Page 55 of A Dye Hard Holiday

“I can’t wait!”

“You sure know how to throw a party, Joshy,” my mom said to me a few hours later as we restocked the food on the buffet tables I set out.

I looked around the room at the people I loved most in the world and smiled at their creativity. The ugly sweaters ranged from just gaudy print to reindeer taking a dump in the woods. Some of them were bedazzled with twinkling lights while others played out scenes in movies. There were ridiculous sweaters with Santa smoking a cigar while playing poker and ones adorned with fuzzy white pom-poms to look like snowballs. Our guests were laughing, eating food, and having a great time. It was exactly what the holidays were about to me, and I loved every second of it.

“Thanks, Mama. I get my flair from you.”

“You think so?”

We looked down at her sweater that looked like it was knitted with silver and gold tinsel instead of thread. Then we looked over at my dad who wore a sweatshirt with a snowman sewn on the front.

“Yeah, okay,” my mom agreed. “I’ll take credit for that.” She looped her arm around my shoulder and leaned into me. “I never would’ve thought to give the pets Christmas sweaters too though. That’s all you.”

“I couldn’t let my fur babies feel left out. Diva didn’t want any part of her shiny, bling-y sweater, and I have the claw marks to prove it. She sure as hell looks regal in it though.”

Buddy seemed to love his reindeer-themed sweater and was as docile as could be when I put the reindeer antlers on his head. Jazzy was too nervous to join a loud crowd, but my furry ferret rocked a snowman sweater in his little sanctuary. The crowning glory were the birds though. Savage rocked his knit sweater that read: Yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers. Sassy’s sweater said: Merry Christmas, you filthy animals. Gabe even taught them a few songs to sing for our guests. Somehow, Savage found a way to put his own twisted spin on things.

“I got your jingle balls right here,” Savage squawked from his cage as if he knew I was thinking about him.

“I’m going to miss you guys when we head back to Florida on New Year’s Day,” my mom told me.

“I’m going to miss you too, but you’ll be back for good in a few short weeks. Think of all the fun birthdays and holidays we’ll have in this house.”

“I never thought I’d want to move back to Blissville once we left town, but no Florida coastal view is more beautiful than my grandbabies.”

“I agree with you.”

“Why does Gabe keep peeking out the curtains?” she asked.

We didn’t tell the grandparents about the setup because one little slip of the tongue at the grocery store would ruin Gabe’s sting operation. “Um, he’s probably looking out for Santa.” We did hire Mr. Adams to show up and pass out the gifts we bought the kids.

“He’s like a giant kid at heart, Josh. I just love him to pieces.”

Gabe looked over his shoulder and our eyes connected. For that instant, the world faded away. There were no adults dressed in gaudy sweaters or kids running through the house with Buddy chasing after them. The world consisted of Gabe and me. He winked at me then returned his attention to the window.

“Me too, Mama.”

I could see disappointment building inside Gabe as the night went on without a single hit to our twelve-foot Frosty out front. He was running out of time to nab the bastards before Christmas Eve.

“Maybe all the publicity scared them into hiding.”

“Doubt it,” Gabe said. “It’s probably because there are too many cars here and they can’t be sure when someone will open the front door. I bet they…”

A brain-piercing siren split the air. The dog howled, kids screamed, and the adults pleaded for someone to turn it off. Gabe’s eyes widened with excitement as he hauled ass to the front door with Adrian fast on his heels. I knew it was the moment they’d waited for and chased after them. No way I wanted to miss out on the big takedown.

“Hold it right there, asshole,” Gabe yelled as he sprinted across the yard chasing after a person dressed in a Santa suit dragging our quickly-deflating snowman with him. The big thing was slowing them down, so they let go to run faster.

“Freeze!” Adrian yelled as he pursued a really tall elf.

Gabe and Adrian performed synchronized dive-tackles to take down Santa and his elf at the same time. The fleeing suspects went down like they’d been hit by those big dudes on one of Gabe’s favorite football teams. I thought Gabe called them linebackers, but I called them line dancers to irritate him.

“Yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers! I told you not to run,” Gabe yelled as he pinned Santa with a knee to his lower back while he slapped handcuffs on him.

“Are those candy cane hand cuffs, Cap?” Adrian asked.

Oops! It looked like Gabe grabbed the wrong pair from our bedroom.

“I have the Christmas spirit,” Gabe shot back.