“The doorbell rang.”
“Are you sure? I didn’t hear anything. Maybe I should just…”
“No, Margie. The doorbell rang. Give them a minute to answer.”
Margaret frowned at her husband. With the big red plaid coat and thick white beard – and even that goofy Santa hat – Bill was considerably better dressed for the weather. She shivered and brushed her hands briskly up and down her burgundy coat.
The strains of ‘Deck the Halls’ drifted out from within the house.
The pitter patter of small feet came closer at high-speeds, and, with a squeal of maniacal laughter, one of their grandsons rammed full-tilt into the front door before running off.
Margaret rang the doorbell again.
Bill gave an impatient sigh, and tested the door knob.
With relief, they hurried inside. Exhausted from the drive, they settled down beside the merrily crackling fireplace without announcing themselves, and soon fell fast asleep.
“MOOOOM! Santa and Missus Santa are DEAD!!!”
Margaret and Bill snapped awake and stared in surprise at the shrill little girl.
From the kitchen, a woman yelled, “Suze, remember what I told you about lying? Santa doesn’t bring gifts to little girls who tell lies!”
“They’re ALIVE!” the little girl shrieked, delighted. “They’re Alive, they’re alive!”
Margaret and Bill exchanged horrified looks. They only had grandsons.
The woman who strode through the door was most certainly not their daughter.
Margaret asked, “1212 Partridge Street?”
“1212 Partridge TRAIL, actually,” the woman replied, pointing furiously towards the door, and Bill and Margaret beat a hasty retreat.
“Noooo!” the little girl wailed, “SANTA!”
“Santa has to go visit the other naughty children. You’d better clean up your act if you want any presents.”
Margaret turned to her husband. “The hat goes.”
As they drove away, snow began to fall.
This is my first attempt at contributing to the Write on Edge’s Red Writing Hood writing prompt. The prompt was to write a short piece beginning with The Doorbell Rang and ending with Snow began to fall that involves the holidays.