How My Neighbor Stole Christmas

Up Whistler Lane, on the left side of the street,

the two happy humpers kept things very discreet.

They’d text, they’d call, they’d send naughty pics,

all the while growing a bond through this season of sticks.

And now that the last Kringle contest is finally here,

I’m not so sure it will end with a happy new year.

For someone is lurking, ready for the truth to come clean,

through the cheery Christmas decor, the bright red, white, and green.

“How do my earrings look?” I ask Taran, showing off the Christmas tree earrings that I bought at the stalls when I was with Cole. Well…that he bought for me.

“Festive,” she says as she glances around the gymnasium, taking in the setup.

Like every other competition—at least the non-performance ones—stations have been set up for each contestant. We are allowed to bring in judge-approved supplies, and then like in the show Chopped, there’s a “pantry” full of supplies like wrapping paper, string, tape, fabric, baubles, and trinkets. There are sewing machines and a Cricut machine, and irons and ironing boards. Everything we might need to get crafty.

And since this is the last competition of the Kringle contest, the gymnasium is decorated in a winter wonderland theme, dripping with lights, banners, fake trees, and wreaths. It looks breathtaking in here.

“Can you take note of the rugs they have spread throughout the floor? Those are tripping hazards, and we don’t need you to fall flat on your face,” Taran says.

“I saw them,” I tell her.

“And remember what we practiced with the wrapping paper. Hide the seams as best you can.”

“Yes, of course,” I say.

“And the stocking, don’t sew too close to the edge or you’re going to fray the edge and lose the proper stitching.”

“I know, Taran,” I say, annoyed because this is how she’s been for the entire freaking day leading up to the competition.

“Don’t get snippy. I’m trying to help,” she says.

“Yes, but you’ve said the same thing over and over all day. At this point, I can stitch the damn stocking with my eyes closed.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“I wouldn’t,” I reply just as I see Cole walk through the door with Atlas.

They’re decked out in ugly Christmas sweaters, jeans, and boots. They have their sleeves rolled up, and even though the sweaters are ridiculous, they make them look so good.

Especially Cole, since his has a giant reindeer with a red ball for a nose. How fitting. When he spots me over by Taran, he grins, and then I catch his eyes wandering over my outfit. A red velvet dress with green stockings and black booties. I tied my hair back into a tight bun on the top of my head so it’s out of my face while I work, and I stuck some holly into the bun for added flair.

When his eyes meet mine, he wets his lips, and I feel my entire body heat.

The competition is almost over. It’s Christmas Eve eve, so tomorrow the lights will be judged, and on Christmas Day, the winner will be announced. After that, Cole and I are coming clean to my family, and then we’re going to figure out where to go from there. I know Taran’s itching to get back home, but I am more than willing to stay longer. I don’t have to start work back up until after the new year, which means I could spend the whole holiday week with Cole, and I could even stay in his house at night and help out Aunt Cindy during the day. It will be perfect.

Just a few more days.

A few more days to see how long-term this thing between us could possibly be, because yeah, that’s where my head is at, but I can’t know exactly how long until I get a better read on Cole after the holidays.

“What are you looking at?” Taran says, startling me right out of my reverie.

“The, uh, the flocked trees,” I say. “Not sure why anyone would want to deal with that mess. Sure, they’re pretty, but just think about that white stuff all over the house.”

She glances over at said trees and then back at me. “A nightmare if you ask me.”

“Total nightmare,” I say just as Cole walks up to us with Atlas.

“Darling, how not lovely to see you,” he says in a sarcastic tone as he leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek.

I cross my arms over my chest. “The feeling is mutual.”

He nods at Taran. “How’s the evil sister doing?”

“It would behoove you not to address me in such a way,” she says. She looks both Cole and Atlas up and down. “I see that you chose to wear your tight pants today. I hope they split while you’re running around.”

“So do I,” Cole says with a grin. “Martha and Mae are judging, and I know they have a penchant for men popping out of their clothes.”

I hold back the snort that wants to come out of my mouth and instead cover it with a smirk while I pretend to scratch the bottom of my nose.

“I will have you know we’ve been practicing night and day, and no one is more prepared to take this win than Storee.”

“Night and day? Huh, I thought I saw Storee around town. Couldn’t possibly be all day…and night.”

Oh my God, Cole.

“You know what I mean,” Taran says, hands on her hips. “Just be prepared because she’s bringing her A game.”

“I’m shaking,” Cole says and then comes up to me again. This time, he kisses me on the other cheek, his face blocked by mine as he whispers, “You look beautiful.”

I feel my cheeks blush as he pulls away. “Don’t trip over the rugs,” he says as he moves away from us and over to the station with his name on it. He and Atlas look over the setup and move a few things around.

“He’s so arrogant. I can’t believe you’ve even allowed him near you these past few weeks.”

It’s been a real travesty.

All those orgasms, how dare he!

“It’s almost over,” I say as Aunt Cindy makes her way toward us.

Taran spent some time curling her hair this morning at the dining room table while I speed-wrapped. I was able to get the perfect wrap job done in a minute and ten seconds. We are going to be judged by how fast and how accurate our wrapping is, so I think I have that covered. Most importantly, though, Aunt Cindy said she wanted to look her best today. Therefore, we found her best red turtleneck and paired it with a white-and-green Christmas vest and green slacks. She looks like Aunt Cindy in all her holiday glory again.

“I think we can win this, girls.”

“I think so too,” Taran says. “We just need Storee to focus.”

“I’m focused,” I say. “Okay? I’m plenty focused, but I’m going to be less focused if you keep bothering me about being focused.”

“All right, girls, all right. Maybe we should go around and say something nice about each other,” Aunt Cindy says. “Because I can feel the tensions are high, and we need to rely on each other, not battle.”

God, she sounds just like Mom…when Mom isn’t sipping margaritas down in Cancun.

“I’ll start,” Aunt Cindy says, taking both of our hands in hers. “These past few weeks have been some of the best I’ve had in a long time.” Her eyes tear up, and I can feel a wave of guilt pass through me for all the bad weeks that came before. “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed being around you again, seeing your smiling faces in the morning, seeing you work together, enjoying the holiday season like we used to. It’s meant so much to me. And Taran, you’ve been so wonderful taking care of me, helping me with my rehab. Not to mention, your precision with hanging the lights has been a sight to behold.” Taran smiles brightly, something I haven’t seen in a while. Then Aunt Cindy turns to me. “My dear Storeebook, you are who I’ve worried about the most.”

“Me?” I ask, confused. “Why me?”

“Because I saw you shut down after what you went through with this town all those years ago. I saw that beautiful heart of yours shrink a size or two, and to me, that was a huge tragedy. You have always been the girl who loved Christmas, who’d spend every waking moment with me participating in the holiday season. So when I didn’t see you come around anymore, I thought that maybe you’d lost your precious, infectious spirit.”

“I was only…I think I was just trying to find myself.”

She pats my hand. “I understand that, but seeing you here, seeing you smile, seeing you participate in the Town Kringle competition has been so beautiful to witness. I’m just overjoyed that you’d compete in my honor. It means the world to me.”

“Of…of course,” I say. “I want nothing more than to win this for you, Aunt Cindy.”

“Thank you,” she says sweetly and then glances at Taran. “Okay, your turn.”

Taran lets out a heavy breath. “Aunt Cindy, ever since I can remember, you have always made the holiday season fun. And this year is no exception. But what I liked the most were our conversations where you shared your wisdom with me. I will always cherish those talks.”

What talks?

Taran looks at me. “Storee, I don’t say this enough, but I’m proud of you.” Uhh, what? And why…why am I getting choked up? “You have overcome some big fears by participating in this competition, and you’ve done it with grace, with excellence, and with a dedication that I know means so much to Aunt Cindy.”

I nod, my throat growing tight.

“Umm, wow, okay. I wasn’t ready to get emotional.” Aunt Cindy squeezes my hand. “But yeah, thank you for everything you guys said. That means a lot. Uh, Aunt Cindy, you make Christmas what it is—what it always should be. I forgot that. I forgot how much I need this holiday in my life, how much I need you to be a part of it, and I can’t believe I’ve stayed away for so long. I promise that won’t be the case moving forward because you are why I have the magical memories I do.”

A tear rolls down Aunt Cindy’s cheek as she brings my hand up and presses a kiss to my knuckles.

Now I turn to Taran and take a deep breath. “Taran, I know we don’t get along all the time, and there are moments when I think we don’t quite understand each other, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate you and love you, because I do. I appreciate your warm heart and the way you take care of anyone who needs help without question, the big and the small. I appreciate how you set aside your life to come visit me in California, even if all we do is sit around and watch the Lovemark movies I edit. I appreciate you pushing me to be a part of this competition and being by my side during the process. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

Taran softly smiles. “You would have, but you wouldn’t have had such a great light display.”

I laugh and shake my head. “A light display that isn’t fully done yet.”

“Just need to make a few tweaks.” She pinches her fingers together.

“Can we have all the Kringle-ees please approach their stations?” Bob Krampus booms through the gymnasium.

Time to compete.

“Good luck,” Aunt Cindy says.

“Don’t forget to give yourself room with the thick needle,” Taran says.

“Oh my God, Taran.”

She holds her hands up in defense. “Just a subtle reminder.”

Cole

He can’t keep his eyes off her. She’s much too pretty.

And everyone can see it, even the judging committee.

Will it make him lose? Will he forget how to sew?

Will he only think about how well she grips his penis and can blow—

“Come on, can you not, right now? I’m trying to focus.”

Narrator: Says the man who keeps looking over at Storee with hearts in his eyes.

“That’s because this is a romance. Am I supposed to look at her like she’s a piece of trash hanging out of a dumpster?”

Narrator: Don’t you get mouthy with me! I have control over your pants, and I have no problem splitting them so your dilly dong falls right out because, oops, I forgot to put underwear on you.

“Jesus…Christ.”

Narrator: Luckily for you, I’m allowing you to wear a thong today, so when you bend over, everyone sees your choice of underwear.

“Uh, fuck no.”

Narrator: Too late. On with the story.

“Dude, are you wearing a thong?” Max asks as I straighten from picking up a piece of construction paper I accidentally dropped on the floor.

“What?” I say, pulling my sweater down and covering my ass.

Max lifts my sweater and then tugs on the strap of my thong, snapping it against my skin. “What the hell is this?”

“Uh…Storee dared me. While we were shopping the other day, she found it and dared me to wear it today.”

Max studies me for a second, shifts on his feet, then leans forward. “Is it comfortable?”

“Surprisingly more comfortable than I expected.”

“Nice.” He nods. “I’ve thought about trying a thong before but never found someone to wear it for. Looks like you found someone who can appreciate a no-panty-line in your strut. Let me ask you this, does it look like Santa’s pants, buckle and all?”

“You know, I’d rather not talk about this right now.”

“Talk about what?” Storee says as she approaches our station. The competition’s ready to begin.

Max leans in and whispers, “The thong you dared him to wear.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re actually wearing it?”

“Now is not the time, you guys. We have a good portion of the town watching us.” I look upon the crowd all decked out in their Christmas gear while soft holiday music filters through the gym.

“He’s right. We can discuss thongs after we take the win in this competition,” Max says.

“You really think you’re going to win this one?” Storee asks, looking so damn adorable that I wish I could just skip the contest and take her back to my place.

“We know we are. We had a secret weapon prepping us.”

“Oh?” she asks. “And who might that be?”

“My mom,” Max says with pride. “She’s a sewing queen, and we’re going to make the best stocking ever seen.”

“You realize it’s not just stockings, right?” Storee says.

“Well aware,” Max says. “Cole and I have been wrapping fake presents for years while working at the farm. We could do it in our sleep at this point.”

“Really?”

I nod. “Yeah, we’re pretty good at it.”

“And card making…well, let’s just say we’ve sold some at the farm before.”

“Wait, seriously?”

I shrug. “There was a time in our lives when we needed to make some side cash, and Christmas cards were the way to do that. We had a cart near the gift shop and made enough to buy a PlayStation one year.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks.

“Busy doing other things,” I say with a waggle of my eyebrows.

Max leans in. “He’s referring to the sex.”

Storee’s lips thin. “I know what he meant, Atlas.”

“Okay, just making sure,” he says with a wave of his hand.

“Storee, please get to your station,” Bob Krampus says as he takes center stage.

Storee’s station is right next to mine again, which is a blessing and a curse. I want to be able to sneak peeks at her, but I also don’t want to get too caught up in watching her. It’s a fine line, and I’m sure Max will be on the lookout for me getting distracted.

As Bob Krampus speaks to the crowd, laying out the rules of the competition today, I glance around the gym, noticing people from all over town.

The Dankworth kids sit in the very front, lined up from tallest to smallest, all wearing matching red polo shirts and khaki pants. Their hands are in their laps while their parents sit at the judging table.

To the left is Tanya along with Jefferson Chadwick—surprised he’s here—and neither of them is talking to the other, but that’s not uncommon. Jefferson talks to no one.

Frank and Thachary are in the middle, surrounded by friends, and…yup, I believe that’s a thermos in Thachary’s hand. I can only imagine what’s inside it.

Sherry Conrad, the antiques store owner, sports a very large hat blocking the view of the irritated people behind her.

Peach and Paula make their way up the bleachers toward Frank and Thachary, both of them carrying a thermos as well. The middle section is going to get rowdy.

And then there’s Mr. and Mrs. Maxheimer along with Felix and Ansel, Max’s siblings. When I make eye contact with them, Ida—Mrs. Maxheimer—waves at me with a huge smile and then holds out her phone to take a picture. I wave back and then grab Max by the shoulders so she can photograph us together. When she’s done, she offers me a thumbs-up.

Losing my parents was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to endure in my life, but I will say this: Ida and Otto Maxheimer helped me immeasurably during that time, and they still do. Ida treats me like one of her sons, always giving me hugs and kisses, treating Max and me like we’re the same. And Otto, well, he gave me a chance, a job, a place to heal when I was hurting the most. I’m so grateful for both of them.

“You ready for this?” Max says.

I nod, ready to win this for my family. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

And so the contest began, the Kringle-ees running around,

Jimmy with the wrapping paper, Ursula with a frown.

They cut and they taped, and they taped and they cut,

Cole stealing glances at Storee’s round butt.

Beatrice sneezed, and Jimmy said bless you,

while Ursula haphazardly stuck her hair with the glue.

There were ribbons and holly and Christmas-y junk

While the crowd in the middle got very, very drunk.

Bob Krampus called out the time was halfway done,

and now for the dreaded stocking-y fun.

The fabric was thrown; the thread tumbled to the floor.

They pasted, they sewed, they ironed some more, more, more.

Clock’s a-ticking, but did that stop them? No. They simply said,

“We don’t have time to sew;
we’ll simply just glue it instead.”

Ursula and the doctor used glue like they were pros.

Jimmy stood bewildered, just scratching his nose.

Storee and Cole, they stuck with the thread,

even though Storee’s stocking began to shred.

“Hands up,” Bob said, his voice booming through the air.

They threw up their hands and hoped with a prayer.

The stocking was lacking, the cards were askew.

Beatrice skipped red and green, and opted for blue.

Who did it? Who won? Who proved to be the best?

Cindy bounced for results in her Christmassy vest.

Storee

I have never in my life felt so much adrenaline as I did in that last hour and a half.

Holy.

Crap.

I stand next to Cole, our items placed on the judging tables, perusing gazes taking in every last detail and every last flaw.

My wrapping was good but looked to be on par with everyone else’s.

My card was a beautiful depiction of a winter day in the country, and I even used some fabric to add texture.

And my stocking…well, it was looking really good until I sewed it too close to the edge and the felt tore.

I could hear Taran’s groan from across the gym when it happened.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

And sure, I might have glanced toward Cole right before it happened because I was impressed by the way he was sewing like a fiend, so perhaps I was a touch distracted. I attempted to cover it up with a patch, but I’m not sure how the judges will take it.

Beatrice struggled. And her theme of blue and silver, although nice, doesn’t really speak to Bob Krampus, a traditional red, green, and white man through and through. I mean, I even know that at this point.

Ursula excelled in her wrapping. She did some weird technique that I’ve only ever seen done on Instagram. Those people who record themselves wrapping presents for a living? Well, she channeled them and did some double-fold technique that came out beautifully. Her card though? Average. And her stocking was a glued disaster—and I won’t even mention the glue in her hair.

Then there’s Jimmy, the threat I never saw coming. He grunted and groaned and was the most vocal of the group, but looking at what he put out on the table, I’m both worried and impressed.

He and Cole both seem to be the dark horses in today’s competition.

And the intricate, embroidered stocking…the fact that he sewed that in the time that we had. How, is the question…just how?

“Well,” Bob says as he speaks into the mic. “Can we please give our Kringle-ees a round of applause?” The crowd erupts, and I feel chills spread down my arms. Even though it was hard and there were times when I wanted to just stop what I was doing and cry, I have to admit I’m proud of myself, because I did it.

Bob gives a speech about everything we’ve gone through the last few weeks, and after what feels like several minutes, he clears his throat, ready to report the results. I want to grab Cole’s hand badly. I want to tell him that no matter what, I’m proud of us. But I keep still as I stare out at the crowd.

“In fifth place, with her blue theme, is Beatrice Pedigree.”

Yup, we all saw that coming.

“Coming in fourth…” Bob looks up at us, making eye contact with me, and I feel my heart sink. Then he says, “Ursula Kronk.”

Wow, okay, that was mean—not very Santa-y if you ask me.

“And this is where the judges struggled,” Bob continues. “We went back and forth because there were aspects of everyone’s entries that we enjoyed, so we had to turn to the flaws.”

Shit.

“Coming in third…Storee Taylor.”

Fuck!

That’s not good. How many points is that? I glance over at Taran, and she’s scribbling away in her notebook, probably calculating even as Bob continues.

“Coming in second, we have…Cole Black and his holly jolly sidekick, which means Jimmy Short is our first-place winner!”

Jimmy steps forward and raises his fists in the air as he pumps them up and down, his victory puffing his chest as he points at the woman in the front row who I now know is his ex-wife. She blows him a kiss, and he catches it while the crowd erupts.

I glance over at Cole, my disappointment making me emotional because I don’t even know if I’m in the running for first anymore.

“Now remember,” Bob says. “This competition isn’t over. We still have the town vote on who has been the most spirited of them all, and the finals of the Christmas light display. Nothing is set in stone, so the next two days matter the most. Congrats to our Kringle-ees and merry Christmas!”

Together, we all say, “Merry Christmas,” and then we start dispersing.

I turn to Cole and give him a sad look, which causes his frown to deepen.

He walks up to me. “What’s wrong?”

“I just…” I see Taran headed my way, so I say, “Meet me by the large tree over in the corner.”

He nods and takes off just as Taran closes the space between us.

“You pushed the needle too close to the edge.”

I sigh. “I know, Taran.”

“I told you not to.”

“I know,” I repeat. “But it’s way more stressful than you think.”

“You kept looking over at Cole,” she says.

“Because he was using a sewing machine. It was loud and distracting,” I say. “Who knew he could sew.”

Taran folds her arms. “Yes, that was annoying.”

“But how did Jimmy win?”

She glances over at Jimmy, who’s talking to his ex-wife. “I’m going to go inspect those entries.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’m, uh, I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

While Taran walks up to the table to do her inspection, I walk to the back corner where Cole is waiting for me. When I reach the tree, he pulls me behind it and lifts my chin so I can meet his gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

Lip quivering, I say, “I messed up my stocking and I know that’s why I came in third. Taran’s not happy, and I have no idea what the points are adding up to, but I’ve gotten third for the last three competitions and that can’t be good.”

“You’re eight points behind,” Cole says, clearly able to calculate fast. “There’s still points you can earn.”

“With our light display? Have you seen Aunt Cindy’s house? We’re not taking first with what Taran has put together.”

“It’s about improvement,” he says. “Not overall. So you might get lots of points for improving what you started with. Who knows.”

“Did you make any improvements?”

He smirks at me. “Well, we fixed the lights that were oddly out when Paula and Peach came by.” That brings a small smile to my lips. “And tomorrow morning after our Christmas Eve eve celebration, Max and I plan on putting some lights on the lawn, but nothing too fancy. If anyone has a chance for improvements, it’s you and Taran. If I were you, I’d talk to her tonight and see what you guys can do to spruce it up and work on it all day tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” I heave a sigh and then lean in to him as he wraps his strong arms around me. “God, I was so distracted by you.”

He chuckles. “Was it the sewing?”

“It was.” I look up at him, resting my chin on his chest. “The sinew in your forearms was popping as you pushed the fabric through. It was really hot.”

“Is that right? Should I sew naked for you later?”

“I would say yes, but aren’t you going to Atlas’s tonight?”

“Oh right…well, when this is all over, I’ll sew naked for you …in this thong you made me wear.”

I laugh, feeling lighter already. I slip my hand down the back of his pants, my hand passing over the thong. “I can’t believe you wore it.”

“Anything for you, Storee. Anything.”