The Christmas Pundit (Laurel Holidays #2) by V.L. Locey

Author:V.L. Locey
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Published: 2020-12-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

November raced by in a blur of holiday preparation, fundraising madness, and trying my best to not let my lips come in contact with Gideon’s. It was proving to be one of the hardest things I’d ever set my mind to simply because of his constant proximity. He was at every meeting, his face right there with his lips on his face. Concentrating on anything with him at the same table was impossible which vexed me terribly. Thankfully, there were more than a few things going on as we sailed smack dab into Thanksgiving week. There was a silent auction set up for the weekend at the gym in the elementary school.

Aubrey, Mara, and me, as well as a slew of volunteers, had been madly scrambling to pull in donations from local businesses. I’d reached out to all my fellow neighbors both here in Northcentral Pennsylvania and in New York State begging for help to expand our carnival. They’d all promised support in whatever way they could, which wasn’t much, as they were as cash strapped as we were. Funnily they all managed to chip in enough money to bribe me into the polar bear plunge event taking place on Black Friday out at Skip Miller’s farm. There was no way I could turn down close to a thousand dollars. The thought of leaping into a farm pond that already had a skim of ice on it wasn’t appealing at all. Gideon was thrilled though, the masochistic ass.

“I’ll match whatever funds are raised to see the mayor take a plunge!” he’d announced in the paper as a dare I was sure. Also to make sure I didn’t back out, which I wouldn’t have, but now I had to do it or wither away in humiliation. Chin up and all that I kept telling myself as the plunge grew nearer.

Sitting back with a belly full of chili, I now had a decision to make. Over fifty Cedarburg residents had joined in the chili cookoff. We’d raised over four hundred dollars in entry fees, and any sales of chili after the event went into the Christmas Carnival kitty. I was humbled and thankful beyond words for the way my small town had leaped into this endeavor. We were still a long way off our goal, but we had a couple of weeks left. The fundraising committee were hopeful that now that the holidays were about to officially begin we’d get more cash to play with. I had the horse and buggy/sleigh company on stand-by.

I burped softly behind my hand, sleepy and content, and went to work on the official judging card for the chili cookoff. I knew who my winner would be, good old Berger Mason, whose venison chili had knocked my socks off. Second place choice was Margie Links, and third place would have to go to Gideon Pierce. Who was even now standing beside his crockpot of chili, so spicy hot that my eyeballs began to sweat after a small taste, talking to Berger while his gaze lingered on me.

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