Page 22 of Moonlight Over Mistletoe
“Oh, I'm not too far, but far enough that coming into town takes a bit of planning. I live in a location more central to several of my grandchildren, all who run one of our toy workshops.”
“And they all live in the area?”
“As the crow flies, it's not too bad,” Christopher said.
Eleanor still had questions, but as they turned the corner into town, she gasped. Her attention now directed toward a town blanketed in darkness. “Oh no,” she said. “Not the entire town.”
“It's not complete darkness,” Christopher noted. “I can see sporadic light from some houses.”
“Yes, well, most of us have backup generators for such an event, as I'm sure you do too. But what does this mean for the competition? It's in two days.” They passed the Kringle toy workshop. All the lights were on. “Looks like your family has a good backup system.”
“We do,” Christopher said.” We are on a separate power grid.”
“What's your secret?” Eleanor asked jokingly while checking the weather on her phone app. She sighed. “Please tell me you’ll share your secret because it looks like the wind is here for a while.” Her head dropped into her hands. “This is a disaster. I knew the weather this time of year was too unpredictable. Even if we use generators, the tents can't withstand the wind. We're going to have to cancel.” She swallowed back tears.
Christopher placed a hand on her knee. “I think—”
“Don't say it,” Eleanor instructed. “What I don't need right now are platitudes.”
“That's not what I was going to say.” He stopped the sleigh and turned to her. “I think I can help. We Kringles are a resourceful bunch. We have a few tricks up our sleeves.”
“How?” Eleanor asked.
“Trust me,” Christopher said.
She stared at him for what felt like minutes. Eleanor could cancel the event or put her trust in a man she’d only known for weeks. That was a heck of a choice. Christopher, for his part, said nothing, simply giving her time to decide, his expression open and sincere.
Eleanor decided to take a leap of faith.
16
Eleanorconsideredherselfamorning person, but the harsh ring of the telephone at 7am pierced through Eleanor's brain and her routine. With a huff, she set down her cup of coffee and shuffled to answer it, her slippered feet scraping across the worn hardwood floor.
“Hello?” she answered, her voice clipped with annoyance.
“Eleanor! What on earth is going on? Get down here right away,” the mayor's voice burst through the receiver.
“Can't it wait? I'm in the middle of my breakfast,” Eleanor began, but the mayor abruptly hung up.
Eleanor glared at the phone, her lips pursed. “This can't be good. Good news always waits for a decent hour.”
With a resigned sigh, she hurried to her bedroom, swapping her house dress for a proper outfit and securing her gray hair into its bun. As she grabbed her coat and purse, she couldn't help thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong.
The walk into town was mercifully short, but a range of possibilities, each more outlandish than the last, flashed through Eleanor's mind. With her imagination running wild, she conjured up images from a two-headed moose running wild to a sinkhole that swallowed downtown.
Eleanor's jaw dropped as she rounded the corner to the town square. There, dominating the center of Mistletoe, stood an enormous translucent dome, shimmering like a giant soap bubble. Not only did it encompass the entire area where the dance competition was to be held, but the entire town square sat inside it, including the giant tree at the center.
“What in the world?” Eleanor breathed, her eyes fixed on the impossible structure.
“Over here,” Gloria called out. “I don't know how you did it, but it's magnificent. The mayor is already inside. Come on.” She grabbed Eleanor's arm, practically dragging her through one of the entrances.
The interior was even more astonishing—a climate-controlled environment protected it from the raging winds, with strings of twinkling lights crisscrossing overhead and a disco ball like a giant moon in the center.
Mayor Evergreen gazed around in awe. “Eleanor, how did you do this?” he asked as Eleanor and Gloria approached him.
Eleanor blinked, momentarily bewildered. “Me? I didn't—” She paused, remembering her conversation with Christopher. “Christopher Kringle, you know, Martin and Jack's grandfather, well, last night he mentioned he had an idea to protect the area from the winds, but I never imagined this.”
As Gloria and the mayor chattered on about the dome's features, Eleanor's mind whirled. How could Christopher have possibly arranged this overnight? It defied all logic and reason. It was as if it appeared by magic.
