Page 1 of Once Upon a Winter
One
Laura Everly sighed contentedlyas she strolled through the quaint seaside village of Mistletoe, Maine. Crisp, salty air filled her lungs as she wound her way down the main street lined with shops trimmed in twinkling lights. She popped into a bakery and inhaled the spicy aroma of gingerbread. It was exactly the storybook Christmas town she’d dreamed of for her new start.
Up ahead, a display in a shop window caught Laura’s eye. It was an antiques store decked out in full holiday splendor. Shimmering snowflakes dangled from the eaves as the warm glow of holiday lights beckoned from within. She had to go inside.
A bell jingled as Laura entered the shop. Immediately, her gaze fell upon a beautiful snow globe on a shelf. Enchanted by the snow-covered village nestled inside the glass globe, she drew nearer. It looked remarkably like Mistletoe. Without hesitation, Laura picked up the snow globe and ran her fingers over the polished wooden base.
“I see you’ve found our new arrival,” said the shop owner. An air of mystery clung to her, though a warm smile lit her eyes.
“It’s lovely,” Laura murmured. On impulse, she decided she had to have the piece as a memento of her new life in Mistletoe. “I’ll take it.”
After Laura paid for her latest treasure, the shop owner bent over the counter, brushed silver strands of hair back into her chignon, and wrapped the snow globe in large sheets of paper. “Are you enjoying Mistletoe?”
“I am. Actually, I just moved here.”
“How nice! Welcome to Mistletoe.” She extended her hand. “I’m Jessica.”
“Laura.”
Jessica’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she handed the bag to Laura. “You know, this is a very special snow globe.”
“Is it? How so?”
“It’s got a touch of Christmas magic in it. I’m told it chooses its owners. It seems it chose you.”
Laura enjoyed the old woman’s sales puffery, but she couldn’t resist saying, “Probably because I’m willing to spend ninety dollars on it.” She chuckled.
Jessica regarded Laura as though sizing her up. “Perhaps.”
Laura smiled. “Well, this owner’s on a budget. But I allow myself one special Christmas decoration each year. And this year, I think this will be it.” The snow globe was actually over her budget, but if it doubled as a housewarming gift, she could justify the purchase.
“It’s a small price to pay for a little Christmas magic.”
“I’ve outgrown Christmas magic, but I do love a snow globe.”
“Christmas magic never outgrows people. It’s a shame it’s the other way around.”
The shop owner was good; she would give her that. But the woman had a point, one that made Laura wistful. “It’s part of growing up.” After exchanging cordial holiday wishes with the woman, Laura left the shop.
Outside, snowflakes danced in the breeze as she strolled through the square, clutching her magical snow globe. The Christmas village inside, with a gentle snowfall, filled her with wistful, childlike joy. It would serve as a tangible reminder of why she’d chosen to move there. The town’s charm infused every corner of Mistletoe. She would have that same feeling inside her home, to remind her of the quaint small-town appeal that had motivated her to relocate to Mistletoe. It was the start of her wonderful new life.
Once home, she wasted no time unpacking the Christmas decorations and placing them around her cozy living room. Piles of boxes still surrounded her, but she had a pot of pine branches near the window to scent the room with holiday cheer. Red and green stockings hung from her fireplace, fairy lights adorned every doorway, and a festive wreath decked the chimney. She might not have finished unpacking, but Laura was ready to enjoy Christmas in all its glory.
With a contented sigh, she sank into an armchair and gazed around as warmth flooded her chest. The place already felt like home.
The next morningdawned bright and clear, with blades of sunlight cutting through the trees and casting shadows across the bright snow. Laura hummed along to “White Christmas” as she made coffee, anticipation quickening her pulse.
She had just taken the first bite of her toast when her phone rang and displayed her old office phone number. She scowled and answered with a short greeting.
“Laura.” Fran’s poorly concealed relief rushed out. “I’m sorry to bother you, but we can’t locate the final draft of the quarterly report for the meeting in an hour.”
Laura shut her eyes and took a moment then tried not to sound too dismayed. “It’s on our shared drive in the cloud. I even copied Allison and Jason on it.” Same old Fran—flummoxed by technology.
“I guess I must’ve looked in the wrong folder or something.”
“It’s the one marked Quarterly Reports. If you don’t see it, try searching online for it.”
“Oh. That’s a good idea.”
