Tangled Lights and Silent Nights

by Kelly Stone Gamble

  “Thank you, kind sir! Merry Christmas!”

  I trotted across the street, with Orson on my heels. I heard Twitchy start to yell something at me just as a patrol car turned the corner. It whooped the siren once, and Twitchy decided it was better to run away than to spend a night in Rikers.

  Jerry’s eyes lit up when he saw the money we’d won. “You did it! You got it back for me!”

  I glared at him. “I didn’t do it for you.”

  He looked confused for a second then remembered. “Right, right.” He held out his hand expectantly. I just stared at it. “Hey, come on, man. I need to do my Christmas shopping.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You can’t get her the present she needs most, namely a better father. And I don’t trust you to walk fifteen feet without spending this on magic beans.”

  He started to protest, but I moved toward Jenny and Orson. She was beaming and giving Orson tummy rubs. He licked her face appreciatively. Thank goodness the last thing he’d eaten was a cupcake.

  “Good news! I talked to Santa for you and gave him your list!”

  Jenny clapped her hands joyfully. “Thank you! Is he going to get me my dolly?”

  “Even better! He told me that he and the elves were going to be so busy that we should go and get it right now. He gave me money from Mrs. Claus so we can go shopping.”

  Jenny looked concerned. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

  I gave her my most cheerful smile. “Hey, Santa himself said it was OK. He wanted you to pick the dolly that you love the most.”

  Orson chuffed. Oof. Tone it down. This ain’t a Crest commercial and your smile is frightening me.

  We walked to the American Girl store. It was teeming with young girls, excited to spend a wad of their parent’s money on a doll with a historical backstory. Jenny picked one from the Revolutionary War era, but I think her choice had more to do with the fact that it had red hair. Jenny bounced up and down while the cheerfully tired clerk wrapped up her purchase. Orson sat by my feet and scratched his ear.

  I took that moment to lean in to Jerry. “Now listen. You and your daughter will go back to Jersey and have a lovely Christmas. Take the rest of the money and get that poor wife of yours something nice. And if I ever hear that you’re in my city again and falling for sucker scams, I will track you down and kick your ass up and down Broadway.”

  Jerry thought that would be a great time to show a little spine. Jerry was not a bright man. “Hey, no one tells me what to-”

  I put my arm across his shoulders to disguise me Vulcan-nerve-pinching his neck. “Yeah, I think that’s the problem. You don’t listen when people tell you things. Did it occur to you how I beat that Three-card Monte game? It wasn’t luck. I had…special ways.”

  I looked down at Orson, Jerry followed with his eyes. Fortunately, Orson had heard and stopped scratching. He was always good at improv. His eyes glowed golden and he added a low growl.

  Jerry gasped and squirmed, but I had a good grip. “So get this straight. We will know if you come back. And God help you if you screw up like this again.”

  I released my pinch. Jerry slumped, but I propped him back up as Jenny turned around.

  “I got it! Thank you for going to see Santa, Daddy!” She gave Orson a big hug. “And Merry Christmas to you, doggy!”

  Orson panted happily. Make her leave! I can’t keep up my jaded New Yorker front when little kids are hugging me.

  She skipped out the door, giving me a chance to say goodbye to my new best friend, Jerry. “That girl thinks the world of you. Don’t disappoint her again.” Orson growled for emphasis. Jerry nodded and scurried out the door.

  Orson and I ambled out into the bustling crowds. That was nice of you.

  I shrugged “I had too many terrible Christmases as a kid. I couldn’t stand to see a dirtbag like that give one to his kid.”

  Orson scratched himself. She’ll find out her Dad’s a creep soon enough.

  I looked across the street at a bell-ringing Santa collecting for the Salvation Army. “Yeah, but for a little while longer, her Dad’s still a good guy. And this will always be the Christmas that Santa Claus bought her a doll in New York. With an assist from Orson the Elf.”

  Ho ho ho.

  “Come on. We need to get home to Sheila. And you need to tell me what she wants for Christmas.”

  Orson waddled ahead of me. Don’t worry. I think you’re doing great so far.

  THE END

  Books by Victor

  You can read more about Gabriel & Orson in their debut novel,

  Tail & Trouble. Volume Two,

  The Winter of Our Distemper

  About Victor

  Victor Catano lives in New York City with his wonderful wife, Kim, and their pughuahua, Danerys. When not writing, he works in live theater as a stage manager, light designer, and technical director, working mainly with dance companies. His hobbies include coffee, Broadway musicals, and complaining about the NY Mets and Philadelphia Eagles. (Well, less about the Eagles these days.)

  Get in Touch

  Official Facebook: facebook.com/VictorCatanoAuthor

  Website: VictorCatanoAuthor.weebly.com

  Twitter: twitter.com/VGCatano

  Instagram: Instagram.com/vgcatano

  Bookbub: www.bookbub.com/authors/victor-catano

  Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/14873908.Victor_Catano

  A Twin Oaks Christmas

  by Reece Taylor

  Hannah

  “Hannah, why don’t you go meet the guys and I’ll finish packing these up. MaCee is on her way and can help me bring them to town.” Lee pushes me toward the door.

  Looking back at all the baked goods covering every surface of our house, I try to resist. “Lee there’s so much. I can’t leave you with this mess.”

  “Angel, it’s fine. MaCee will help, and I’ll call Toby if I need to. We’ll take care of it. Go, or they’ll be sitting there waiting on you.”

  I finally give up the argument, leaving him to it.

  The Twin Oaks Christmas Parade and Festival is today, and the town is bustling with activity. I have been recruited to judge the window decorating contest, along with Sawyer Wilks and Tyler Dixon. We’re supposed to be meeting in fifteen minutes, but with all the cookies, pies, and cakes I’ve been baking all day, I am running late.

  MaCee, Toby, and I volunteered to set up a booth with Christmas goodies and donate the proceeds to the town charity that helps underprivileged families in our community. It’s a great cause and should really help, but right now, it’s stressing me out.

  Tyler and Sawyer are standing on the corner of Main Street when I arrive. Tyler looks at his watch as I rush up slightly out of breath.

  “So sorry, guys. I was p`utting the final touches on a cake and time got away from me,” I reach into my bag and take out a notebook and pen. “I’ve written down all the names of the businesses participating, and I even made columns for the items we are judging. We have creativity, Christmas theme, and overall appearance.”

  “Wow, girl, aren’t you organized. I’m glad you thought to do that. I was at a loss as to how we were going to judge this thing,” Sawyer compliments, looking at my list.

  “And that is why we have Hannah. She’s here to keep us straight.”

  Blushing at Tyler’s comment, I turn to lead the men to our first contestant.

  The window of The Baked Oak is decorated with Santa holding a cake and several elves surrounding him with cupcakes in their hands. After scoring it, we continue down the street to each window until we reach The Twisted Oak.

  Surprising as it is, Mitchell has outdone himself. I had no idea he was such a good artist. He’s decorated his window with a reindeer sitting on top of an old lady and Santa holding his face in his hands, wit
h several other reindeer standing around laughing.

  “Mitchell did a great job. I saw him out here working on it but had no idea it would turn out this good.” Sawyer laughs.

  Tyler and I agree. The window is creative, funny and has a Christmas theme.

  Sawyer’s window has Santa getting a tattoo of Jingle Bells. I want to nominate it, but he feels we shouldn’t be participating since we are judging the contest.

  The window at The Handy Oak has Santa putting up Christmas lights, with Mrs. Claus directing him and the elves tangled in the lights.

  I love all the decorations, and everyone seems to have had a great time doing them—except for Mr. Joey Thompson.

  He participated, but it looks like it was a struggle. The Drunken Oak has a hand drawn stick figure with a Santa hat in their window. The figure is holding a bottle of wine and the words “Bah humbug” are written underneath it. I felt bad giving him zero points, so he got a one under participation and a one under creativity. Tyler and Sawyer are standing in front of the drawing and contemplating it as if looking at a masterpiece until Sawyer can’t keep a straight face any longer and they both start laughing.

  “Gotta love Mr. Joey. He does things his way,” Sawyer says as we walk across the street to The Floating Oak, DeeDee Duncan’s shop. Miss DeeDee is our resident hippy and her window reflects this. It has a woman in a flowy dress riding a unicorn surrounded by clouds. The woman is throwing presents to children below her.

  “Is the unicorn farting holly berries and leaves?” I move closer to get a better look.

  “Those holly leaves look suspiciously like marijuana leaves, if you ask me.” Laughing, Tyler takes the scoresheet and marks a three for creativity.

  “Everyone did a great job, and I have a feeling this is going to become a tradition around town,” Tyler says.

  Sawyer takes my notebook and adds up all the scores. “Looks like Mitchell at The Twisted Oak is our winner, and The Handy Oak is our runner up.”

  Retrieving the pad from Sawyer, I stick it back in my bag. “I’m going to take our results to the mayor and will see y’all at the festival.”

  The mayor has a booth set up at the gazebo in the middle of the park. After handing her the results, I walk over to our booth of baked goods to help MaCee, Toby, and Lee put the finishing touches on it. Minutes before the parade is due to start, we walk over to the route to watch.

  Most of the town businesses have floats in the parade, and everyone is throwing candy, beads, and toys to the bystanders. Can’t have a parade in Louisiana and not throw a few beads.

  Laughing, MaCee points down the street at Santa’s float. “Holy Cow! Now that’s a float.”

  Mrs. Ruby Thompson and Miss DeeDee must have designed it, and it’s a doozy. They have Mr. Joey Thompson sitting on a golden throne while the two ladies fan him. Wearing a Santa suit and a large, fake beard, the scowl on his face does not say “happy.” The float is covered in a white, fluffy material that is supposed to look like snow, and decorated trees are scattered around the space. There are several children dressed as elves and reindeer throwing candy and beads.

  The float stops at the park entrance, and Mitchell jumps out of the truck. Grabbing some wooden stairs, he sets them on the side of the trailer for the occupants to exit. The elves and reindeer step off first and form two lines with an aisle down the center.

  “Santa! Santa! All hail the great Santa!” they chant, and one lone voice yells, “Dilly, Dilly!”

  I laugh when Mr. Joey can’t hide his grin at Rowdy Wilks.

  Ruby and DeeDee exit next and scatter holly and poinsettia leaves on the ground for Mr. Joey to walk upon. It’s a very comical sight, and if looks could kill, I believe both women would be in danger. Mr. Joey had nominated the ladies as his helpers to get revenge for them nominating him as Santa, but I believe they turned the tables on him. They embraced their “slave” status and are putting on quite the show.

  Santa makes his way to the chair set up near the gazebo and takes a seat. If I’m not mistaken, I heard him mumbling something about putting coals in a couple ladies’ stockings.

  Mr. Joey plasters a fake smile on his face that soon becomes real when the first child, a small girl, grins up at him and gives him a hug after he hands her a doll.

  “Aw … Look at Mr. Cranky Pants. His heart melted like a snowball in New Orleans,” Toby remarks.

  Laughing, we agree with Toby as the children crowd around Mr. Joey.

  We walk over to open our booth, where Lee and MaCee have all the goods arranged and even have sold signs on a couple of the cakes. I catch Toby sneaking a couple cookies and pat his hand.

  “Hey, I’m planning on paying for them. You know, it’s rude to slap the customers,” he admonishes, and I hold my hand out for his cash.

  “The Santa float is one for the record books. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Santa presented as a king.”

  Agreeing with MaCee, I laugh and wonder how Ruby convinced him to do it.

  “It was definitely a new take on things. Mr. Joey looked fit to be tied,” Lee adds.

  Working at the booth for only a few hours, we sell all our goods and close shop, making quite a bit for the charity. After giving our proceeds to the committee, we join the rest of the town for caroling. Squeezing between Lee and MaCee, I lip sync each song—my singing is no match for them. They sound amazing, and several folks stop singing to listen to them. Lee and MaCee look around, confusion on their faces, and finally get quiet.

  “No, keep singing. You two sound so good together.” Lee blushes at Mrs. Carlston’s compliment but turns to MaCee and they continue.

  Eggnog and spiced holiday punch is in abundance following the caroling session. The mayor announces the winners of the window decorating contest, and Mitchell acts as though he has won an Oscar.

  “I would like to thank my family for all your support and the judges for being able to recognize true talent. Most of all, thank you to my loyal fans. Without you, I would never have come this far.” Mitchell holds his trophy in the air as everyone cheers.

  “I had no idea Mitchell was so comical. The mayor looks as though she wants to smack him,” Toby says.

  We all look at the stage just as the mayor shoves him aside and steps up to the microphone.

  “I would like to thank everyone who participated in today’s festivities. We made over ten thousand dollars for our Christmas fund. This will go a long way in helping families in our community have a wonderful holiday.”

  This is the first town event Lee and I have attended as a couple, and I’m happier than I have ever been. Today is a prelude to how wonderful our lives are going to be in Twin Oaks.

  Lee

  “Do you know those folks over there?” I nudge Hannah and point to a family standing off to the side by themselves.

  “No, I’ve never seen them before. Let’s go check it out.” Hannah grabs my hand and leads me toward them.

  I live for this girl. We’re going to my mother’s for dinner soon, and MaCee and her husband Tyler are joining us. I’m looking forward to having our family together.

  “Hi, I’m Hannah Dale, and this is Lee Burkett, my fiancé. Y’all look a bit lost. Can we help you with anything?” She extends her hand for the woman to shake.

  “Thank you so much. I’m Susan Howard, and this is my husband Rodney. Rodney’s mother lived her a long time ago and passed away two months ago. Her last wish was for us to reconnect with her sister. We think she might still live here.”

  “Who is your aunt? We may know her,” I offer.

  “Mrs. Sally Arceneaux, she was my mother’s oldest sister,” Rodney replies.

  I raise a brow. “I know Miss Sally. I didn’t know she had family.”

  “She’s sitting over there.” Hannah points into the crowd.

  Rodney look
s over and stares for a moment. “Wow, I would have known her anywhere. It’s uncanny how much she looks like my mother.”

  “Where are y’all from? Your accent is British. Do you live in the States?” Hannah is the only person I know who can ask a stranger a personal question and they won’t take offense.

  “No, we don’t live in the States, we’re from Bristol, England. It’s been a long journey. I only hope she wants to see us.” Susan hugs her two children to her.

  A boy and a girl, they look to be around eight and ten respectively. Both are smiling and looking at the townspeople in awe.

  The girl tugs on her mother’s hand and looks up at her. “Can we go see Santa?”

  “No, dear, we aren’t from here. It would be rude to impose.”

  I shake my head. “No, ma’am, you’re in the South. We treat everyone like family. She’s more than welcome to go see Santa. You and Hannah can take the children while I walk with Rodney to meet Miss Sally.”

  Rodney smiles at my suggestion and looks relieved to be meeting her without the children present.

  “Thank you so much for that,” Rodney says as we head toward his aunt. “I was trying to figure out a way to meet her on my own. She and my mother had a falling out years ago, and Mother worried she would not be very accepting of us. I must admit I’m a bit nervous.”

  As we approach her, Miss Sally laughs at Mr. Joey who’s acting jolly when everyone knows jolly is not his forte. Rodney and I stand awkwardly for a moment before I clear my throat.

  “Miss Sally? I have someone here to see you.”

  She looks up at us with surprise and hops out of her chair to grab Rodney in a bear hug. He stands with his arms akimbo for a few seconds before returning her hug with tears in his eyes. I step away to give them some privacy.

  “Rodney? Oh, my boy Rodney. I never thought I would see you.” She holds him back at arm’s length and eyes him up and down. “Let me look at you. What a fine man you turned out to be. What are you doing here?”