coordinated our efforts. The ladies from church brought in side dishes and desserts. Brad, who seemed to weather his sausage losses, provided a semi-truck sized smoker. Dylan helped him fill it with hams and turkeys.

  Kady and I packed portions into microwaveable containers, sorting them by family. Levi filled boxes, then loaded them into the back of my truck. He and Kady planned to deliver them together.

  As we packed, I asked Levi, “How bad did Bethany look last night?” Levi and Winnie watched Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer on television, then he went to take her home. He returned putting her in his bed.