Page 2 of Magic in Mistletoe
The sound of the door chime announced the arrival of another customer, pulling Sadie out of her thoughts. She plastered on a tight-lipped approximation of a smile as a large man with a silvery beard approached the counter.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “I’m hoping you can help me find the perfect assortment of candies for my grandchildren.”
“Of course,” Sadie replied, finding it difficult for her to share in his enthusiasm. “How many are there?”
“Eight,” the man answered, holding up eight fingers with a chuckle. “They’re practically bouncing off the walls with excitement for the holidays.”
“Ah, yes. The ‘magic’ of the season,” she said, air-quoting the word magic with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m sure their excitement is simply contagious.”
“Indeed it is,” the man agreed, unfazed by her sarcasm. “There’s nothing quite like seeing the world alight with Christmas magic.”
“Right,” Sadie snorted, already gathering various candies into a bag. “That childlike wonder lasts about as long as the candy does.”
“Is that what you believe?” the man asked, tilting his head as he observed her carefully.
“Experience has taught me that people rarely show their true selves,” she said, setting the bag of candy on the counter. “All that holiday happiness is a facade, a mask they put on to hide their real feelings.”
“Perhaps,” the man conceded, paying for his purchase with a kind smile. “But sometimes, those masks can help us discover something genuine within ourselves. Something worth celebrating.”
“Whatever you say,” Sadie muttered, handing him his bag. “That will be forty-five dollars, please.”
The man handed her cash.
“Well, Merry Christmas, I suppose,” Sadie said as she put the money into the cash register.
“Thank you, my dear,” the man replied, his eyes still twinkling as he turned to leave. “And a Merry Christmas to you as well. You never know what kind of magic is possible when you open your heart.” He quickly double-tapped his finger on the side of his nose before pointing at her.
“That was weird,” she whispered as the man exited.
Uneasy, Sadie walked over to the large window and watched the snowflakes dance slowly toward the ground. Her knees weakened, and she leaned against the window frame for support, as if unable to carry the weight of her perpetual scowl. Why had the old man unnerved her so? She didn’t believe in magic or the Christmas spirit, but as the snow twinkled like a kaleidoscope under the colorful holiday lights, she secretly hoped that there existed a kernel of genuine joy waiting to be uncovered.
Chapter 2
AsSadiefinishedshovelingher walkway, the winter wind whipped through the neighborhood, causing her hair to dance wildly behind her. She scanned the surrounding area with disdain.
So much snow! How did anything survive in this environment? She wasn’t built for this. Not at all. But as she leaned her shovel against the wall, even beach-loving Sadie couldn’t deny the cabin’s rustic beauty.
If she were a creative person, she’d have taken a picture of her A-frame log cabin nestled perfectly among the snow-covered pines and sent it out as a Christmas card. But she wasn’t crafty. Nor did she have anyone to send it to. Not her fault—or at least not entirely her fault.
And while the cabin was no beachfront condo, it provided her with a sense of warmth despite the harsh winter environment. With two bedrooms on the ground floor and a spacious loft overhead, it was the perfect size to endure her time in the quaint northern town.
In fact, she almost looked forward to doing the store’s paperwork because she got to work from home. Even if there was a mountain of it. Running a candy store was no easy task.
“Alright, let’s get inside and get to work,” she said, stomping her snow-covered boots on the wooden porch before stepping inside the cabin. No sooner had Sadie removed her coat when she tripped over the area rug in the foyer. She attempted to catch herself on the coat stand, instead knocking it over. Glass shattered beside her.She whipped around and found that she’d broken the small window in the door. Pieces of broken glass lay scattered all around, glinting maliciously in the firelight as wind rushed through the cabin, blowing her carefully organized stacks of paper off the table.
“Ugh, just what I needed,” she grumbled, running a hand through her hair, as if trying to tame her mounting frustration. Her eyes narrowed at the mess.
“Stupid wind,” she muttered. “Stupid me.” Sadie quickly searched the cabin for something to cover the hole in her door, eventually taping a piece of cardboard over the broken window. Once that was taken care of, she then fetched a broom and dustpan from the kitchen and began sweeping up the shards.
The sound of the glass tinkling against each other seemed to mock her, amplifying her irritation. Each sweep felt like it added another layer to her souring mood. As she bent down to collect the final remnants of the window, a particularly sharp piece nicked her finger, drawing blood.
“Ouch!” she hissed, bringing her injured finger to her lips, tasting the metallic tang. “Perfect start to the day.”
Sadie rolled her eyes at the paperwork now scattered throughout the room. “Alright, first things first. Deal with the window,” she told herself firmly, picking up the coat rack. Even as the frustration of a now wasted morning lingered, she had no choice but to push it aside and focus on the task at hand. With a heavy sigh, she dressed again and headed out.
Sadie pulled the door of her cabin shut with a huff, her breath turning to frosty clouds. The snow crunched beneath her boots as she trudged through the thick blanket that covered the streets of the small town.
“Morning, Sadie!” called out Mr. Jenkins from across the street, his cheerful voice cutting through the cold like a knife.
