climb out. A crowd has gathered under the awning of some sort of theater. The marquee announces in bold letters that Santa is coming to town. All the pieces click into place. I can't believe how stupid I am. Of course, this is the perfect place to meet my future husband. The brilliant bit of sarcasm dripping through my brain is lost on Gran as I don't voice my opinion. Or my opposition.
What would be the point? Gran is clearly in cahoots with my old man. They both want me hitched before Christmas Eve. Or we might all face the wrath of the elf elders. Just as the thought passes through my mind, a pair of young girls scurry by dressed as elves. I burst out laughing. Everyone in the near vicinity turns to see what Iâm braying about and my cheeks flame.
I duck my head, letting my silvery blonde hair hide my face.
"Why are we here?" I whisper fiercely to Gran.
She gives me an indulgent smile, pats me on the arm, and says, "You have to trust me, Virginia."
My mouth actually drops open and I stare at her in surprise. "Trust you? I don't even know you."
Something flickers in Gran's eyes, and suddenly I'm afraid Iâve hurt her feelings. Then she says, "Indeed you don't, but you don't have a choice."
Her words are brisk and clipped, full of efficient energy, leaving no room for argument. I might feel bad or sad but she puts a comforting arm around my shoulders and steers me into the lobby of the theater.
The warmth of the air wraps around me, and I pull off my gloves. A group of teenagers are singing Christmas carols to a small audience on one side of the lobby. On the other side a long table is set up with cookies and hot chocolate. My stomach rumbles. When was the last time I ate? How do I not remember?
Grabbing a cookie shaped like a reindeer, I pick up a cup of the watery hot chocolate and peer at it suspiciously. This must be from a powder. Nothing like this would be served at home. My taste buds tingle at the thought of the elves' thick hot chocolate made with only the best ingredients. A sigh escapes my lips. Gran arches an eyebrow but doesn't ask. Can I really be missing home?
"So what happens here?" I take a large bite of the reindeer's head. That was always my favorite part of Christmas cookies as a kid, biting off a head or a foot.
Gran loosens her scarf and pulls off her gloves, folding them neatly before sliding them into the pocket of her coat. "Hmmm," she says, "in just a bit Santa will arrive. Then you'll have the chance to meet Nick."
I shiver at the sound of his name and glance around hoping he might be in the area. None of the young men in the room resemble the guy Iâd seen in the snow globe. Disappointment gnaws at me, much to my surprise. Could Elwyn have used some of his elf magic to change my attitude? I want to ask Gran, but sheâs drifted off to talk to a group of older ladies.
With nothing to do but munch on the stale cookie and sip the watery hot chocolate, I wander back across the lobby toward the entrance. Outside a band has struck up a lively round of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," and a small group of kids are dancing around wildly. The excitement of the moment is written on their faces. Obviously Santa never incited such feelings in me.
Gran appears suddenly at my elbow, murmuring that we need to go outside because Santa is about to arrive. I want to make a snarky comment, but this is a woman I barely met five hours ago. Thinking better of it, I follow her back into the chilly night air.
Once outside, I can hear the band better. The carols sound warm to me, devoid of their usual tinny accompaniment of dozens of elfin voices. I feel a smile tugging at my lips. Could Christmas really be enjoyable here?
Suddenly shouts of excitement fill the air as kids begin jumping up and down all around me. I try to follow the source of the excitement, and that's when I see the strangest sight Iâve ever seen. A large snowplow decked out with thousands of twinkling Christmas lights
What would be the point? Gran is clearly in cahoots with my old man. They both want me hitched before Christmas Eve. Or we might all face the wrath of the elf elders. Just as the thought passes through my mind, a pair of young girls scurry by dressed as elves. I burst out laughing. Everyone in the near vicinity turns to see what Iâm braying about and my cheeks flame.
I duck my head, letting my silvery blonde hair hide my face.
"Why are we here?" I whisper fiercely to Gran.
She gives me an indulgent smile, pats me on the arm, and says, "You have to trust me, Virginia."
My mouth actually drops open and I stare at her in surprise. "Trust you? I don't even know you."
Something flickers in Gran's eyes, and suddenly I'm afraid Iâve hurt her feelings. Then she says, "Indeed you don't, but you don't have a choice."
Her words are brisk and clipped, full of efficient energy, leaving no room for argument. I might feel bad or sad but she puts a comforting arm around my shoulders and steers me into the lobby of the theater.
The warmth of the air wraps around me, and I pull off my gloves. A group of teenagers are singing Christmas carols to a small audience on one side of the lobby. On the other side a long table is set up with cookies and hot chocolate. My stomach rumbles. When was the last time I ate? How do I not remember?
Grabbing a cookie shaped like a reindeer, I pick up a cup of the watery hot chocolate and peer at it suspiciously. This must be from a powder. Nothing like this would be served at home. My taste buds tingle at the thought of the elves' thick hot chocolate made with only the best ingredients. A sigh escapes my lips. Gran arches an eyebrow but doesn't ask. Can I really be missing home?
"So what happens here?" I take a large bite of the reindeer's head. That was always my favorite part of Christmas cookies as a kid, biting off a head or a foot.
Gran loosens her scarf and pulls off her gloves, folding them neatly before sliding them into the pocket of her coat. "Hmmm," she says, "in just a bit Santa will arrive. Then you'll have the chance to meet Nick."
I shiver at the sound of his name and glance around hoping he might be in the area. None of the young men in the room resemble the guy Iâd seen in the snow globe. Disappointment gnaws at me, much to my surprise. Could Elwyn have used some of his elf magic to change my attitude? I want to ask Gran, but sheâs drifted off to talk to a group of older ladies.
With nothing to do but munch on the stale cookie and sip the watery hot chocolate, I wander back across the lobby toward the entrance. Outside a band has struck up a lively round of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," and a small group of kids are dancing around wildly. The excitement of the moment is written on their faces. Obviously Santa never incited such feelings in me.
Gran appears suddenly at my elbow, murmuring that we need to go outside because Santa is about to arrive. I want to make a snarky comment, but this is a woman I barely met five hours ago. Thinking better of it, I follow her back into the chilly night air.
Once outside, I can hear the band better. The carols sound warm to me, devoid of their usual tinny accompaniment of dozens of elfin voices. I feel a smile tugging at my lips. Could Christmas really be enjoyable here?
Suddenly shouts of excitement fill the air as kids begin jumping up and down all around me. I try to follow the source of the excitement, and that's when I see the strangest sight Iâve ever seen. A large snowplow decked out with thousands of twinkling Christmas lights
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