“Where?” Jean asked.

I took another drink of the Tom and Jerry Myra had made from scratch from the family recipe. It had just a splash of bourbon in it to cut the thick, sweet warm milk and nutmeg, and it warmed me all the way down.

The music was playing softly in the background, Ryder’s arm was draped over my shoulder, the house was decorated in that cozy but classy way that only Myra seemed to be able to pull off.

If I decorated like her, it would end up looking like I was living in a garage sale.

“Aaron’s patio at the back of his nursery,” I said.

Aaron was the owner of the garden shop. He was also the god of war, Ares, who up until a few months ago, was vacationing here.

Since he was gone, we kept an eye on his property for him.

“Doesn’t seem like much of a hiding place,” Hogan, Jean’s boyfriend, said.

The baker had had a drink or two, and he and Jean were cuddled up on the loveseat, both wearing hideous holiday sweaters. Hogan had accessorized with a pair of felt reindeer horns that flashed red and green.

Jean wore a hat shaped like a Christmas tree, lights and all. Apparently, it also sang.

Apparently, Myra had yanked the batteries out of the “obnoxious thing” after hearing Oh, Christmas Tree on repeat for an hour straight.

Apparently, Myra was “no fun” but since she “made a boss Tom and Jerry” the Christmas tree hat had remained silent.

“They weren’t trying to hide it, not really.” I shifted and Ryder tucked me in a little closer to his chest.

He was quiet, relaxed, and looked right at home with his stockinged feet propped up on Myra’s coffee table.

His bruises were just bruises, and the knock on the head was not a concussion.

As accidents went, he had been very, very lucky.

“They wanted the pictures on the blog for Christmas?” Myra asked.

“I think that’s what they were going for. This had to have taken some time and more than one person. They set up a whole holiday scene, using a bunch of the other statues on his lot complete with Christmas tree, a menorah, and a kinara and corn. Here.”

I leaned forward and Ryder sighed at the loss of contact, his fingers drifting down my back as I pulled my phone off the table.

I hadn’t gone home to change, since the penguin hunt had taken so long. They’d waited on me for dinner, which was nice of them.

Dinner was delicious and perfect because Myra had inherited almost all the cooking genes in our family.

I leaned back into Ryder. He grunted softly in contentment.

I scrolled through my photos to the pictures I’d taken of the concrete gathering, held it up for Ryder. He chuckled.

“They went all out,” he agreed.

“Lemme see.” Jean made grabby hands, and I relinquished my phone.

She made big fake wide eyes in big fake surprise. “Look at that Hogan. All those statues doing all those holiday things. How cute is that? They even remembered Kwanza.”

“Mmm-hmmm.” He planted a kiss somewhere below the boughs of her hat and then grinned at her over her shoulder. “Kwanza doesn’t get nearly enough representation here in Ordinary.”

Okay, they were being totally suspicious.

“Here, Myra. Look at what those awful vandals did.” Jean waggled my phone toward Myra who was giving Jean and Hogan a narrow-eyed glare.

“Was the lock broken?” Myra asked me even though she wasn’t looking away from Jean.

I wasn’t looking away from Jean either.

“No. Whoever did it had a key to the gate.”Jean had a key to the gate. We all kept keys to the businesses the no-longer-vacationing gods had left behind.

“Probably just some high school kids finding some other way into the place.” Jean waved, then dropped back against Hogan.

She threaded her fingers between his hands where they were clasped on her waist.

I studied their fingers. Dark against creamy white. Their knuckles looked a little abraded. Like maybe they’d been moving heavy concrete statues around in the middle of the night.

“Oh, for real?” I groaned. “Jean, tell me you were not involved in theft, breaking and entering, and trespassing last night.”

“I plead the Fifth.”

“Why?” I moaned. “I spent hours looking for that penguin. In the rain. In the cold. On Christmas Eve!”

She shrugged. “They were already there doing their thing. And, no, I’m not going to rat them out. So we just helped them get it all set up.”

“We, babe?” Hogan asked. “I guess it’s the Fifth for me too, Reed ladies.”

I shook my head in disappointment.

“They were supposed to take pictures and get the penguin home before dark,” Jean said. “Probably the storm got in the way.”

“I can not believe this. Haven’t you had enough with yard statues? Remember the gnome debacle? Two month ago. Involving zombies?”

Jean wrinkled her nose at me. “Do not mention the gnome-zombie debacle. Hogan still has Abner’s head on the dash of his car.”

“Ew,” Myra said.

Hogan ran his fingers through Jean’s red and green hair. “He won’t be alive again until next October. Why not let him see things around town until then?”

“Nice,” Ryder said.

I opened my mouth to get us back on the subject of Jean and Hogan being any part of the penguin kidnapping, but Jean talked right over whatever I was about to say.

“You know Mrs. Yates loves that penguin being a star, no matter what she says. It makes her feel young and special. All that attention. All those tourists coming by to catch a glimpse of the famous penguin in her yard with the flower beds she likes to fuss over. If someone hadn’t stolen it for a big Christmas photo-op, she would have been disappointed.”

“Rule breaker,” Ryder noted with a yawn.

“Settle down, Mr. Warden. I didn’t break any actual contracts.”

“Theft is illegal,” Myra pointed out.

“One, I didn’t steal it, I just found the people who did. Two, Are you going to arrest your sister on Christmas Eve for being a part of a community building exercise?”

From the look on Myra’s face, she was thinking pretty seriously about it.

“You’ll tell me who did it,” I said. “All the people involved in this little ‘community building exercise’.”

Jean sighed noisily. “Fine. Yes, boss.”

“We’re going to talk to them and their parents, if necessary. Make them apologize to Mrs. Yates and pay any damages she asks for. We can’t let something like this slide. That was private property, Jean.”

She made a rude noise. “I was very stern with them as we were arranging the photo shoot. Told them I disapproved of their shenanigans, but that I’d let it pass this once, because it was Christmas and it was going to make an awesome picture. They really did promise to get the penguin home safely.”

Ryder’s fingers had shifted so that he could brush the side of my shoulder. I didn’t know if he realized he was petting me, but it felt so good, I didn’t tell him to stop.

“Please tell me you’re not going to make me call them on Christmas Eve,” Jean said. “Can’t we just put it off a bit?”

“I think we can address it after the holidays,” I said.

Jean lit up like a string of lights.

“Is the picture on the blog yet?” Ryder asked.

I nudged him. My sister did not need any encouragement.

Jean grinned. “Wanna see?” She bounded out of Hogan’s arms to find her tablet before any of us could answer.

“I thought you’d be a better influence on her,” I groused at Hogan.

He just spread his hands wide and smiled. “Come now, Delaney. I thought you knew me better.”

The twinkle of wicked mischief in his eyes was irresistible.

I chuckled. “At least try to rein in her worst tendencies.”

“I do,” he said with mock seriousness. “You should have seen the hat she wanted to buy you.”

Ryder snorted at that, then Jean showed up with the pictures and excitedly read us the blog post.

I had to admit it, that little penguin wearing a baggy Santa hat that drooped over one eye, surrounded by concrete Buddha, frogs, fairies, elephants, Bigfoot, and an octopus doing yoga, looked pretty darn cute.

They’d strung the whole scene with Christmas lights and candles, greenery stuffed in just the right places to somehow make the gathering feel both whimsical and sweet.

Like we were looking in on a little moment when the yard statues all got together in the cold and storm of winter to remind each other of friendship, happiness, and love.

Okay, maybe I was reading too much into the scene, but at the very least, it was cute, fun, and festive.

“Has the blog gotten any comments yet?” Hogan asked.

Yeah, I could see how hard he was working not to encourage her.

Jean scrolled for a minute. “About a hundred. Oh, here’s a good one: ‘Darling photo, but remember, even little penguins like to stay safe at home during the winter windstorms. Merry Christmas, Mrs. Y.’”

Mrs. Yates.

“That doesn’t sound angry,” Ryder said with another huge yawn.

Jean made a sound. “I told you, she loves this stuff.”

“Mmmm.” He leaned forward, his arm wrapping around my waist, his head tipping down to rest against my shoulder.

He had to be exhausted. “Did you sleep today?” I asked.

“Some.”

“Some?”

I could feel him smile against my shoulder. “I did some Christmas stuff.”

“Like what? We already have a tree. And a dragon. Merry Christmas.”

“Your gift was in the truck. And that dragon is not my responsibility. It ate my welcome mat.”

“You went shopping? You drove?”

“Gnawed on a corner or swallowed the whole mat?” Hogan wanted to know.

“The entire mat in one gulp. It was startling.”

“Testify,” Hogan agreed.

“Tell me you didn’t drive,” I said.

“I didn’t drive. Jean helped me.”

Jean grinned and flicked us a thumbs-up.

My cheeks went a little warm. “Ryder, you didn’t have to go out and buy me a gift when you’re injured.”

“It’s Christmas, Delaney,” he mumbled, only half-awake. “Worth it.”

He was getting heavy against my back. I shifted us so that he was resting against the couch.

He pulled me close, wrapping around me like he was afraid I’d walk out when he wasn’t looking.

We really had been apart for too long.

The rest of the evening was spent talking with my sisters and Hogan.

As was our tradition, our promise to each other, we drank and nibbled on cookies, fudge, and toffee Hogan had made, and gazed at the Christmas tree covered in softly pulsing lights.

Myra had an angel atop her tree.

It was peaceful. The music soft and soothing, the company my favorite in the whole world.

And then, when it was midnight, we followed through with our other tradition.

It was a family thing passed down from our great-great grandparents. And as long as at least two Reeds were in the same room together at midnight on Christmas Eve, we’d always done it.

We joined hands, held our breath, and made a wish that could last for exactly however long we held our breath.

I wish joy, peace, health and love for all those within Ordinary, especially Ryder, who might or might not love me, but whom I love with all my breath, all my heart, all my soul.

We all exhaled, except for Jean who held up one finger and squeezed her eyes shut, nodding along with whatever list of wishes she was rapid-firing her way through.

She did that every year.

She finally let out a burst of air, and Hogan chuckled, then tipped toward her and kissed her lips.

“Can’t wait to find out what that was all about,” he murmured against her mouth.

“Can’t wait for you to,” she said.

“No snow,” I warned.

She made kitten eyes. “Would I wish for snow on Christmas?”

“Yes,” we all said in tandem.

She laughed. “Well, I’m not telling because then whatever I wished for won’t come true. And believe me, I really, really want it to come true.”

From the look she was giving Hogan, and from the look he gave her back, I had a good feeling a few of those wishes were going to come true tonight. I guess it paid to have a half-Jinn as a boyfriend.

“Ready?” Ryder squeezed my hand. I realized I hadn’t let go of his yet.

“I’ll drive,” I said.

We all wished each other a Merry Christmas, said our good-byes, and hugged as if we were seeing each other off to a new adventure in a faraway land.

And maybe we were. Because it was officially Christmas day, and that was a day when wishes came true, right?

A tall dark and dashing figure walked down the sidewalk then right up to Myra’s porch, pausing on the stairs.

Bathin.

Myra crossed her arms over her chest. Bathin held up a bottle of wine and said something I couldn’t hear.

She paused, then shrugged and stepped aside to let him in. I caught her eye, but she just waved me off.

Well, well, well. Could there be something more going on between these two than Myra trying to find a way to get rid of him?

I hesitated. Maybe I should stay and make sure she was okay. No. I knew whatever the demon wanted, she could handle it.

“Merry Christmas, Delaney!” Jean called out.

“No snow,” I said again as Jean slid into Hogan’s car.

She just laughed. “Good-night, Scrooge.”