Teddi My Love: An Evergreen, Oregon Teen Romance

By Mattie Fern Worrix

This year at Christmas, 14-year-old Holly Anne Peterson has her tinsel in a tangle.

 

Her mother is driving her crazy, that stupid life-size singing Santa is getting on her last nerve, and then, to top it all off, cute Shane Roberts shows up — sure to break her heart.

 

Thank goodness for Teddi, her beloved Great Dane. Without Teddi, Holly Anne just might not make Santa's "Nice" list this Christmas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mattie Fern Worrix
• Release date: Sep 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201822804

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Copyright Notice

Copyright 2021 Mattie Fern Worrix

All Rights Reserved

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

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Don’t get your tinsel in a tangle.

~ spotted on an ugly Christmas sweater

Chapter 1 - Holly Anne

Sprawled on the wooden floor of the outside storage unit, I shoved a dark green tote out of my way and lunged for the polar bear stuffie crammed in Teddi’s mouth.

Drop, I said, in my firm mom voice. She just stood there, standing over me with her brown eyes twinkling, and clamped down tighter on the toy until I heard her snort.

That made me giggle and ruined my don’t mess with Mom schtick.

Sit, I ordered, and scooted closer to her. When she finally sat, I blew in her face and she immediately let go, and wagged her tail so hard it created a little breeze in the horse stall-size storage area.

I pulled my fleece-lined jean jacket tighter around my neck, because even inside this supposedly temperature-controlled storage unit it feels a bit nippy today.

And Teddi’s bullwhip tail doesn’t help.

I have no idea why it works to blow in her face like that, but it always does. I cupped my hand and blew into it. Who knows? Maybe I’ve got really bad breath and don’t know it. Think about it--I mean, it’s got to be pretty stinky if I can out-bad breath someone with dog breath.

It was so funny the last time my aunt visited and accidentally dropped her partial plate as she came out of the bathroom in her pajamas. As the dentures fell, Teddi blasted forward like she’d been shot out of a cannon and snatched them up faster than a grounder at a Volcanoes game.

And of course she made me and Aunt Fiona (Auntie Fi--who lost a few teeth when she crashed her Harley) chase her all around the house before we caught her and made her sit so I could blow in her face.

Teddi finally spit out the partial plate--and, thank goodness, she didn’t break anything.

And thank goodness for Efferdent.

Good girl, I said, with a grunt as she plopped all 125 pounds of her in my lap. It’s funny because that’s about what I weigh too. I reached up and scratched her behind one ear.

Which always makes me kinda cringe when I touch her there, because the people who owned her before I adopted her from the animal shelter believed in cropping a Great Dane’s ears.

It feels like such a tiny weird flap of leather when what should be there is a big beautiful floppy ear. Nature made her that way and, to be honest, I feel bad about her being cut like that.

I know, I know. Lots of owners and breeders still crop ears and tails on dogs but it’s a practice I think should be discontinued. Just my own humble opinion.

As I cuddled her in my lap, I looked around the storage unit.

Good grief, I muttered, and sighed at the dozen plus totes, filled with holiday decorations, I still needed to go through.

But I was grateful for one thing.

At least Teddi and I were able to get the heck out of the Inn for a while. When Mom sent me out to get more Christmas stuff from the outside storage I had a hunch something was up. And then, as Teddi and I were slipping out the side door, I heard my mom whispering loudly in the kitchen with my dad, so I knew something was brewing.

Okay, I confess, in the interest of transparency (and since gossip travels fast at the Inn via our housekeeper, Gemma, who is a really nice lady, but let’s just say her loose lips could sink an entire fleet of ships).

I already knew that our popular cook, Chef Wyatt, has a family emergency back in Boise, Idaho and plans to take an extended leave of absence.

And, as the gossip goes, I guess he delivered that bomb just after he’d cooked that delicious Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday here. As he hung up his white apron and hat, he blurted out to my parents that he had a personal matter to attend to and would most likely not be returning until next year.

Which sounds worse at first, but not so bad when you realize there’s just a little over a month between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day.

The timing isn’t good, to say the least, with us already full-tilt boogie into the Christmas season here at the Inn.

No wonder my parents are freaked out and whispering in the kitchen.

Which, I should point out, would not be a huge deal if it were pretty much any other employee at the Inn except Chef Wyatt. He’s considered a celebrity chef since his signature desserts, including blackberry cobbler and marionberry pie topped with homemade vanilla ice cream, are legendary across the Pacific Northwest.

My stomach growled. Right now a huge slab of his marionberry pie sounds like heaven. Looks like it might be Marie Callender's for a spell--at least until Chef Wyatt returns from taking care of business in Boise.

Anyway, as I started to say, employee issues are always just part of doing business, and no biggie, but having your famous chef go missing is a huge biggie.

I kicked one of the red totes with my foot and as it slid across the floor a lightbulb went off in my brain.

Good grief. My mom even bought the totes in red and green holiday colors.

She seriously needs therapy.

I’m being honest here: Every single year here at the Evergreen Inn my mom decorates until the whole place looks like Christmas got sick on mulled cranberry cider and puked all over.

If she had her way, the Inn would boast Christmas 365 days a year.

Some crazy places do that. They advertise the bed and breakfast or inn as a Christmas place year round.

Dad and I have even talked about this. Because if she ever starts seriously babbling about turning the Evergreen into something like that, I swear, my father and I are gonna stage an intervention.

The thing is, she’s