Page 2 of A Curvy Carol

“That’s a great wish,” Belle replied.

Holly glanced toward Santa’s Workshop down the street. “So, who do you think will be picked to be Santa this year?”

This was another one of the things that made Garland special. Every year, someone was selected to be Santa and would take pictures with kids at the mall. It was a big honor to be picked, although the process of getting selected was a huge mystery. No one even really knew for sure how to apply or how you got nominated. And no one ever knew Santa’s true identity either.

“Maybe they’ll pick Mr. Thornton,” I joked about our grumpy, middle-aged math teacher. He was definitely more Grinch than Santa material.

Everyone else shuddered.

We walked away from the tree and kept making guesses, each one crazier and crazier.

As we reached Cocoa Corner, the local coffee shop, we all got ready to part ways.

Everyone had something different going on for Christmas this next week. We would hardly be able to see each other.

Not that I would’ve had time with everything my parents had planned anyway. So the five of us agreed to meet up on New Year’s Eve at Haley’s big blowout party. I always loved that party–not just because it was fun, but it meant I had a whole year before having to do the Christmas thing again.

I glanced down at my crafting bag. Hopefully, I’d have time to finish my friends’ cross-stitch gifts by then.

We all said our goodbyes and I gave my friends a final wave and made my way to the Garland bookstore. They had cozy chairs where I could sit and cross-stitch for a while. I would’ve preferred my room at home, but Mom was there and what I really needed was some peace.

I loved my parents, but lately it was like they weren’t really listening to me at all. I had no idea how to get through to them that the Christmas Olympics wasn’t my idea of a good time. They didn’t have to make up for the divorce by making Christmas as cheery as possible—we could just settle into a new normal. One that involved a lot less tinsel.

Sitting in the bookstore turned out to be just what I needed. I made good progress on my project, getting lost in each stitch while listening to music playing softly over the speakers.

After half an hour or so, when I got up to stretch, I saw a book on the shelf. It was like a sign. It was some sort of self-help book on family conflict and setting boundaries. I flipped through the pages, then sat back down, reading a few chapters, my project forgotten. For the first time, I didn’t feel so powerless over the situation. An idea was starting to tease at the edges of my mind–one that could change everything.

I bought the book, because it didn’t feel right not to after reading so much of it, then grabbed my stuff and went home.

I couldn’t take another Christmas like this, smiling on the outside and secretly miserable on the inside. I wouldn’t even have my friends around to make it better with how busy we all were.

My heart started beating quicker as I got home and set my stuff down. Mom walked into the living room from the kitchen, untying the back of her Christmas-themed apron. “Oh, good. You’re home. Now we can head over to your dad’s to get started on the popcorn garlands.”

“Mom,” I jumped in, not believing I was really going to do this. I felt almost lightheaded as I said, “I’m not going.”

Her mouth fell open, and I could tell she was getting ready to read me the riot act or fuss over me, sure I had to be sick or delirious or both.

But I continued, trying to sound firm. “I’m not celebrating Christmas with either of you this year.”

Now she looked aghast. “Carolynn.”

“I want a family meeting,” I said. “We need to talk.”

2

WHIT

Iwasn’t quite sure what to expect from a town like Garland, but it sure wasn’t the over-the-top scene I’d stepped into. Right now, I was surrounded by hundreds of people for the famous Christmas tree lighting, all dressed in Christmas clothes and chatting happily with each other while Christmas music played over big speakers.

It was the kind of moment that made you think you’d been transported to a cozy movie. There was no way it was real.

Except it was.

When my parents had told me three months ago that they’d bought the local lodge and we were moving, I couldn’t believe it. It was like they were in the middle of a midlife crisis or something.

They both worked high-stress corporate careers. Then, all of a sudden, we were leaving it all behind, packing up our lives, and moving to this small Christmas-obsessed town.

And while they were busy at the lodge, I was here to watch Garland’s most famous Christmas tradition: the lighting of the tree. Someone had told me if you made a wish on the Christmas star, it would come true.

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