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book at the head of the table.
    “Good evening, ladies. In case you don’t know who I am, I’m Maime Wellington, Chairperson
     of the Sweet Briar Christmas Decorating Committee.” Placing her hands on her hips,
     Margaret Louise’s holiday nemesis flashed what Tori imagined was a smile, but it was
     hard to be sure. It had been so slight and so fleeting it could have been a figment
     of her imagination. “If you brought ideas with you, put them aside. I’ve got more
     than enough of my own.”
    Maime shifted her appointment book to the side and began picking through the magazines,
     the momentary lull providing just enough time for Tori to glance around for any sort
     of confirmation that she wasn’t alone in her shocked confusion.
    Avery Jordan was a fairly attractive man. Not without flaws, but certainly worthy
     of a double take from women who were drawn in by pretty eyes and nice hair. His new
     live-in girlfriend, however, was an entirely different matter.
    Built like a pit bull, Maime was nearly as wide as she was tall. Her hair, which could
     best be described as the color of scorched pumpkin, was short and lifeless, providing
     an ill-fitting frame to a face that was more than a little nondescript with the lone
     exception of the dime-sized mole on the side of her nose.
    Once more, Tori placed a calming hand on Rose’s arm, only this time, instead of staving
     off a war of words, she prayed her touch would prevent a second and more noticeable
     shudder.
    Maime looked up, her dark-as-mud eyes skirting their faces with an air of hostility
     that was thinly disguised by a syrupy sweet voice more befitting a preschool teacher
     than the woman standing in front of them now. “In the interest of those, like myself,
     who despise all things hokey, this year’s Christmas in Sweet Briar is going to be
     different.”
    “Different?” Rose rasped before clearing her throat with a cough. “Different how?”
    “Different in every way possible.” Flipping her appointment book open, Maime reached
     into the built-in pocket on the inside front cover, extracted a thin stack of pictures,
     and dropped them onto the table in front of Tori, Rose, Dixie, and Leona. “We’re going
     to decorate differently and host entirely new events.”
    Maime flicked her fingers across the stack of photographs, scattering them in various
     directions. “I mean, look at the lampposts surrounding the town square. Green garland
     and red bows? Don’t you think that’s rather . . .
stale
?”
    “Nooo, I find it to be Christmas-y just like it’s supposed to be.” Dixie raked two
     or three of the pictures in for a closer look. “People in this town look forward to
     the telltale signs of the holidays. It’s a
tradition
. Just like caroling in the Gazebo, and the holiday food drive, and Santa’s ride atop
     the fire truck the week before Christmas.”
    Straightening up to her full minuscule size, Maime clapped her hands together. “And
     just like the green garland and red bows, those events will be changing as well. Out
     with the old and in with the new!”
    Rose’s jaw dropped.
    Dixie laid her head on the table.
    Leona pushed back her chair and stood, all hint of lingering shock gone in favor of
     barely restrained anger. “You can’t do this. This isn’t even your town.”
    Narrowing her eyes to near slits, Maime gave Leona a dismissive once-over. “I’m quite
     sure the postal carrier who delivers my mail each morning would beg to differ with
     that assessment.”
    “You’re living with Avery on a permanent basis then?” The beaten tone of Rose’s question
     caught Tori by surprise, prompting her to shoot a worried look in Dixie’s direction.
    But it was too late.
    Maime held up her left hand and wiggled her ring finger back and forth, the overhead
     light catching hold of the woman’s diamond ring and casting shimmering sparkles across
     the plain white walls. “I most certainly am.”
    “B-But he just met