When Otto got home, his father, Ray, was standing on the front lawn. It looked like he'd been waiting there for a while.
"Where were you all morning?" Ray demanded of his son.
"I was at school, Raymundo," Otto replied.
"What were you doing at school? I need you to help me set up our traditional Christmas light display."
Otto groaned inwardly. Setting up the lights always took hours. Ray handed Otto several tangled strings of lights. His job was to untangle the lights and check each tiny bulb. If one bulb was burnt out, the entire strand wouldn't work.
Once all the strands of lights were untangled and inspected, Ray took over. Otto's teeth chattered as he watched Ray wind the colored lights around the deck railing. Then the white icicle lights were put on the gutters.
"Otto, can you go get the reindeer and the Santa Claus?" Ray called from the ladder.
"Sure thing." Any excuse to be in the warmth of the house was fine by him. Then he remembered Ray kept that stuff in the basement, which was drafty, even in warmer weather.
Otto had to make several trips to and from the basement and yard. There were six reindeer (which had to be carried two at a time), plus Santa and his sleigh. After lining up the reindeer and seating Santa in the sleigh, Otto started to go back into the house.
"Didn't you used to have a snowman too?" questioned a female voice.
Otto turned to see who had spoken. Standing on the sidewalk was a short, skinny girl. Thick, curly, honey-colored hair fell just past her jaw line. It was slicked back, turned under over her ears. Her skin was permanently tanned, probably due to the fact she was exactly fifty percent Native American.
Val had cat-shaped blue eyes and a slightly upturned nose. Presently, her hands were stuffed in the pocket of a navy blue hooded sweatshirt; the phrase Wossamotta U was printed in gold across the front.
The girl was unmistakably his cousin, Valencia Lightning. (Otto had discovered at a young age, however, that calling her Valencia was a bad idea. He'd begun calling her "Val" after she'd taken a few swipes at him).
Val cocked an eyebrow. "Not still holding a grudge, are you?" she asked a little too coolly.
She was already in unfavorable standing with Otto, but now she was on thin ice. That summer, she'd beaten Otto in the Ocean Shores Junior Classic surf competition, a loss his ego was still smarting over.
"You're charming today," Val said sarcastically.
She picked up her luggage: a red backpack and sky-blue camo print duffel bag and walked into the house. She had to come back out for her surfboard, two skateboards (a regular size for street and a longboard for downhill), a pair of blades, and a hockey stick. Judging by the amount of stuff she'd brought, this wasn't going to be a short visit.