Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I suddenly remember myself. “Congratulations on your win, Mrs. Strong,” I say with a stiff smile.
She squints. “My what? Win? Oh! Of course, that. Well, aren’t you a sweetheart. Thank you. It’s honestly more stress than it was worth, and I’m not entirely sure I’m happy about it. But at least we will start to see some long-needed improvements around here.” She clicks her tongue. “And that’s Nadine. You know better.”
“Sorry, Nadine.” I keep my smile pasted on.
She chuckles. “Better. Oh! And can you tell Samuel to send the boys out here? He’s the one with the cowboy hat and—Mario, I said don’t lift nothin’!” She laughs as she turns to my dad, and the two become lost playfully bickering with each other.
I leave them to it as instructed and approach the house on my mission. Upon opening the door, I’m stunned by the impossible reality of the inside of the house looking twice as big as it did from outside. The front entryway spills into a large, deep living room with a high vaulted ceiling, decorated with flowery streamers, sparkling garlands, and gaudy lights. I don’t know if the room normally has any furniture, but it’s been cleared out for a dance floor with DJ equipment by the wall, where a number of teenagers are lingering around seeming very interested in the turntables. At the other end of the living room is a line of tall glass windows and a door that leads out to a covered area of tables and chairs, where several people appear busy and bustling about. Another side of the living room opens to a big kitchen and dining area that’s scattered with people, partly obscuring a second door that exits to the side of the porch and the swimming pool beyond.
I slowly come inside, unseen and unnoticed by anyone. A bit overwhelmed by the activity in the house, I can’t be bothered to locate Jacky-Ann or taste her lemonade in all of this craziness, let alone find some guy in a cowboy hat named Samuel. Even if I shouted his name, I doubt anyone would hear me.
Also, there’s supposed to be someone in here Nadine wants to set me up with. It’s not that I have no faith in her taste, but I guess you can say my experience with her setting me up on a date with Bobby over three years ago has still left a wound of mistrust in me. She said he’s here somewhere helping with the setup. I can’t help but grow curious which face is his. There are countless.
After spending exactly thirty seconds pondering the answer to that question, two burly teenagers break into an impromptu wrestling match nearby, their friends cheering them on. It isn’t such a big deal until suddenly their scuffle grows too close, and I have to take several steps back to avoid them colliding into me.
What I don’t notice is the monstrous Christmas tree at my back, which my heel discovers before I do.
Somehow, my feet are taken right out from underneath me. All balance is lost as I perform a miraculously fast ballerina trick of both falling and spinning around with alarming velocity, tumbling face-first into the enormous tree’s itchy embrace with nothing and no one to grab except the tree itself.
I cry out in distress as the tree takes my full weight.
Then creaks, shudders, and tilts.
Chapter 2
Spider Santa’s Web.
The Strong family Christmas tree breaks my humiliating fall. I hear its mighty limbs groan as it tilts ever so slightly, a cacophony of tinkling ornaments and rattling glass ringing threateningly, high over my head.
Somehow, the tree doesn’t fall—but something else does. I hear an ornament shatter loudly on the floor, out of sight. It’s a terrible sound.
“Hey, watch it!” someone exclaims from above.
Unable to regain my balance nor free myself from the thorny clutches of the tree—and too terrified to move and cause anything else to dive-bomb and shatter—all I can do is assume that I’m the unfortunate soul being scolded.
“Sorry!” I try to shout back. “I lost my balance, and—” I can’t seem to move. My feet are wrong and something is caught on the tree. Is it my sweater? My scarf? “And I, uh, can’t seem to—”
“Get off of the tree!”
“I can’t!” I don’t even know who I’m talking to. I can’t see a damned thing past all of these green branches, flashing lights, and obnoxious ornaments. “I think I’m stuck or something!”
“Well, get unstuck then!”
His voice is rather demanding and unsympathetic, I’d like to add. “I can’t get any footing!”
What in poinsettia hell is under my feet, anyway?? It feels like I’m standing on a mound of silk. From somewhere behind me, I hear the rowdy teenagers still wrestling and laughing, completely unaware of the bowling pin they just knocked over.