Excerpt:
In its heart-of-hearts, what the holly wreath hoped for most was carolers.
It hung on the front door, facing the street, on a house dripping with decorations. Holly’s branches were woven into a large circle, its dark green leaves shiny and pointed, clumps of red berries bright like Christmas light. A large cream bow with long ends flapped when the door moved. Two large brass bells waited at the top of the circle for any motion to make them call out.
Despite the breath-fogging chill, occasional voices twittered down the car-lined street. A pair of Steller’s jays picked at a bar of suet held in a cage-like feeder hanging from a leafless tree. A lone person sat in a cold car, rubbing their hands. Lights blinked on houses up and down the street in an excited, uncoordinated beat.
Holly watched and dreamed of greeting friends, guests, and unfamiliar family members.
Stars glimmered in the dark sky.
Breaking the sweet near-silence, an old rust-splotched Subaru turned onto the street. The Stellar’s jays took flight into the night sky. The car angled across the street to parallel park, blocking Holly’s view. Holly felt a jolt of excitement and dread. The first guests? Or rude neighbors blocking the view? The car jostled and creaked. The engine ticked.
The driver’s door creaked open and a woman stepped out onto the grass. Her eighteen or so necklaces jangled together, jingling bells and clacking beads of red, white, and green. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She wore three-tiered earrings of a stylized Christmas tree. She slammed the door before turning around and throwing her hands in the air, “Is anyone else coming? There’s a game on that I’d rather be watching. So stop playing Flappy-Turd or whatever on your phones. We’re going in. Now.”
The front passenger door opened and an olive stocking hat bobbed into view. “Yeah, yeah,” muttered a man’s voice as he walked to the back of the car. “You going to open the back for me, Lady-with-the-keys?”
“Oh, now you want in there. But when I ask you to bring the dang centerpiece, oh, no.”
“Look, you made the centerpiece for some weird, passive-aggressive reason. I was busy making sure all the gifts made it into the car, or would that be a lesser faux pas than forgetting an un-asked-for centerpiece for a table that’s probably already got one?”
She glared at him, clicked the keys at the trunk, and smacked the top of the car. Two heads popped up from in the back seat. “Get. Out. Of. The. Car.” She turned and walked toward the house.
Holly could see the woman’s breath while she panted in anger. Her arms were crossed, tamping the jingle of any bells. This was not how Holly thought the first arrival of guests would go. The woman kicked at one of the three-foot ornaments sitting on the lawn but pulled the kick at the last second and only tapped the decoration. Holly was getting scared about what would happen when she came to the door.
The man slammed the trunk shut again and kicked the car door. “Get out of the car, boys. We’re not going to say it again.” He waddled toward the front door, arms loaded with bags overflowing with gifts. “Are we going in?” He gapes at the woman.
“Not until the boys are with us.”
With syncopated creaks, the boys opened their doors and climbed out of the car. Heads bent toward their phones, they slowly shut their doors and shuffled toward the house. Holly couldn’t blame them for taking their time. The shorter boy’s overly large pants were rolled up so they wouldn’t drag behind him. He was bent forward, and his hair fell in front of round cheeks. His face was lit an eerie green from the game on his phone. He carried a brown messenger bag that looked a bit moldy. The taller boy stood erect but still with head cocked toward his phone. He chuckled and tapped on his phone.
“Boys!” the woman screeched.
…