Nice Until Proven Naughty

I’m tempted to turn around and head home, but I keep moving forward, knowing that in a few short minutes, I can head back out.

No harm. No foul. And I will have completed my task in its entirety. The goal is to carol at every house in town, and I really don’t want to stop until I’ve done just that.

The all-brick house sits farther back than I’d anticipated, but my car makes it. I give her a little pat on the dash before I slip out and walk up what I presume is a walkway. It’s hard to tell because it hasn’t been shoveled, but there are several sets of shoe prints leading to the front door.

I do my best to follow the tracks already laid, and by the time I get to the front door, my fingers are frozen inside my mittens and the sting of the wind causes tears to prick my eyes. I’m pretty sure those tears are freezing to my cheeks.

God, this was a bad idea.

I knock twice on the big front door and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Light is shining through the curtains, and I can hear the sounds of what I believe to be the TV filtering through the air.

I knock again, prepared to give the resident another ten seconds. If they don’t answer in the next ten seconds, I’m out of here.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Shit, it’s cold.

Seven.

Six.

A gust of wind about knocks me over, but I stand my ground.

Five.

Four.

Another gust causes a chunk of snow to fly off the roof and smack my face.

Screw it. I’m done.

I turn on my heel at the same time the door handle turns.

Of course, they would decide to open the door just as I’m about to leave.

I turn around and start singing without even looking at who is standing in the doorway.

“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like m-m-me.”

“Stop.”

I don’t. I keep going. “I once was lost but now I’m found—”

“I said stop.”

“—was blind, but now I see.”

“Clearly you don’t,” the brash voice says, snapping me out of my nearly frozen state.