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tears in her voice.
    Feeling suddenly shy, I let my long blonde hair fall across my face. From beneath my curtain, I safely assess her as she peers over my shoulder at Elwyn. She's slightly shorter than I am and rather plump. She has a soft, round appearance, sort of like a cinnamon roll. Her hair is snow white, which she has pulled back in a bun. The dress she wears reminds me vaguely of my mother's, although the flour at the edges of a cheerful green apron tells me that my grandmother bakes. I don't think I’ve ever seen my mother in the kitchen at home. We have elves who bake for us.
    My grandmother and Elwyn stare at one another for a few tense moments before she ushers me inside. Elwyn disappears down the road. As the door shuts behind me, I feel a wave of relief at being released from his clutches.
    I set my suitcase down on the hard wood floor. Pulling off my mittens and coat, I let myself appreciate the warmth starting to thaw my frozen extremities. My grandmother fusses around me, taking my coat and making small talk about my trip. That's when I realize she’s nervous too. For some reason this fact relaxes me.
    "So…" I begin.
    My grandmother smiles at me. "Come into the kitchen," she says. "We'll have some milk and cookies."
    That reminds me of home, but in a good way. I follow her through a bright hallway flanked by an open staircase decorated cheerfully for the upcoming holiday. The walls are covered with framed photographs. Upon closer inspection, I see that they are of me and my sisters throughout the years. My heart squeezes at the thought that my parents sent my grandmother pictures of us but never let her meet us.
    When we are seated in the cozy kitchen, I take a deep breath. I have so many questions. My grandmother seems to know this, and she places a reassuring hand on my arm.
    "I'll answer all of your questions in good time," she says. "Now why don't you finish your snack and we'll get you settled in your room. I'm sure you'll want to rest before we go out."
    "Where are we going?"
    She smiles. "To meet Nick, of course."

Chapter Three
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    I follow my grandmother out of her house half expecting to be tossed into a sleigh given how much she seems to enjoy the holiday. Instead we climb into an unassuming green SUV, which my grandmother informs me has four-wheel drive.
    As she peels out onto the snow-covered road, gravel sprays behind her wheels. Who would have thought my grandmother, the former Mrs. Claus herself, would have a need for speed? We don't talk much as she concentrates on her driving, which I must say is far too fast for my taste.
    My stomach knots in anticipation. I have no idea where we are going to meet Nick. And I haven't been able to formulate the words to ask. When I had been shown my room I’d lain down on the bed for several minutes before racing around to find something appropriate to wear.
    Sitting in the passenger seat of my grandmother's SUV I doubt every choice I’d made. Should I have worn this dress? Should I have chosen something sexier? Not something I can ask my grandma.
    I shift uncomfortably, glad I chose my soft suede boots. My feet will be warm at least.
    "So…um, where are we going?" I finally ask.
    My grandmother smiles at me with a quick little sideways glance. She fiddles with the radio until Christmas songs begin blaring. Humming along, she turns onto a larger highway. I discover we aren’t as far out in the country as I had originally thought.
    We pull onto a busy main street bustling with activity. No snow has fallen but clearly that hasn’t kept shopkeepers and the like from decorating for the holiday. Falsely cheerful wreaths hang from lampposts, colored lights blinking into the dark night. Store windows are strung with more lights, fake snow, and various other Christmas accoutrements. I try not to stare. This all reminds me of a watered down version of home. I think I might throw up.
    Gran parks her car along a side street and we