Harold was the first to greet Henry as he joined his family. “Henry, my boy.” He eased down on his knees and nearly crushed his grandson’s ribs with his enthusiasm. “That was the best show I’ve ever seen in my sixty-eight years.”
“Thanks, Gramps,” Henry said between squeezes.
Mona hip-checked Harold out of the way. “My turn.” She giggled as she hugged Henry and peppered his face with kisses, leaving bright red lip prints in her wake. “Best performance I’ve seen. Oscar-worthy.”
Henry pulled free and received a fist bump from Josie. He looked skeptical at his sister. “How was I?”
“Kicked ass, like I knew you would.” She ruffled his black hair before stepping back and allowing their parents to envelop Henry.
“Hen,” Ginny gushed as she hugged her son and husband.
Max rambled his praise until Henry got embarrassed and wiggled free. “Thanks,” he said, straightening his sweater and wiping Mona’s lipstick marks off his cheeks. “Can we eat now?”
“Yeah, buddy. We can eat now.” Max draped his arm around Henry’s shoulders and led the way to the exit. They had plans to go to the diner and celebrate with whatever Henry wanted—which would likely involve copious amounts of bacon.
As they approached the exit, Buckeye Falls’ favorite troublemaker stepped forward. Mrs. Sanders stopped their exit, lifting her cane to block the door. Despite the festive occasion, she was dressed in black and looked ready for a funeral to break out. “Merry Christmas,” she said, her greeting warm despite theLord of the Ringsroutine.
Everyone smiled and returned the greeting. “What can we do for you, Mrs. Sanders?” Ginny asked, already fearing the answer. The woman was approximately three hundred years old, and she’d spent nearly all of those years stirring up trouble.
“It’s supposed to snow on Christmas Eve.” She said this with a hint of malice, like a witch in a children’s fairy tale.
Max seemed undeterred. “Oh yeah?”
Mrs. Sanders swept a gnarled hand through the air. “Yes. Edna woke up with a kink in her neck this morning. Agnes said she hasn’t felt her thumbs since Sunday night. I have swelling in my ankles, so we estimate the blizzard will arrive in time to muck up everyone’s holiday plans.”
Mona, never one to question the weather predictions of the elderly, covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh dear. We’re supposed to drive up to Cleveland on Christmas Eve.”
Mrs. Sanders frowned. “Might want to change your plans, Mona. You and Harold don’t want to mess with that.” She waved her other hand through the air, as if conjuring the snowflakes herself.
Harold, more pragmatic, tucked Mona against his side and smiled at Mrs. Sanders. “Thanks for the forecast, but I think we’ll be all right. I haven’t seen a word about this on the Weather Channel.”
“The Weather Channel?” Mrs. Sanders threw her head back and barked. “Those hacks wouldn’t know a hurricane if it blew up their asses.”
Henry and Josie both snickered, earning a poke from Ginny. “Maybe Agnes should have those numb fingers looked at?” she suggested, sidestepping the older woman and creating an opening for her kids to escape.
“Pfft, that old girl is fine. When her digits get tingly, we know snow is coming.”
“All the same,” Ginny said with a frown.
Max shook Mrs. Sanders’s hand and wished her a Merry Christmas for the third time before she finally stepped aside. Mona nibbled on her nails as they crossed the parking lot. “I’ll check my phone in the car. If it’s going to be bad, maybe we shouldn’t go to Tommy’s?”
Harold chuckled, still unconvinced that anything other than sunshine was headed their way. “I’m telling you, dear. It’s going to be fine.”
All talk of snow ended when they got to the diner. Evan was working that night, and he had a tower of bacon waiting on a plate for Henry when they arrived. “Here comes the man of the hour!”
CeCe wheeled out from the kitchen on Max’s office chair. She was clad in her biggest chef’s tunic, which strained under her belly. “Dude! I heard you slayed it.” She clapped and whistled as they all poured into the corner booth.
Ginny pointed at CeCe’s makeshift wheelchair. “Do I want to know?”
Max joined them, pulling off his coat with an eye roll directed at his favorite coworker. “You’ve got to be kidding me. This is hardly bed rest ...or OSHA approved.”
Evan rested his hands on his wife’s shoulders and sighed. “This is the best I could do. I left her at home in a pillow fort with her favorite movie playing and a box of Lucky Charms. Twenty minutes later I get an Uber alert that my ride was here.”
CeCe shrugged. “I couldn’t sit there another minute, plus I’d already drank all the milk. You know I hate dry cereal. So, I thought I’d come see how the show went, and I knew you’d be pissed if I drove myself. Really, I was being responsible.”
Ginny was incredulous. “So you took an Uber for a five-minute drive?”
“It’s called compromising, Ginny.” CeCe stuck her tongue out, earning a laugh from the group.
