Page 3 of Holiday Ever After

We had plans.

I mean, I had a plan. We weren’t perfect. There were doubts here and there… maybe more than there should have been, but we were going to get married. I felt it. I felt… something. Yeah, anger, betrayal, murder…

When you get thirty days with nothing but time on your hands, your mind conjures up the most creative ideas. We truly don’t give our brains enough credit. It’s a good thing I don’t have it in me to disassemble a body or the muscle mass to drag one into the woods. Instead, I sulked. And sulked. And now, worse than being dumped like yesterday’s trash, I’m parked outside my childhood home, about to spend the holidays with my parents, who still think my life is perfect.

“Those sure are some decorations. That’s the holiday spirit if I say so.”

Or desperation to contact aliens on Mars. “Yeah, my parents just love Christmas.”

Climbing out, I grab my two suitcases from the trunk and tug them up the driveway, slipping on the ice and almost eating the frozen blacktop. I must resemble a shotty ice skater as I slip and slide up the walkway. I just about take out an elf and curse when the heel of my stiletto snaps.

“Bad idea. Bad idea.” I should have stayed home. Ordered in Christmas dinner. Made sure my couch wasn’t lonely. Your family needs you. You need them too. Shut up, conscience! I remember my mom’s voice when I told her I was coming home, which makes the guilt surface again, knowing how selfish I’ve been the past five years. With my brother gone, I’m their constant concern.

This is right. I need to be here for them. The look on my mom’s face when she sees me… she’s probably going to cry and stuff me with Christmas cookies before I can even get my jacket off. I’m shocked she wasn’t stalking the window for my arrival.

I drag my suitcases up the porch steps to the front door. Get through the holidays, then I can be home putting my life back together. I hope Mom made my favorite—the gingerbread cookies with the sprinkle buttons.

I turn the knob and push open the door. “I’m home!” I sing, waiting for my first cookie. The overwhelming scent of sugar. The crackling of the fire. A Christmas Story playing in the background.

There’s nothing.

No cookies.

No smells.

Nothing.

“Hello? Mom? Dad?”

I’m met with silence. “What the…? Hello? Anyone home? I’m here!” I kick off my heels and look around. There has to be a mistake. Did I give them the wrong time? I grab my phone and pull up the email I sent Mom. Nope, it’s right. Where the heck are they? I drop my suitcases and shimmy out of my jacket, tossing it on the back of the couch as I walk through the house. I gaze at the missing fire and head into the kitchen. Not a single sheet of cookies, just a note.

Holly,

Dad and I are at the hardware store.

Mom.

Am I seeing things? My parents, who have been dying for me to come home, aren’t here to greet me? Dropping the note, I head to my old room, throw myself on my bed, and stare up at the glow-in-the-dark stars. I loved these stars as a kid. My brother Billy spent an entire day jumping up and sticking them perfectly so they would resemble a map of the galaxy. Every night, we would lay in my bed, and he would teach me anything and everything about astronomy.

Hating the heaviness in my heart that the memories conjure up, I lock them back down and get up. It’s a short walk downtown from the house, so I dig a pair of winter boots out of the closet and head out to enjoy the overwhelming holiday spirit.

The snow crunches under my boots, leaving footprints in the powdery snow. The faint sound of singing tickles my eardrums, and I spy a group of carolers outside the Wilsons’ house. Through the different frosted windows I pass, Christmas trees glitter brightly, and each house flickers with an array of dazzling lights. I snuggle into my jacket, feeling the warmth the holiday spirit offers.

Willow Falls has always been beautiful. A quaint little town stuck in the middle of nowhere. From the gigantic Easter egg hunt and the turkey races to the Fourth of July potluck and fireworks, holidays are a huge deal here. But nothing tops Christmas.

The town square comes into view, and my heart sings. I may have been in a hurry to get out of this town, but my love of these little things never changes. The beauty in the town square is like no other, from the old historical buildings to the ancient basswood and birch trees. And it’s impossible to miss the gigantic Christmas tree with the town’s worker bees wrapping it in time for the lighting ceremony tomorrow night. It’s one of the biggest events of the season and my favorite time of year. It used to be our favorite time of year…

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