couldnât be more perfect. Holly finished up the dishes from her baking, wiped them dry and stacked them back in the cabinet. Noel would arrive any moment and the smell of fresh baked cookies would greet her.
The doorbell rang. Holly hurried to the door to meet her tenant.
âMay I help you?â she asked the scruffy-looking man staring down at her. He moved closer filling the doorway. Spicy cologne assaulted her senses, so she took a step back.
âIâm Noel. Are you Holly?â He scratched at day-old stubble.
âWait. What? You canât be. I was expecting Noel, like Christmas, not a null, like null and void.â
âNo. Itâs not like ânull,â Noel rhymes with coal, but it is spelled n-o-e-l.â
|