Forever Christmas

by Christine Lynxwiler

  I’m furious, but at the same time relieved. As long as I’m on the city council, there’s no chance of that happening.

  “What this means. . .” His tone is so condescending, like he’s proud of himself for breaking it down to simple terms for the little people. “. . .is that if you can vote unanimously to change the town name, we won’t even have to put it on the ballot.”

  “And if we have a sudden heat wave tonight, we won’t have to put on our coats when we go outside. I’d say that’s more likely than his scenario,” I mutter to Dottie, but she looks away.

  “Instead of voting your own personal preference, I’m asking you to vote what’s best for the constituents you represent.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Let’s do an off-the-record vote, so we’ll know where we stand. Everyone in favor of the name change and the advancement of our town raise your hand.”

  John Stone quickly thrusts his hand up.

  “Dottie?” Uncle Gus ducks his head and looks at Dottie from under his eyebrows. “You do want what’s best for the people of our town, right? Think of the books.”

  Dottie lifts her hand a little ways, then looks at me and drops it back to her lap. I’m angry, but at Uncle Gus, not at her.

  “Scott?”

  Scott shakes his head.

  Uncle Gus doesn’t even bother asking me.

  After the meeting breaks up, he sidles up to me. Okay, he probably just walks, but to me it feels like he sidles. “Kristianna.”

  “What?”

  “This name change is going to happen. If we hurry it along, the town would be able to do without things like your parking ticket money. I’m sure Summer Valley would give you a free spot in front of your store.”

  I snort. “Is that your idea of a bribe? A free parking place?”

  He holds up his hands as if he’s warding me off.

  “Because if it is, you need to go back to sleazy con artist school.”

  I leave him with his mouth open and hurry out to the street.

  No sudden heat wave came while we were in the meeting, so I pull my coat around me and walk down the sidewalk, until I come to the gazebo in the middle of the town square. The streets are deserted, so I slip into the dome and sit on a bench along the side.

  Everything is changing. Deep in my heart, I’m afraid Uncle Gus is right. The name change probably will happen. And our heritage will be lost. My grandmother’s years of work to make Jingle Bells a great place to live and raise kids will be for nothing. I glance up at the sky. When I was little I’d wish on the first star of the evening. But now, I pour out my heart in prayer to the Creator of the stars.

  My life is so mixed up right now and I don’t know what to do. I’m thankful for the blessings I have, but am I about to lose them all? Lord, please help me get control of things. The twinkling stars are blurry through my tears. On second thought, Lord, help me let go of control and leave that for You. What I need is wisdom. If I’m being selfish about the town name change, please allow me to see that. Because otherwise I’m going to keep fighting.

  I pray for a while longer, then get up and walk across the street to my shop. My nose is frozen, but my heart has thawed considerably.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next day, an hour before the shop closes, the door chime rings and Ami walks in. “Hey, girl.” She still has that radiant new bride look. “What’s going on?”

  “After-Christmas sales weren’t so hot.” Should be the busiest time of year for me except the two weeks before Christmas. But surprise, surprise, this year is a disappointment. “I’m marking things down.” I pitch her a red marker. “Make yourself useful.”

  She catches it deftly and grins. “Oh, fun. This is just like playing store when we were kids. Are you finally going to let me decide on my own how much to charge for things?”

  “Not a chance. Here’s a list with the new prices.” I pass her the paper and go back to writing on the tiny tags. “How’s it going at school? The kids about to get used to calling you Mrs. Andrews?”

  She looks up from her table of items with a grimace. “Most of them have gotten used to it faster than I have. I keep forgetting to answer to that name. So, now they say, ‘Mrs. Andrews. Mrs. Andrews? Miss Manchester!’ Then I look up. Sad really.”

  I laugh. “I’d hate to have to start calling you something different just because you’re married.”

  “It’s weird. You’ll see when you get married.”

  Yeah, well. . .“I’ll just take your word for it. How was bowling last night?” Even though I complain about being no good, I didn’t realize how much I would hate to miss it. Maybe because it was the last night until April. Or maybe it’s just the fact that I was replaced by Lila. “Did Lila show?”

  “Oh, yes. And she’s obviously crazy about Garrett.” Ami shrugs. “But I’m not sure he feels the same.”

  “What makes you say that?” I try for a blend of interest and friendly concern. Hard when my claws just popped out involuntarily.

  “Oh I don’t know. You know how shy he is, so it’s hard to tell.”

  Shy? I hadn’t noticed really, but I guess with people he doesn’t know he is.

  “She asked him to go out to dinner and a movie next week and he told her he had too much going on right now. Does that sound like a guy who is interested?”

  My heart leaps. “I don’t know.” Since the mistletoe incident and the New Year’s Eve party, I’ve figured out I don’t know as much about Garrett as I thought I did. Maybe he likes Lila, but is playing hard to get.

  “I can’t imagine why he isn’t. Has he said anything to you about her?”

  “No, not a word. But other than at church, I haven’t seen him much since New Year’s.” Which isn’t unusual. What is unusual is now I find myself watching for him every time I walk to the post office or go out to get a bite to eat.

  “Well, you have to help me.”

  “Help you what?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Honestly I think you don’t listen to me sometimes. I’ve been telling you. We have to fix Garrett and Lila up.”

  I pause in the middle of marking down a set of nesting dolls. “Do you like Lila?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. But Mark says he’s pretty sure she’s a Christian and Garrett needs someone.”

  I have one thing to thank Shawn for. Even though the earth doesn’t move when I’m with him, at least his presence in town has saved me from the newly married Ami and her matchmaking craze.

  She grabs the nesting dolls.

  I raise an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ve been wanting this and now the price is right.”

  “You can have it.”

  “No way. It’s enough to get first dibs on your sale items.” She tucks it next to her. “I’ll just start me a pile and pay at the end.”

  I know better than to argue. “Whatever.”

  She marks another tag. “So what can we do?”

  “Do about what?”

  “Focus, girl. Garrett’s happiness is at stake. How can we fix them up?”

  I shrug. A reply forms in my mind, but before I say it, I’m already doubting my sincerity. Am I about to offer this only because I know she’ll refuse? So I’ll seem like I’m in the spirit? “Maybe I should quit the bowling team when we start back up in the spring.”

  “No! Don’t be silly. Garrett would have a fit if you quit. And I love our bowling nights. So does Mark.” She bounces up and down. “Oh, I know! Maybe we could get Shawn and Lila to join our team.”

  I can’t imagine a worse scenario.

  After a minute of silence, she looks over at me. “What do you think?”

  I open my mouth to make another suggestion, but instead, I say, “He kissed me.” As soon as the words are out, I cringe.

  She drops her marker and grabs my arm. “When?”

  “Hey! You messed up my tag.”

  “Forget your tag, when did he kiss you?”

  “Christmas Day.”

&
nbsp; “And you’re just now telling me?”

  I smile. I didn’t mean to blurt it out, but it’s a relief that she knows. “You were on your honeymoon. It probably wasn’t anything. We were under the mistletoe.”

  “I don’t care if you were under a whole tree full of mistletoe, a kiss is a kiss.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course, really. Take my word for it. Why are you not happy? Is it still because he’s a lawyer?”

  Huh? She’s rattling on about most lawyers being honest, but I put my hand on her arm. “Ami. Stop.”

  She shuts her mouth and looks at me. “What?”

  “Shawn didn’t kiss me.”

  Her eyebrows draw together. “But you said—”

  “Garrett kissed me.”

  Her eyes widen and she gasps. “Garrett?”

  I nod, my heart pounding, waiting for her reaction. Ami’s a little scatter-brained, but she has a good grasp on reality most of the time.

  She smiles. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “And how do you feel about it? About him?”

  “That’s the question of the year. Right up there with has he even given it a second thought? And is he avoiding me?”

  “I guarantee you he’s given it a second thought. And yes, he may be avoiding you.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  She shrugs. “I’m just being honest. Garrett would never ever kiss someone just because of mistletoe.” She bounces and claps her hands lightly. “I’ve been right all along. He’s crazy about you. And knowing him, he’s scared to find out how you feel.”

  I shake my head. “He’s not crazy about me. He called me ‘sport’ after the kiss and challenged me to a race.”

  She throws back her head and laughs, then looks at me. “He’s called you ‘sport’ since you were eight years old. Sometimes I wonder if he thinks that’s your name. And the challenge was just to give you a chance to act normal in case you don’t like him in that way. So do you? Like him in that way?”

  “I’m scared.” My voice trembles. I’ve barely admitted this even to myself.

  “Oh, Kristianna. Scared of what?” Sympathy blends with puzzlement in her tone.

  I sigh. So many things. “What if I let myself love him? And he loves me? But then something happens like. . .like you and I both know it can when I start trying to make a permanent commitment?”

  “This is Garrett. You’ve always loved him.” I open my mouth and she holds her hand up. “I know, as a friend. But the point is, you trust him completely. If things end up getting serious between you two, nothing bad is going to happen. Maybe it’s like you told me on my wedding day. Maybe he’s God’s man for you.”

  That thought makes it hard for me to breathe. In a good way. “But the two of you are the constants in my life since Gran died. I’m not sure anything is worth risking that.”

  She beams at me. “Finding the love of your life is worth the risk.”

  I frown. “I can’t even decide whether to call him to come work on my computer. Much less take that kind of chance.”

  She snorts and grabs a little snow village church building I just marked down. “Call him. He’ll kill you if you let anyone else touch your computer, so you have no choice about that.” She places the building in her pile. “And I’ll kill you if you don’t call me every time you’re doing markdowns.”

  ~~~~~

  “Is it my imagination or are we getting fewer positive responses than we did the past two weeks?” Ami leans against a signpost and slips her shoe off for a second.

  I nod. “It does seem like it. I guess Shawn has probably covered this ground already this week.”

  “That last man was downright belligerent. Why couldn’t he have just taken the flier and thanked us?”

  I glare over at the whiteboard house. “I don’t mind hearing what the people think, but I could have done without him siccing the dog on us.”

  She snickers and puts her shoe back on. “Yeah, I was really scared of the mini-pom. She couldn’t have gotten my little toe in her mouth, she was so tiny.”

  I grin. “I think it was the principle.”

  “I guess you’re right.” She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Onward and upward. And let’s pray we don’t run into any full-sized dogs.”

  “Amen.”

  But by the end of the morning, when we all meet back at the North Pole Café to report in, I’m fighting discouragement. And from the looks on their faces, my troops feel the same way.

  And to make matters worse, Shawn is sitting in a booth in the corner, his attaché case on the table. Of all the cafés in all the world, he had to wander into mine. He looks up and smiles. If my feet didn’t hurt so badly, I’d walk over and tell him again how much he and his petition irritate me, but it’s all I can do to plunk down at Scott’s table near the door.

  Shawn saves me the trouble, though, when he walks over as soon as I sit down. “Hi,” he says softly.

  The chatter at our group of tables dies immediately.

  I nod. “Shawn.”

  “Can I talk to you for a minute outside?” he asks, giving a nervous look to the hostile-looking group I’m with.

  I don’t like scenes all that much, so I stand and follow him out the door. “What’s this about?”

  “Would you like to go out tonight? Maybe drive into Little Rock and eat?”

  I look toward the window of the café, where twenty faces are peering out at us. “Fraternizing with the enemy? I don’t think so.”

  He runs his hand through his hair. “What about when I finish getting the signatures and my job’s over? Can we go out then?”

  I don’t know what to say. I’ve never mentioned the gifts and notes because that’s one of those things that feels like if you talk about it, the appeal will be gone. But I’ve stopped thinking that the anonymous gifts are a Summer Valley Outdoors plan. I’m sure they’re all Shawn. “I don’t know. Maybe. Can we talk about it again at that time?”

  He nods. “That sounds fair.” He glances over my shoulder and flashes me a grin. “I’ll let you go. Looks like the natives are restless.”

  I turn and go back into the café.

  “Is he trying to convince you to change sides?” Ruby asks.

  I shake my head. “That was personal. So how did it go today?”

  “People would tell me they signed the petition already,” Ruby says. “Then I would explain to them. . .like you said. . .” She nods at me. “. . .that they don’t have to vote that way just because they signed the petition.” Her shoulders fall. “But while no one acted happy about the name change, everyone seems resigned to it.”

  Echoes of the same came from around the tables.

  After everyone else leaves, I linger to talk to Scott. “Where was Dottie today?”

  “She said something about getting her hair done.” He tugs at his collar. “But I think she’s about to switch sides on us, Kristianna.”

  Ouch. “The idea of a children’s wing in the library is too much for her to withstand.” I frown. “Just like Uncle Gus knew it would be.”

  “Yeah, he made it seem mighty tempting, I admit.”

  I look at him sharply. “Are you tempted to switch sides?”

  “No. Call me an idiot, but my daddy always told me that sometimes you gotta draw a line and not cross it. Changing the name of Jingle Bells is my line.”

  “Me, too.” We sit in silence for a minute. I play with the salt and pepper shakers and finally look him in the eye. “Scott, do you think we’re representing the people, though? Our constituents? That’s the only thing Uncle Gus has said this whole time that bothered me. I don’t want to be a public servant who uses her office to further her own agenda.”

  Scott takes his glasses off and cleans them with his napkin. He pins me with his slightly myopic gaze. “I ask every local who comes into my bookstore which they would prefer. Without fail everyone says they want to keep the name.”

  I feel my shoulders relax in
places I didn’t even know they were tight. “So we are doing what the people want.”

  “Except. . .” He slips his glasses back on and regards me sadly.

  How did I know there’d be a “but” in there somewhere?

  “. . .they all want to make a living. And they think the only way to do that is to change the name and embrace Summer Valley.”

  I slam the salt shaker down harder than I mean to. “I hate to see them bullied into giving up their heritage.”

  He nods. “Me, too.”

  “I wish I could know what Gran would think about it.” She loved Christmas and Jingle Bells as much as I do. But would she give up the town name in order to save the citizens?

  Scott taps his notebook with his hand. “One thing’s for sure. Sally Harrington never could abide bullies.”

  “Well, then, maybe that’s our answer. Stand firm.”

  “Maybe so.” Scott pushes to his feet and holds up his folder that contains the flyers. “Same place, same time, next week.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I frown at my reflection in the mirror. Khaki pants and a blue blouse that everyone always tells me brings out the color of my eyes.

  Earth to Kristianna.

  This is just Garrett coming over to work on my computer. Not someone I need to try and impress. What am I doing changing clothes in the middle of the afternoon? Wouldn’t Gran laugh if she could see me in such a snit about the boy who spent as much time here as he did at his house when we were growing up?

  I quickly change again, slipping back into my work clothes—jeans and a Santa t-shirt. As I pull my hair back in a red scrunchie, I grimace. Just another good thing about living in Jingle Bells and owning Forever Christmas. I can get away with Christmas clothes year round. But for how much longer?

  Thanks to changing not once, but twice, I get back downstairs just as Garrett comes in, looking normal but nice in his jeans and a polo shirt. I bet he didn’t think about his clothes.

  “Hey, Garrett. I hated to bother you.” On the phone, I’d offered to bring my computer to him, but he insisted he didn’t mind coming here.