Page 38 of Christmas Charms
“Not until tomorrow, but I have a backup plan.” I throw the covers off and climb out of bed.
“I thought the rental car was your backup plan.”
“It was—it still is, actually. Aidan dropped the car off here yesterday afternoon while I was in town visiting his sister at the jewelry store where she works.” At the mention of Enchanting Jewels, a warm glow comes over me. It is really such a charming little place, just the sort of boutique where I want to sell my own designs someday.
Not now, obviously. I’d be a fool not to try and work my way up the ladder at Windsor where I’ve already put in so much time establishing myself. If I’m ever going to get to Paris for Christmas on my own, it’s exactly the sort of job I should have.
“I don’t know,” Maya says. I can practically see her shaking her head on the other end of the line. “I know you want the promotion, but it’s not worth risking your life. According to my weather app, the roads upstate still seem pretty treacherous.”
“Which is exactly why I’m heading to the local auto store to get a set of snow chains.” I nod definitively, pretty darn proud that I managed to come up with a backup to my backup plan.
“Snow chains? Do you really think they’ll make that much of a difference?”
I pull another ubiquitous black turtleneck from my suitcase. “Absolutely. My dad used to have some that worked wonders in snowy weather. Unfortunately, he just got a new set of heavy-duty winter tires, so he gave the snow chains away. But that’s okay, my eventual promotion will more than cover the cost of new ones.”
It has to, because I’m running out of time to get my application in.
“I should probably get going, though. I’ll text you the second I get back to the city,” I promise.
“Kiss, kiss.” Maya makes cute little smacking sounds into the phone. “And be careful!”
When I emerge from the bedroom, my parents are once again enjoying their adorable coffee and bathrobe morning ritual.
“What’s it going to be this time—plane, train or automobile?” Dad eyes me over his steaming, cinnamon-scented coffee. He’s sipping it from a ceramic OLFD mug, which immediately makes me think of Aidan and our date. Or non-date? Whatever it is, I go all fluttery every time I think about it. “Or have you finally given up and decided to stay here until after Christmas?”
“I don’t have a choice. I have to get back,” I say, although spending time with Aidan again has begun to make me more aware than ever that life is full of choices, every single day. Maybe I’m more in charge of my destiny than I think.
Or Iwouldbe, if I didn’t have a magical bracelet stuck on my wrist.
“Honey, are you sure you want to work for a place that won’t consider you for a promotion unless you interrupt your Christmas holiday and drive through a blizzard to go and beg for it in person?” my dad says softly.
“It’s not begging,” I say, focusing intently on the tray of muffins on the kitchen island, because I’m not altogether sure he’s wrong.
Does my boss realize how much trouble I’m going through to get to Manhattan? Does she even care?
I bite into a muffin, but even gooey chunks of cranberry and white chocolate can’t quell my sense of unease. And yet, I can’t give up on the idea of at least trying for that promotion. I’ve spent four years at Windsor. It can’t have all been for nothing.
“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but the train station still isn’t up and running.” My mom sighs. “You know, if you decide to say put, you could always volunteer to help with the Firefighters’ Toy Parade.”
Dad nods. They’re tag-teaming me, apparently, and when Fruitcake leaves my side to go stand between them, I get the definite feeling that I’m outnumbered. “The station could sure use the help, and who better than a former Parade Sweetheart?”
I can’t help but laugh. “That was over two decades ago. I doubt anyone remembers my reign as Firefighters’ Sweetheart.”
Every year on Christmas Eve morning, the fire department holds its annual Firefighters’ Toy Parade. The event is a celebration of the holidays, but mainly a charity drive to provide toys for children in need. In the days leading up to the parade, the fire department collects and wraps hundreds of gifts for underprivileged kids throughout the state. Then, on parade day, the fire trucks all roll through town with firemen waving from the windows, followed by elaborate floats decorated by local businesses. The last vehicle in the parade is always the ladder truck, of course, with Santa and the Parade Sweetheart riding on top. Tradition dictates that the Firefighters’ Parade Sweetheart is always a young child related to one of OLFD’s bravest. I had the honor of reigning over the parade with Santa when I was six years old.
“Think about it,” my mom says. “It’s for a good cause, and I think you’d have a lot of fun!”
“I’ll think about it. I promise.” I’m sure she’s right. It would be great fun, and I’d love to do some volunteer work during the holidays. But with the promotion hanging in the balance, I’m not sure I should commit. From what I remember of the toy parade, it takes loads of effort.
I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep and end up letting anyone down. I feel like I’ve been doing enough of that already.
“In the meantime, I’m off to Pete’s Auto Store for snow chains.” I fasten the buttons on my coat and grab the keys to the rental car. “Wish me luck?”
My mom nods as she refills her coffee cup and adds a generous splash of Christmas cookie–flavored creamer. “Good luck, honey. Give us a call when you get to the city so we know you’re safe.”
Dad is less optimistic. “Good luck, but something tells me Aidan will be bringing you home in about an hour or so.”
I give my head a firm shake. “Definitely not happening this time.”
