Liv

Getting the neighbors onboard for my plan against Travis was easier than I thought. Especially after I told them about the state he left my daughter in.

Lisa was particularly ready to claw his eyes out. She has three daughters of her own, each just as sensitive as my Hannah. She was the first to agree to my idea.

It took a little bit of convincing to get all the men onboard, but once their wives started in on them, they were quick to change their tunes.

But the plates of cookies weren’t all I asked of them.

I’m stapling the last strand of lights on my house when he pulls into his driveway. I’ve spent all day covering every inch of my house in twinkle lights. Feeling a rush of giddiness, I carefully climb down the ladder and look around.

It isn’t just my house decked out.

Every house on the street is covered in lights, and at six o’clock this evening, Travis will get the light show of his life. Each house is painstakingly decorated and programmed to one of my favorite Christmas songs. A song that with strategically placed speakers directed toward his bedroom window, will hopefully drive him crazy.

I bounce on the balls of my feet, wishing I could see his face when everything goes down. What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on his wall. Instead, I’ll be outside in the middle of the street with my neighbors, having a mini-Christmas block party. Clark is building a large bon fire in the middle of the street, and we are setting up for hot chocolate and peppermint s’mores.

Checking my watch one last time, I carry the ladder back into the garage to get ready for the show. It takes everything in me not to look next door and sneak a glimpse of him.

I need to be strong if I’m going to win the war I’m declaring on him. Even if he is probably God’s gift to women, he made my baby girl cry, and that just isn’t acceptable.

***

“Five, four, three, two, one, zero,” we yell, counting down the seconds right before the street lights up and the music begins to play. The first sounds of the song Santa Baby fill the street, and everyone begins to sing along with it.

The sight around us is amazing, and my heart swells when Hannah leaves the group of girls she invited from school to throw her arms around my middle.

“I know I’ve been a mess, Mom,” she whispers in my ear, clinging to me tightly. “But this is seriously the coolest thing you’ve ever done.”

“Han—” I start, feeling my throat swell with emotion, but she cuts me off.

“Thank you for trying to make everything better. I know leaving our home and Daddy wasn’t easy for you.” She pulls back from me and keeps going. “We’re going to be okay, though.”

Before I can say anything, or react, she lets me go and runs back to her friends. Lisa and Trina flank either side of me, while I try to wrap my head around my daughter’s words, wondering when the hell she got so smart.

“What in the hell is going on out here?” His deep voice breaks through the merriment happening all around.

“We’re having a block party,” Lisa answers, elbowing me in the side. Since meeting these two women, we’ve become fast friends. Trina with her years of wisdom, and Lisa with her fun can-do spirit. “Want some peppermint spiked hot chocolate? It’s like Christmas in your mouth.”

She holds out the small Styrofoam cup she’s been nursing, but Travis ignores it. His wildly dark eyes have zeroed in on me, pinning me to my spot in front of him. His dark blue thermal is rolled up on his forearms, while his dark hair falls across his forehead. There is even a trace of oil across one side of his cheek. My fingers itch to reach up and touch him.

Fuck, does he always look this good? My knees shake, and I look him up and down, wondering what his Christmas in my mouth would taste like.

Stop it, I tell myself, looking for the words to acknowledge him, but I’ve got nothing. The throbbing in between my legs intensifies, and I’m half-tempted to forget this plan of revenge and beg him to. What the fuck did Trina put in this hot chocolate?

Trina elbows me in the ribs, and I sputter the first thing that comes to mind.

“Hey, neighbor, we’re having a party. Care to join us?”

I cringe, sure the words didn’t come out as casual as they sounded in my head. He watches me guardedly.

“What are you up to now?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I smile, secretly patting myself on the back. Play it cool, Olivia.

He looks around the street, and I see the reflection of each house, blinking and flickering, as he takes each one in. This has got to be a Christmas nightmare for him. Only he doesn’t seem that perturbed by it.

“Your house is looking pretty sad, Travis,” Trina pokes at him. “Are you sure you don’t want to join in the holiday fun? I’ve got those lights sitting in a box with your name on it.”

“I’ll pass,” he replies, his voice washing over me like velvet, warming my insides. I reach up and loosen the scarf around my neck, feeling a little too warm. “This is how you’re going to do this?” he asks, his eyes once again settling on me.

“Wait,” I say, breaking free of the trance he’s had on me since approaching us. “Do you think this party has something to do with you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” he retorts, but not before crossing his arms. I lick my lips, ignoring the way his arms bulge and stretch against the material of his shirt.

“Someone’s ego needs checking,” Lisa singsongs, bringing her drink to her lips. I snort, unable to hold back my laughter.

“Look, I don’t care what everyone’s doing out here, or about this light show that’s sprung up overnight. But I’m gonna tell you all, no more cookie deliveries.” He doesn’t wait for a response but turns around and heads back into his dark home, nestled cozily amongst the array of Christmas lights and joy.

Everyone around bursts out laughing, regaling their cookie delivery trips to his house. I wonder what he’s done with all the cookies. There was a mountain of them this afternoon when I arrived home with Hannah. It doesn’t matter what he says, though; the cookie deliveries will continue. I’m not the only one who’s enjoying messing with him, and even if I could get them all to stop, I wouldn’t.

But for a moment, I can’t help but feel a little bit sorry for him. How someone can hate the happiest time of the year isn’t something I’m able to understand.