“Wait!” A bleach-blonde in a black leather jacket waved to me as she walked briskly across the driveway. Her sequined miniskirt ended just a few inches below her jacket hem, exposing chubby legs. Her only weather-appropriate attire was her snow boots. Judging by her awkward gait, they were too big and borrowed. An oversized red leather purse was slung over her shoulder. She carried a pair of red patent pumps in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
“Can I help you?” I stepped onto the porch and closed the front door behind me. I stood there shoeless, my arms crossed against the biting wind and frigid temperature.
“You better believe you can help me. You must be Cen.” She paused at the bottom of the steps and let out an enormous sigh. She just stood there, as if she expected me to descend the stairs to meet her.
I didn’t. “That’s me. Do I know you?”
She climbed the stairs without answering. She shoved a bottle into my arms. “Here, take this.”
I took the bottle as she passed me, spraying snow all over my stocking feet. I recognized the label. It was a cheap white wine popular at gas stations and 24-hour convenience stores, probably a last-minute purchase though it wasn’t even chilled.
I had never seen her before, and Westwick Corners was so small that I knew everyone in town. I even knew most of the locals’ out-of-town guests too. Most of those guests hadn’t even made it into town because of the snowstorm. Yet here she was, acting like she owned the place.
I followed behind her as she waited expectantly at the front door.
Bleach-blondie reached the front door and stomped the snow off her boots. She waited impatiently for me to open the door. “You gonna let me in? I gotta get inside and warmed up.”
“Oh my!” Grandma Vi hovered beside me. “I don’t like the looks of this tart.”
I glared at Grandma Vi before turning to the woman. “Thanks. The wine looks lovely. Are you a friend of—?”
She held out her hand. “I’m Gail. Didn’t Brayden tell you I was coming?”
“Wait—what?” I shook her hand and turned. A man hurried across the driveway. My heart sank as I recognized Brayden, my ex-fiancé. Surely, he knew that his standing invitation to the West family Christmas Eve dinner had ended with our broken engagement earlier this year. Brayden was self-centered, but even he wasn’t that dense.
Or maybe he did know and decided to show up anyway. With a date, no less. Knowing him, he probably wanted to make me jealous. Or, at the very least, show off a date since I would be with Tyler.
Brayden waved and quickened his pace. “Hey, Cen. I see you’ve already met my girlfriend, Gail.” He emphasized the last three words for effect.
“I uh…wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here?” As Westwick Corners’ mayor, Brayden was also Tyler’s boss. I doubted that his visit was anything work-related. Gail’s wine bottle confirmed that. My Christmas Eve worsened by the minute.
“Pearl didn’t tell you? She invited me—I mean us.” He clamped a hand on Gail’s shoulder. “Let’s get inside. It’s freezing cold out here.”
Grandma Vi perked up as Gail and Brayden walked past her into the hallway. She started singing a Shania Twain song. “It’s gonna be a party, uh-huh…”
“Grandma, stop that!” My whisper was just loud enough to stop Brayden in his tracks. He turned around.
“Still talking to yourself, I see.” Brayden tossed their coats onto the hallway staircase banister. He turned and smirked before following Gail into the dining room.
I shut the door and leaned against it. Aunt Pearl was definitely up to something. I was beyond furious at her for inviting all these people. She had suddenly morphed from anti-social to party planner, inviting people I did not want to spend even a minute with. Maybe that was the party theme, given the arrival of my ex-fiancé and his strange new girlfriend.
“It’s not all about you, Cen.” Grandma Vi intruded into my thoughts. “Lighten up.”
Maybe our strange roster of guests was Aunt Pearl’s attempt at comedy. Witch games were a family tradition on Christmas Eve. We cast mischievous spells and tried to out-witch each other with supernatural high jinks. But we never involved ordinary people. I worried that Aunt Pearl was about to take things a little too far.
I headed into the dining room and placed Gail’s gas station wine on the table. My dream Christmas was shaping up to be a bit of a nightmare, and it would only get worse.
And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
Even if the last person I wanted to spend Christmas Eve with was the man I had left at the altar. Even if he had the nerve to bring his new girlfriend. Even if my romantic dream Christmas was ruined.
And even though I knew Aunt Pearl had something up her sleeve, I was powerless to stop it.