“How many sets of Christmas lights do you think we need, Bella?” Bella looked along the shelves. “Ten.” Tank groaned from behind them. “No one needs ten sets of lights.” Rachel held her hand to her ear. “My goodness, Bella. I think I heard the Christmas Grinch speaking.” She waved her hand at the shelves. “Hand me the lights you want and I’ll put them in the cart.” Bella quickly chose an assortment of lights. “What’s next?” “Tinsel.” Rachel pushed the cart further down the aisle, turned right and sighed at the rainbow of sparkly tinsel lining the shelves. “It looks cheap,” Tank said from behind her. Rachel raised her eyebrows. “Is this pearl of wisdom coming from a man who wanted to buy a blow-up Santa for the front porch?” Tank crossed his muscly arms in front of his chest. “He was six-foot tall and had glowing lights inside of him. I know quality when I see it.” “And we could have bought a matching reindeer,” Bella said with more than a tinge of disappointment in her voice.
