Page 3 of A Curvy Wonderland

“Peace and quiet,” I drawled.

She scoffed.

I reopened my puzzle book, continuing working on a master-level sudoku. “I wasn’t joking.”

“I know.” She closed the book in front of me, and I looked up at her.

“Yes, mother?”

She tilted her head. “Must you always be a Scrooge?”

“You know what they say, it’s the most horrible time of the year.”

Her lips twitched like she didn’t want to admit I’d said something funny. “I know it’s a time of year families intentionally spend time together.” She reached down, scratching Bob’s ears. His back leg thumped happily on the ground. “I know it’s a special religious celebration for some. And I know it’s a time when many find ways to give back. Yourself included.”

I arched a brow. “What are you…”

As if on cue, two of my parents’ employees came carrying a Christmas tree spray painted bright red. When the two guys set it down next to the cashier’s stand, one man, Sylvester, pulled a plastic bag from his arm and withdrew a tray with white wooden ornaments and a red marker. Then he set them on the cashier stand.

“Thanks,” Mom said to them.

They tipped their heads, going back to work elsewhere like they didn’t want to stay to hear our conversation.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Your Christmas gift.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You got me a tree.” I glanced around the farm filled with hundreds of trees. Some of them were still growing, giving the option for customers to cut down their own tree. Lots of photographers did family portraits here.

Mom lifted up one of the white ornaments in the metal basket now sitting in front of me. “This is a giving tree. People will write their Christmas wish, or need, and you’re going to find a way to make it come true.”

“Me?” I raised my eyebrows. “You know I work full-time as a cashier over the holidays. I don't exactly have time to run around being a genie.”

“You do. Because this is your only job this holiday.”

“But Mom—” I argued.

“You’re fired from working on the farm.” She cut me off, shaking her head. “I’m tired of watching my only son miss out on the magic of Christmas. So we’re trying something new this year.”

I lifted my chin. “And if I don’t want to?”

“Tough,” she replied simply. “You will do this, and you will do this well, because you are a Green, and that is what we do. Nothing less.”

When she spoke like that, I knew there was no need to argue. She would make sure I followed through, just as surely as little children thought Santa came every Christmas Eve. But I still had to ask. “Why not have me volunteer at Santa’s Elves? They could always use help.”

“I’m sure you’ll be working with them, but these are our customers, filling out these tickets,” she said, voice full of compassion. Mom cared so much about everything. “They give so much to our family each year, and I want to give something back to them. And selfishly, I want to keep you close. You’ll be graduating soon, Eldan. I can’t let your last Christmas at home be another one you wish on by.”

A lump formed in my throat—although we hadn’t discussed my holiday plans while in college, we both knew I wouldn’t be coming back to Garland to celebrate, and my parents couldn’t exactly leave Emerald Acres during its busiest season. This really was our last Christmas together. “Fine,” I said. “But I’m not going to sit here and watch people fill them out.”

She held up her hands. “Fair enough.” We could hear people talking nearby. “Looks like our customers are here.”

I glanced down at Bob. “Come on, boy. Let’s go.” I got up, hearing his soft footfalls trail behind me. A mom and two daughters with ridiculous hair passed by us on the trail that led into town.

I hadn’t made a wish this year, but maybe I should have. One that would have Christmas flying by as quickly as possible so I could graduate and get out of this Christmas-obsessed place.

3

HOLLY

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