Page 57 of Christmas Charms
I shine it until it’s perfect, my hands moving swiftly over the silver. Times passes in a pleasant, hazy blur as I gently remove layer upon layer of neglect, and when I glance at my phone and see how late it is, my fingertips go still. I sit back to rest against the pillows and take inventory of all the work I’ve done. It’s a lot, but as usual when I’m tinkering with my vintage jewelry finds, it didn’t feel like work.
Time never passes this quickly when you’re at Windsor.
I start to pick everything up, wrapping the newly shined pieces carefully in a terrycloth bath towel instead of tossing them back into the bag. When I get to the pocket watch, I pause, wondering what I might have on hand that I could fashion into a substitute cover. If I can find something just right, it might make a nice Christmas present for Aidan.
I’m not sure what I could use, though. And Christmas Eve is the day after tomorrow, so making the watch into something special for Aidan by that time seems unlikely. But as I climb beneath the covers, I vow to give it some thought.
My time would probably better be spent working on parade logistics, but hours spent creating never feel wasted. I wonder why that is?
Maybe because my mom is right, and deep down, Idowish I was doing something other than working in the charms department. I always meant to start an Etsy shop for my designs, like I’d mentioned to Betty on the train. Somehow that never happened, though. There just didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day, while working a full-time job and spending time with Jeremy.
Betty hadn’t seemed all that impressed with the Etsy idea, though. She told me to dream bigger, which seemed ridiculous at the time. I do dream big, don’t I? Isn’t dreaming big what got me to Manhattan and to Paris…almost? What dreams could be bigger or better than that?
I thought that was how I felt, but the longer I’m home, the more content I become and the more I question whether my dreams have been pointing me in the right direction or not. It’s been days since I’ve wondered what I might be missing in the city or what fabulous thing Jeremy is probably doing in France.
I cradle the pocket watch in my hands. It fits perfectly in the center of my palm, and the sensation is almost familiar. Then I pull open the drawer of my nightstand and spot a glimpse of something almost the same size and shape as the pocket watch among my childhood trinkets. And I understand right away—I know just what to do with Aidan’s gift. A warm glow blossoms deep inside of me, along with a most inconvenient truth.
The reason I’ve stopped wondering what I’m missing in New York is because I’m not missing anything at all. When I’m in Manhattan, I rarely have uninterrupted hours like this to create. I always feel like I’m stealing extra minutes here and there. What I’ve really missed is this—making my own designs and the feeling I get when I make a new memory out of an old one.
I’m just not sure what to do about it.
I look at the charms on my bracelet, searching for answers. The silver teddy bear glints in the light from my bedside lamp. Susan wondered if the charms on my bracelet were supposed to teach me something, and deep down inside, I know that if there’s a lesson to the teddy bear charm, it’s this—that time keeps moving forward, one minute at time.
Just like a pocket watch with a wind-up spring.
I scarcely have to time to breathe for the next thirty-six hours, much less ponder the intricacies of time. The toy parade consumes almost every waking minute. My favorite duty of all is delivering two glittering snowflake tiaras to Susan’s house for Sophie and Olivia, who have been unanimously chosen by the parade committee to be the Firefighters’ Sweethearts this year. For the first time ever, we’ll have two instead of one.
The girls are positively thrilled—so thrilled that they insist on making matching snowmen and topping both their frosty heads with the tiaras, just to try them out “to see if they work.” I take an absurd amount of pictures, intent on capturing as many memories as possible to take with me back to the city. It’s such a precious moment that I’m caught off guard when my charm bracelet chimes twice in rapid succession.
Jingle, jingle.
Jingle, jingle.
Sophie and Olivia’s laughter is the only thing that keeps my panic at bay.
I know it’s silly. Last week, I tried everything I could to remove the bracelet from my wrist—to free myself from the Christmas magic that did nothing but confuse and unsettle me. For a minute there, I might have even been ready to take a hammer to my own arm. Thank goodness I came to my senses.
And then, once I saw the home movie and realized my girlhood Christmas dreams were coming true, one by one, all I could think about was little me’s wish for a fairy-tale ending. A happy-ever-after.
The engagement ring charm was right there, and all I could think about was what it might mean. But as I arrive at the fire station on the afternoon of the Firefighters’ Toy Parade, my very first thought is that now the engagement ring charm is the only one left.
I wish that there were more. This has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had, and I don’t want it to end, happy-ever-after notwithstanding. But things are completely out of my control. That’s how it works with magic, isn’t it? Wishing for more charms would be like using a magic wish to wish for more wishes. As little as I actually know about Betty, I’m one hundred positive she would agree.
The fire engines are all decked out in Christmas lights and loaded down with bags of candy canes to toss into the crowds. Homemade floats representing the local businesses from Main Street are lined up, ready to go. The old Ford pickup that belongs to the owner of Mountain Candy pulls a trailer decorated with thousands upon thousands of silk flowers bunched together in the shape of various candies. Tall lollipops wobble to and fro in the winter wind. Pete from Pete’s Auto Shop is dressed as Buddy the Elf, sitting atop a refurbished Cadillac.
Everywhere I look, I see small-town charm—pure and simple love of a community that comes together every Christmas to celebrate the most magical time of the year. It’s definitely not the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.
It’s better.
Only one thing is missing—Aidan. I can’t seem to find him anywhere, and I was hoping to give him his Christmas gift before the parade starts. Uncle Hugh has taken command of the bullhorn, and he’s running this show like clockwork. But Aidan and I are supposed to be giving the final go-ahead. He’s got to be around here somewhere.
With just minutes to go before the ladder truck starts things off, I find him. He’s stretching an old firehose along the start of the parade route, using it as a makeshift barrier to keep the crowd safe. Always the hero.
“Aidan, can I talk to you for a quick second?” My heart is in my throat all of a sudden. Is now really the right time to do this?
Yes, I think, imagining the ticking of the pocket watch I’m about to give him. Time is slipping by. Who knows when the last charm will jingle? It could be at any second. I may not get another chance.
“Ashley, hey.” His whole face lights up at the sight of me. Heat radiates through my chest in spite of the snowflakes drifting through the air. “I think we’re about ready, don’t you?”
