Let It Snow

“Not elf. Teacup,” I said. “And speaking of, I need one of the holiday mugs, ’kay, Christina? You can take it out of my paycheck.” I headed toward the display shelf, but Tobin stopped me by grabbing my elbow.

“Are you the Addie who goes out with Jeb Taylor?” he asked.

That threw me. Tobin didn’t know my name, but he knew I went out with Jeb?

“I’m . . . well, um . . . ” I swallowed. “Why?”

“Because Jeb gave me a message for you. Crap, I completely dropped the ball.”

My heart whacked around in my chest. “He gave you a message? What was the message?”

Tobin turned to Angie. “I’m such an idiot. Why didn’t you remind me?”

She smiled drowsily. “That you’re an idiot? Okay: you’re an idiot.”

“Oh, that’s great, thanks,” he said. She giggled.

“The message?” I managed to say.

“Right!” he said. He turned his attention back to me. “The message was that he got delayed.”

“By cheerleaders,” Angie contributed.

“I’m sorry?”

“Cheerleaders?” Jubilee said, somewhat manically. She and Stuart came over to where we were standing. “Oh my God, cheerleaders!”

“The cheerleaders were on a train with him, only the train got stuck,” Tobin said.

“I was on that train!” Jubilee shouted. Stuart laughed the way you do when someone you love is a goofy nut. “And did you say Jeb? I gave him a microwavable pizza disc!”

“You gave Jeb a . . . what?” I said.

“’Cause of the storm?” Charlie asked.

I turned to him in a daze. “Why would she give Jeb a microwavable pizza disc because of the storm?”

“Dude, no,” he said. He hopped off his stool and pulled Bre

Tobin twitched at the word ASSHAT and looked up at Charlie like he’d seen an apparition. Then he shook it off and said, “Uh, yeah. Exactly. And then the cheerleaders abducted Jeb, because they had needs.”

Charlie laughed. “Right on.”

“Not those kind of needs,” Angie said.

“Yeah,” Bre

“What kind of needs?” I said, feeling lightheaded. In the back of my consciousness, I registered the sound of a car door shutting, and then another. In my peripheral vision, I saw Tegan and Dorrie hurrying toward the store.

“Huh,” Tobin said, and he got that inward look of his I was growing familiar with, the one that meant that no answer was forthcoming.

“Well . . . was there more?” I said, trying a different strategy.

“More what?” Tobin said.

“More to Jeb’s message!”

“Oh,” Tobin said. “Yes! Yes, there was!” The set of his jaw was purposeful, but after several seconds, he deflated. “Ah, crap,” he said.

Angie took pity on me. Her expression went from giddy to kind.

“He said he’s coming,” she said. “He said you’d know what he meant.”

My heart stopped, and the cheerful buzz of Starbucks receded. It was as if someone pressed a mute button on the outside world, or maybe what was going on inside of me was simply drowning everything else out. He said he was coming? Jeb was coming?!

A jangling penetrated my consciousness, and in my muddled state, I had the most random thought: Every time a bell rings, an angel gets her wings. Then a burst of cold air brought me back to reality, and I realized it was the bell on the door making such a clatter.

“Addie, you’re here!” Dorrie cried, barging toward me in a bright red hat.

Beside her, Tegan beamed. “And he’s here! We saw him in the parking lot!”

“I’m the one who spotted him,” Dorrie said. “He looks like he’s been out in the wilderness for days, so prepare yourself. To be perfectly honest, Sasquatch is what comes to mind. But—”

She broke off, noticing Stuart and Jubilee. “Stuart’s with a girl,” she whispered in a voice loud enough to bring down a house.

“I know!” I whispered back. I gri

“Hi, Dorrie,” Stuart said. “Hi, Tegan.” He put his arm around Jubilee and patted her shoulder, half nervously and half just plain sweetly.

“Gabriel!” Tegan squealed. She rushed over and scooped Gabriel from my arms, which was lucky, as my muscles were wobbly. My whole body was wobbly, because the bell on the door was jingling again,

and it was Jeb,

and he was a total mess,

and sobs rose inside me, and laughter, too, because he really did look like Sasquatch, with straggly hair and wind-chapped cheeks and his strong jaw shadowed with stubble.

His dark eyes darted from person to person, then landed on me. He strode over and crushed me in his arms, and I hugged him with every bit of myself. My cells sang.

“Oh, man, Addie, it’s been a crazy couple of days,” he murmured into my ear.

“Yeah?” I said, soaking in the glorious, solid realness of him.

“First my train got stuck. Then there were these cheerleaders, and we all ended up in the Waffle House, and they kept making me help them with their lifts—”

“Their lifts?” I drew back so I could see his face but kept my arms circled around him.

“And every single one of them left her phone on the train so she could focus on spirit, or something. And I tried to use the Waffle House phone, but the manager was like, ‘Sorry, no can do. Crisis mode, dude.’”

“Ouch,” Tobin said, cringing.

“See what happens when boys get obsessed with cheerleaders?” Angie said.

“Although it’s not fair to be prejudiced against all cheerleaders,” Jubilee said. “Just the ones whose names rhyme with showy. Right, Stuart?”

Stuart looked amused.

Jubilee waved at Jeb. “Hi, Jeb.”

“Julie,” Jeb said. “What are you doing here?”

“Her name’s not Julie, it’s Jubilee,” I whispered helpfully.

“Jubilee?” Jeb repeated. “Whoa.”

“No,” Christina said, and all eight of us turned to look at her. “I am the one who gets to say whoa here, and I’m saying it right now, okay?”

No one responded, so finally I said, “Uh, okay. But come on, it’s not that weird a name.”

She looked pained. “Addie,” she said, “I need you to tell me right now: Did you bring a pig into my store?”

Ohhhh. Right.

Pig in store . . . was there any way to put a spin on this?

“He’s a really cute pig,” I said. “Does that count for anything?”

Christina pointed to the door. “The pig has to go. Now.”

“Fine, fine,” I said. “I just need to give Tegan a cup to put him in.”

“Think Flobie’ll ever dip into drinkware?” Stuart said to Jubilee under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what’s that?” I said.

Giggling, Jubilee elbowed Stuart and said, “Ignore. Please.”

Dorrie stepped closer to me. “You did good, Addie,” she said. “I doubted you, but I shouldn’t have, and . . . well, you did good.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Hello?” Christina said. “Did anyone hear me when I said the pig needs to go?”

“Someone needs a refresher in customer service,” Tobin said.

“Maybe Don-Keun could help?” Angie said.

Christina glared, and Tegan stepped backward toward the door. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving!”

“Wait!” I said. I released Jeb long enough to grab a snowflake mug from the shelf, which I handed to Tegan. “For Gabriel.”

“If the regional manager stops in, I’m fired,” Christina said hopelessly. “Pigs are not part of Starbucks policy.”

“Here you go, sweetie,” Tegan said, tilting Gabriel so that he slipped into the mug. He scrabbled a bit, then seemed to realize the mug was just his size and made a decent house, actually. He sat on his haunches and oinked, and every one of us gave a collective awwww. Even Christina.

“Excellent,” Dorrie said. “Now come on, we better go before Christina plotzes.”