My eyeballs rolled straight into the back of my head at Dad’s dad joke. But Aunt Esha tittered in amusement and Dad beamed, pleased with himself.

Grandma Jo spotted our arrival and quickly joined us, Dr. Raymond hot on her heels.

“You’re here!” she beamed.

Dr. Raymond held up a piece of paper with a cartoon reindeer head on the top. “Got your ticket, Skippy!”

Dad tensed. “Skip.” He accepted the ticket with two fingers. “Thanks.”

Dr. Raymond handed out the rest.

Grandma Jo put her arm around my shoulders and squeezed me a little too tightly. “We’re the next tour group. They only have two guides at the moment.”

“Drakkar and Axe Moses,” Dr. Raymond expanded, then looked at Arthur and Aunt Esha to expand even further. “No relation. To Moses. They’re related.”

Grandma Jo kept her focus. “They’re out on a sleigh ride, but the ticket keeper expects them back in fifteen minutes.”

Dr. Raymond looked at Arthur and me. “You can feed the free-range chickens if you kids are interested.” Did he think we were five? “And the hot cocoa is included in the ticket!”

Okay, fine. I did like hot cocoa.

Grandma Jo moved to slip her arms through both Dad’s and Aunt Esha’s, putting herself between them. “Let’s grab ours and wait in the café.”

She propelled both in the direction of the adjacent café. Dr. Raymond followed.

I glanced over to where Arthur had been standing only to see him already in the gift shop opposite the café.

More shopping. Okay, then.

But I had to admit even I was curious about was in there.

Turns out, a lot of reindeer things.

The space was compact, about the size of my “just in case” bedroom but with every possible surface crammed with reindeer paraphernalia that ran the gamut from obvious to bizarre. I prayed there wasn’t the reindeer equivalent of bacon lip balm.

Arthur moved around the exterior shelves, fascinated in much the same way he had been while jeans shopping.

“Do you have a shopping-addiction problem we should discuss?” I asked, amused.

“Only whilst on vacation to towns named after holidays.” His dark brows pulled into a deep frown and he picked up the reindeer-headed kalimba. “Interesting.”

He placed it aside then moved to the next section.

I pointed toward the door. “Everyone’s over in the café. Do you wanna join?”

“No, thank you. I’m still full from breakfast. Plus, I perused the menu last night off their website. I’d rather not find out if ‘reindeer oysters’ are what I suspect.”

The lady with a reindeer-antlers headband in her skunk-striped hair who stood behind the register volunteered, “They are.”

And I never needed to eat again.

Arthur’s face lit up. “Christmas crackers!”

Before I could ask if that was another reference to reindeer oysters, skunk-haired lady piped up. “Those’re reindeer snappers.”