Page 14 of Chloe

A cheer goes up from the crowd, and I notice Chloe shifting uncomfortably. “Maybe we should go,” she mutters to me. “I told you, I’m not much of a singer.”

“Oh, come on,” I insist, gently taking her arm. “You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to. Just stay and listen. Please?”

She hesitates, and I can sense her internal struggle. Part of her wants to flee back to the safety of her grandmother’s house, but another part—a part she’s trying hard to ignore – is drawn to the warmth and camaraderie of the gathering.

I’ve been there before.

Finally, she sighs. “Fine. We’ll stay for a little while.”

Victory. I guide her towards the edge of the crowd where we can observe without feeling too overwhelmed. Oliver joins us, standing close enough to Chloe that their shoulders almost touch.

As the first strains of “Deck the Halls” fill the air, I watch Chloe’s face carefully. Her expression remains neutral, but I can sense a softening in her energy. By the time we get to “Silent Night,” I notice her foot tapping ever so slightly to the rhythm.

The caroling continues, the harmonies of the townspeople rising into the night sky. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the music wash over me. It’s different from the perfect, angelic choirs of heaven – a bit rough around the edges, with the occasional off-key note – but there’s a warmth and sincerity to it that tugs at my heart.

When I open my eyes, I’m startled to see a tear glistening on Chloe’s cheek. She quickly wipes it away, but not before I catch a glimpse of the raw emotion in her eyes.

“Are you okay?” I ask softly.

She nods, clearing her throat. “Fine. It’s just... my grandmother used to love Christmas carols. We’d sing them together when I visited her here as a child.”

My heart swells with compassion. “That sounds like a beautiful memory.”

Chloe shrugs, her walls coming back up. “It was a long time ago.”

As the caroling winds down, I notice Oliver gently touching Chloe’s elbow. “I have to head out, but I was wondering... would you be interested in helping me set up the digital inventory system for the toy drive? Your expertise would be invaluable.”

Chloe hesitates for a moment, then nods. “I suppose I could spare some time. For the children, of course.”

Oliver’s face breaks into a wide grin. “That’s wonderful. Thank you, Chloe. This will make such a difference.”

As Oliver says his goodbyes, I can’t help but feel a surge of triumph. I’ve got Chloe involved in a charitable project and spending more time with Oliver. It’s a good start, but I know I’ve got a long way to go before I can call this assignment a success.

Walking back to Chloe’s house, I can sense a change in her mood. She’s quieter, more thoughtful, and there’s a softness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Thank you for dragging me out tonight,” she says as we reach her porch. “It was... not entirely unpleasant.”

I laugh, the sound tinkling like bells in the winter air. “High praise indeed. I’m glad you came, Chloe. Goodnight.”

As I walk away, ostensibly towards my home, I can’t help but feel a warm glow of accomplishment. It’s a small step, but it’s progress. Maybe, just maybe, I’m getting the hang of this guardian angel thing after all.

I find a quiet corner and prepare to go back home. Just before I disappear, I catch one last glimpse of Chloe standing on her porch, gazing out at the twinkling lights of Benton Falls with a contemplative expression.

A smile spreads across my face as the familiar tingle of celestial energy washes over me. Watch out, Chloe Anderson. Your guardian angel is just getting started.

Seven

CHLOE

The gentle hum of my laptop fills the cozy living room of my grandmother’s house as I pore over spreadsheets and inventory lists. A cinnamon and fir candle is burning on the coffee table, a gift from Rebecca that I’d initially dismissed as overly festive but now find oddly comforting. Outside, snow falls softly, blanketing Benton Falls in a pristine white coat that sparkles in the sunlight.

I can’t believe I’ve spent my day working on a toy drive, of all things. When I agreed to help Oliver at the community sing-along, I thought I’d just give him a few quick pointers and be done with it. But somehow—and thanks to Rebecca’s early morning visit and a box full of toys, followed by a call from Oliver—I’ve found myself completely immersed in the project, determined to make it a success.

As I input another donation into the system, I catch myself smiling at the thought of a child’s face lighting up on Christmas morning. The image catches me off guard, and I quickly shake it off. I’m doing this to help Oliver streamline his business practices, I remind myself sternly. Nothing more.

A knock at the door startles me from my thoughts. I open it to find Oliver standing on the porch, his arms laden with boxes and his cheeks ruddy from the cold.

“Afternoon, Chloe,” he says with that warm smile that never fails to make my heart skip a beat—although I would never admit that to anyone. “I hope I’m not interrupting, but I’ve got some more donations for you to log.”

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