Page 5 of Wrap Me Up

Snowflake squeals and bounces on his toes. “I’m so happy for you!”

“I think we all are,” Peppermint says.

“Thanks. I just get so insecure.” My gaze drops to the floor and I scratch my elbow. Love has not been kind to me. Outside of my friendships, I usually think no one wants me romantically. Which is one of the reasons Noel hurt me so badly at new years. But I can’t help wanting to repair what we had. Usually, Dylan and Snow are the only ones I really open up to, but I’ve been trying over the last few months to be more open with the elves I work with. While I may be head elf over the leather shop, I still consider everyone my friend.

“I know, sweetheart,” Snickerdoodle says. “But you’re a catch. Noel will see it too, and if he doesn’t, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Exactly!” Jolly says as she pats me on the shoulder. “Just give him that Tinsel smile and he’ll be down for the count.”

I can’t help laughing. “Thanks everyone. So, yes to keychain?” I hold up the bit of leather again.

“Yes!” they all cheer.

“O-kay.” I give them a grin and we all walk back to our stations.

The music goes back up so we can rock while we work. It always makes things go faster.

I rummage through the drawers of my worktable for the letter stamps and embellishments. I line the letters in order on the table, then try to decide which decorative pieces I want to use.

My tongue pokes between my lips as I concentrate on lining each letter perfectly between pounding the stamp with my hammer. I can’t send out a subpar product even if it’s to the man that broke my heart.

Soon I’m stamping little Christmas trees around his name before I paint the entire thing green. His favorite color. Perfect.

When I’m done, everyone gathers ‘round to quality check the item.

“Beautiful.” Snickerdoodle says as she passes the keychain around.

“Thanks.” When I get it back, I examine it one last time. “It’s perfect.”

“It really is,” Mistletoe says.

By now, night has fallen, and it’s getting darker in the workshop. “How about we close shop early? Head on home.” That’ll give the paint more time to dry before I put the finisher on the keychain in the morning.

They whoop and scatter to clean up their worktables before leaving me.

Now the problem is how to get it to Tinsel. And what else can I give him? Sure, a keychain with his name isn’t that personal, but we’re just getting started. Now I’m determined to see how far I can take things. How meaningful of a present I can create to remind him how good we were together?

I go to the supply closet to grab the perfect sized box and line it with tinsel of all things, making me laugh. Maybe I shouldn’t give myself away, but I’ve never been great at keeping secrets. Besides, my helpers all know. It’s a matter of time before the entire North Pole knows I’m bad at keeping secrets.

Chuckling, I set the box next to the keychain with Tinsel’s first gift. Now I have to shift gears and come up with a way to beat Dylan in the annual workshop competition.

Chapter 6

Noel

I know that to many people, a handwritten note won’t mean much in these times of technology. But Tinsel loves that sort of thing. I remember leaving him a note during rehearsal of last year’s talent show, and the way his eyes lit up made me smile for days.

I settle into my oak desk at home as the oven pre-heats for dinner. My apartment is thankfully not one that was destroyed by last year’s disaster, though my heart goes out to those that were affected. It took about six months for everything to be rebuilt and I can’t imagine losing everything like they did. But we’re elves and everyone bounced back.

My desk is in the corner of my living room, out of the way. I have dozens of fountain pens and choose my favorite glass blown one created by a fellow Nice Workshop elf. It’s long and pink with a yellow nib. Silver ink is the only thing that will work for Tinsel. It’ll sparkle and shine perfectly on the deep hunter green handmade paper I dig out of my stack.

I’ve practiced calligraphy for years and pride myself on my penmanship as much as on my wrapping skills. But I still fall short of someone as magical as Tinsel. How do I pour my heart out to a man I no doubt left broken inside? Do I explain myself? Or is it cowardly to continue on this path? I shake my hands out before dipping the pen into the ink.

I’ll let my heart choose what to write. I shouldn’t say everything just yet, perhaps just something nice about Tinsel and draw a cute little picture to make him smile.

I can’t help the grin when I decide exactly what to write. With pen to paper, I write a confession.

Chapter 7

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