A Christmas to Dismember by Addison Moore (best desktop ebook reader TXT) 📕

being my ever-faithful husband. And being a longtime fan of the aforementioned show, I wasn’t about to say no. I invited my mother to come along, and since Juni and Georgie were at the shop, too, they hopped on board for the leg-kicking express.

We ante up at the front and make our way inside the dimly lit theater with its crimson plush carpeting and walls covered in purple damask. Bodies file in along with us as the crowd rushes to get into their seats. We head over to the coat check and turn in our winter duds, thrilled to expose our holiday attire to one another. I’m still as excited today as I was when I was six over a fancy number to wear on the big day.

Mom and I have each donned a bright red dress—hers being a touch fancier than mine. Georgie has on a red and green tie-dyed kaftan that has already garnered a few stray looks, but Juni is the star, or should I say, spectacle of the show in a short silver number that looks as if it’s comprised entirely of tinsel.

“Juni—” Mom gasps, and I’m not sure this is a good thing. Ree Baker has been known to speak her mind a time or twenty, and my father mentioned it was a large variable in his matrimonial disappearing act. “You’re like a homing beacon for lost ships.” She shields her eyes with her arm and squints for effect. “You’d better sit next to Georgie or I might lose some eyesight tonight. Let’s hope no one has a seizure. Did you get that dress off the rack or off a Christmas tree?”

Juni openly frowns at my mother. “You’re just loaded with them tonight, ain’t ’cha, Ree Ree? I’ll have you know, I picked this little number up at Elora’s Closet when I drove by this afternoon.” She looks to Georgie and me. “Since you two were rude enough not to include me in on the testosterone fun yesterday, I thought I’d run by and see if there were any leftovers I could scoop up. But the next singles mingle isn’t until Valentine’s Day. Lord knows all my bits and pieces are liable to dry up by then, so I thought I’d seize the moment. When you’re my age, every day is Valentine’s Day.”

Georgie leans in. “The day you sit home alone, binge-watching rom-coms while eating Cherry Garcia straight out of the carton?”

“You betcha.” Juni gives a curt nod along with her response.

“You and me both, sister,” Mom says “And to be honest? I’ve liked my Cherry Garcia more than I’ve cared for most of the men I’ve dated.”

Georgie shakes her head. “Desperate times call for desperate mothers.” She snaps her fingers. “I say we set a goal. The three of us are going to have hot dates for Valentine’s Day this year. That gives us two months to find a trio of men willing to play the part of Mr. Chocolate Hearts and Billionaire Brains.”

Mom rolls her eyes. “You mean Mr. Right Now.”

“Let’s hold out for the good stuff, Prep.” Georgie gives Mom a pat on the arm. “Are chocolate hearts, brains, and billions too much to ask of the universe?”

Mom gives a long blink. “Not if you’re living in another solar system. I doubt a man like that exists in ours, let alone three of them.”

A man wearing a dark navy suit with a magenta colored tie catches my eyes from across the crowded foyer.

It’s him! Arthur Silver.

I recognize that odd hairstyle of his with the shorn look in the back and the moppet up front. He’s handsome enough as he laughs while carrying on a conversation with a man who looks suspiciously just like him. Same hair, similar features. The man he’s with is currently waving a line of girls in white robes through a door. And each of those women has her hair pulled back into a low bun, copious amounts of makeup on, and I’m pretty sure they’re our entertainment for the evening.

“Save a seat for me,” I say to my mother before threading my way through the crowd before I lose him.

But I don’t lose him. Thankfully, the two men are still locked in an active conversation by the time I arrive and I end up milling around next to them awkwardly. The last of the robed girls dashes through the door, and I step in her place just as the man Arthur is speaking to waves me in close.

His eyes ride up and down my body and he frowns as he glances at my clothes. “Honey, you’re late.”

My mouth opens as I look to Arthur. “Actually, can I speak with you for a moment?” Arthur has a warmth about him, despite his cheesy smile and that lusty look on his face. His cheeks are covered with dark stubble, and it gives him a bit of a bad boy appeal.

“Not now,” the man snips as he ushers me into the room right along with them. “You can talk to my brother after the show. Get to hair and makeup and make it snappy.”

“Oh, actually—” I hold up a finger just as a woman dressed in a red T-shirt and green velvet pants yanks me over and gives me a small bag before instructing me to change. I give a quick glance around the well-lit room littered with white robes lying in puddles. Up front there are rows of mirrors lined with clear bright bulbs and seats centered in front of each and every one. Dozens of women are standing around, and each one of them is wearing the same red skimpy dress piped with white feathers—a naughty rendition of a Mrs. Claus costume, I’m guessing.

“Where exactly would I be changing?”

“Right here.” The woman in the velvet pants points to the floor, and I give another quick glance around the vicinity.

Arthur and his brother are off to the side, while another girl rushes in and gets dressed right beside me. So