Page 41 of Jingle Spells

“I . . . Where am I?” His voice had gone oddly flat. “What’s happening? Who are you people?”

The town line, Delilah thought. We just crossed it.

“Hey, buddy.” Nate stepped in smoothly. “Remember me? I’m, um, a visiting archivist from uh, Schoharie County . . .”

Scarlett turned to her sister and mouthed, Schoharie County, what the hell?!

“We’re helping these ladies with their research about Christmas traditions in casinos?”

“You . . . I . . . We are?” Jasper blinked several times. “That doesn’t sound like something I’d⁠—”

“For the clerk’s office historical records,” Delilah added quickly. “Very important documentation project.”

“Oh! Yes, of course. Documentation. Of course.” Jasper nodded in that eager way people have when they’ve got no idea what’s happening but dread the idea of getting caught out. He pulled a small notebook from his pocket. “Should I be taking notes? That entrance shows a fascinating mix of neo-brutalist and⁠—”

“Maybe later,” Scarlett interrupted. “Come on!”

Inside the lobby, the shiny marble floor was overlaid with holiday-themed carpeting. On each side of the reservation desk stood enormous nutcrackers with magician’s capes slung over their shoulders. Their painted-on smiles managed to look somehow festive and threatening at the same time, like Ted Bundy at an office Christmas party. A group of middle-aged tourists in matching holiday sweaters, likely down from Maine or Vermont for a wild weekend of penny slots and all-you-can-eat prime rib, posed for photos in front of a massive Christmas tree. But all that kitsch took second place to the lobby’s main spectacle: an Elvis impersonator in a gold spangly jumpsuit gyrated atop a platform beside the reservation desk. He warbled “Blue Christmas” along with an appallingly loud karaoke machine. A bundle of mistletoe hung conspicuously over his head.

The sisters stopped abruptly and stared up at Elvis. Papa’s favorite, especially the Christmas albums. It was as though Time itself had frozen them to the spot.

After a verse or two, Scarlett squeezed her sister’s arm. “I miss him too, you know.”

Del tore her gaze away from Elvis and looked into her sister’s eyes. “I’m sure you do. But . . . I don’t know, it always seemed so much easier for you and Luna. Even Mama. I’ve never understand why that was.”

“It’s not easy for me, Del. It’s not. More than a decade, and the sadness still jumps out at me sometimes. Like somebody hiding in the shadows in a bad horror movie. I mean, sometimes I can remember Papa and just feel happy. But other times, it’s like . . .” She trailed off.

Delilah studied her sister as if for the first time. “I thought it was just me.”

Scarlett smiled, a little sadly. “Mmm, maybe you decided it was just you. But on the other hand, I’m the one who left, remember? How could you know how I felt? Wasn’t like I stuck around long enough to show anybody.”

“We should talk about him more, Scar. It always felt like Mama wanted to box up all the memories and just move on.”

“Ehh, I think that’s just her trying to be the tough guy. You’re right—we should talk about him more. But at this particular moment . . .” Scarlett gestured at the casino. “Maybe for now we focus on this?”

“Sure, let’s do your plan.” It was a bad plan, Delilah knew, but it felt good to be teaming up with Scarlett. She gave her younger sister a playful sock on the arm. “No time like the present to stroll right into a trap.”

“Not a trap, Del.”

Delilah snorted. “Reckon we’re about to find out.”

They moved together toward the casino proper: islands of slot machines and gaming tables stretching as far as the eye could see. Slot machines played “Let It Snow” when someone hit a winning combination; their electronic bells mixed with the constant drone to create a demented holiday Muzak. Grouchy blackjack dealers wore elf costumes complete with jingling bells that tinkled as they handled cards with a ruthless efficiency.

Scarlett nudged her sister, a big grin on her face. “Del, you remember the last time we were in a casino? You had a very different reaction to the hubbub compared to now! Back then, you just about shat yourself, if I remember correctly.”

Much as she firmly believed they were standing in the middle of a huge mistake, Delilah had to grin at the memory. “Sure, but that was over a year ago. At the time I’d never been anywhere. I’ve seen some things since then.”

“Oh, I remember,” Nate piped up. “That was when you guys took a portal to Vegas! You were chasing that magician . . . that guy, uh, whatshisface.”

“Maximillian the Magnificent.” Scarlett nodded.

“Maximillian! That was him. With the ever-changing accents. That guy was hilarious.”

Delilah frowned. “He was a spy, Nate. A filthy dirty rotten spy, bent on destroying our town.”

“Funny dude, though, that’s all I’m saying.” He turned to Jasper, as if to justify himself a little bit. “Max had this great trick with a rabbit—it was very funny.”

“Oh my gods, I’d almost forgotten about him!” Delilah whirled around to face her sister. “Is Quentin okay?”