12 Naughty Days of Christmas 2018

by Isabella Kole

  A few hours later, she stopped and picked up her phone again and dialed. “Hello, my name is Ellie and I’m calling about the Allen Mansion scheduled to be on your Christmas walk in about two weeks. Yes, we are planning to be part of it, and I was wondering if you could give me a list of sponsors I can contact. We just moved in and I’m a little behind. Thank you so much. Yes, we love the house already. I do have a pen.”

  Sliding her phone back in her pocket, she put on a brightly colored Christmas sweater, slid into a pair of warm lined boots and grabbed her heavy winter coat from the front closet. Time for those errands, before the furniture arrived in about two hours.

  Luke walked toward the door, as anxious as he’d felt in a long time. Would he still have his belongings? Would Ellie still be there? Had she just been a phantom of his lonely imagination? Was he going insane – that wasn’t even a question in his mind. Quite obviously he was well on his way. He really hoped he enjoyed the journey.

  Stopping on the walk, he looked at his front door, where a blue and silver holiday wreath hung, twinkling in the street light glow. Okay, he knew for a fact he hadn’t bought that, and didn’t own a wreath. He’d dumped all his Christmas things when he moved. He wasn’t planning to celebrate anything, so why bother? He did need to call the Historical Society and tell them his house wouldn’t be on the walk list. They would understand. He’d just moved in. He just started a new job. His wife just died. So many reasons and any one of them would work. People were understanding for the most part. It wouldn’t be the end of the walk and he’d make a nice donation to their charity – whatever it was – to make up it to them. They’d like that.

  He walked in the door, tempted to take the wreath with him, just to make sure it was real, but was immediately distracted by the enticing smells coming from his kitchen. Well, she hadn’t stolen his cookware anyway. Cookies, too? His stomach growled and he realized he’d worked through lunch today. Good thing tomorrow was Saturday and he could be home all day. With her? No, he told himself, just home. He wasn’t going to start expecting her to be here. That was ridiculous and, as a finance guy – as his wife had called him – he was far from ridiculous.

  Stopping in the tv room, he stared. Well, his furniture had shown up, apparently. When he left this morning, the couch he’d bought here the day he moved in, was the only piece of furniture in the room. Now there were a couple chairs, some throws that looked seasonally appropriate, a footstool, some little tables and lamps. There were even a few pictures on the walls. Some things he recognized, some he didn’t. It looked like a home and not a stark, lonely room. Some place he might want to come home to, instead of a hotel he just came and went from.

  Walking into the kitchen, he saw a most enticing sight. His Christmas Elf, bent over in front of the oven, taking out a hot batch of what he assumed was cookies. At least he now knew she didn’t twitch her nose and create things out of nothing. Leggings suited her adorable bottom, he decided.

  “Thank you,” she said, putting the cookies on the stove but not turning around. “You can have one before dinner, but save the rest for dessert. You need to eat a decent meal since you skipped the lunch I packed you.”

  He’d forgotten all about that, and how did she know?

  She turned to face him, holding a warm cookie in her hand, that he took gratefully. “Go change, if you want to,” she suggested. “I’m going to heat up the bread.” She smiled at him. “Yes, it’s homemade. Go change.”

  Did she read minds? he wondered, as he went to the bedroom to change. There was his table in the dining room, with a new holiday tablecloth on it, and a large centerpiece that made it feel festive.

  Why was he just passively going along with all this? Shock, he decided, or something in the delicious cookies that tasted like the ones he remembered his grandmother making. He needed to shake himself up. No one just had a Christmas Elf show up on their doorstep. She came from somewhere, someone. Maybe his wife sent her from above. No. If she could send, she would come herself. His mom? It was something she would do, but she was on a month long cruise in Europe somewhere. He doubted she did it from overseas. Hanging his suit in the closet, he noted that she’d unpacked the rest of his clothes and it all looked fresh and wrinkle free. Opening a dresser drawer, he saw his tee shirts and socks were all there too. Had she hired a team to come in today? He hadn’t been able to get this much done in the week and a half he’d lived here. How much was this costing him? Did she need to be on his payroll? Was she hiding from an abusive husband or a shady past?

  So many questions, and yet the minute he walked in the room, and saw her amazing smile, gorgeous blue eyes, and bouncing brown curls, he simply didn’t ask them. Why not?

  “Supper,” came her lilting voice with the strange accent.

  He needed to be strong – alpha, dominant – and find out what was going on with her. He had no issue with taking care of a damsel in distress, but why not just say that instead of inventing something about being an elf, of all things? There were no elves except in children’s stories. He didn’t like liars and wouldn’t have one living in his house, though he already knew he did. He had to. What other explanation could there be?

  “Do elves drink?” he asked, sitting down and noting the two wine glasses by the bowls.

  “We don’t have many rules,” she confided, spooning a big helping of steaming, fragrant stew into his bowl. “Our biggest one is ‘Be a helper’ and that is why I’m here with you. You need a helper.”

  He tried to focus a stern look at her, but took a bite of stew and melted. He hadn’t had stew like this since he and his wife honeymooned in Ireland. This was fantastic. He took three more bites while she laughed.

  “There’s plenty. Slow down.”

  He swallowed. “Who said I needed a helper?”

  “You did, the night I came in,” she said. “And you were right! There is so much to do. I have our weekend all planned out.”

  “What?” Where was his alpha when he needed it?

  “Yes. Tonight, I’ll show you what all got done today, and then we can watch a Christmas movie before you go to bed. I think Rudolph is on tonight. I just love Burl Ives, don’t you?”

  What?

  “Then, you can go to bed early because we have an early appointment tomorrow at the tree farm. I think we will need four, plus greenery. I think it will snow. Won’t that be perfect, picking out trees in the snow?” She smiled up at him again.

  Tree farm.

  “After that, we will get them set up, and hopefully the decorations will be here by then,” She leaned forward, handing him a piece of homemade bread slathered with garlic butter, he could tell by the smell, his favorite. “I put a rush on them.”

  “Of course you did,” he said. Decorations.

  “Well, the charity walk is a week from tomorrow. We have to get things done,” she said, nibbling on a piece of bread.

  He took a few more bites of stew and relaxed. “And you have it all planned out, do you?”

  She smiled and patted his hand. “Of course I do. More planned than you know.”

  “I bet you have a lot of things planned for me, don’t you?”

  She showed him her dimples. “Would you have it any other way? Now, more stew? I’ll start the hot chocolate for the movie. Christmas cookies, hot chocolate and Rudolph. What could possibly be a better way to start the season?”

  “Any chance I can get a drop of something in my hot chocolate?” He needed a drink. This wine was good, but he needed something stronger.

  Touching his nose with her finger, she giggled and said, “Of course! All the marshmallows you want!”

  Yeah. That is exactly what he meant.

  “Ready to see your house?” she asked after he had finished his stew, noting once again the only thing she ate was the bread.

  “Sure,” he said. Why not? It was his house. He might as well know what was going on in it.

  “I assume you saw the family room and the dining room on the way to
your bedroom? Well, here we go to the formal living room. Now, I think we need the biggest tree in here, don’t you? In front of the bay window to be seen from the sidewalk?”

  She asked as if it were a question, but he knew it wasn’t. “Good idea,” he said, wondering how much all this would cost him.

  “Then, a smaller one in the dining room, of course.”

  Of course. “How about the tv room?”

  “Oh, naturally, that is where all the presents will go!” she cooed at him.

  Who was getting presents? No one that he knew of.

  “Now, then, there is the upstairs window, in the front bedroom. I think we need a blue and silver tree there to go with the wreath on the front door and the blue and silver lights you’ll be putting up tomorrow.”

  Lights. On this house. “I’m sleeping in that room now,” she confided. “I rather like it and it will feel so festive with the tree. We will do greenery on the staircase, and on the fireplace mantel, of course, and some on the little tables and, oh, we have to have mistletoe.”

  What? He shook his head. No, we— he— didn’t have to have mistletoe. Why?

  “You look like you’re getting tired. Come on, cookies and hot chocolate and Rudolph, then I’ll tuck you into bed.” She took him by the hand and almost danced into the living room. “You just get all comfy on the couch and I’ll bring it in.”

  He should be serving her. She’d put in just as long a day as he had, longer.

  “Oh, by the way, we’re hosting brunch for friends Sunday,” she announced as she walked back in carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and the cookies.

  He’d had enough. “Who are you?”

  She sighed. “I thought we covered this, I’m Ellie.”

  “You know what we are going to cover?” He’d had enough. “Your ass with my handprints if you don’t start giving me a little more information.”

  “I was told that might be a downside to being your elf.” She sighed again. “I’m willing to accept it.”

  “Accept what?” Fine, once again he felt dumbfounded. How did she do that to him?

  “Going over your knee, of course.” She blinked slowly at him. “I understand.”

  He shut his mouth before he could ask ‘Understand what?’ because, really, was he going to get an answer? No.

  “I’ll give you the weekend,” he said, he thought magnanimously. “But you won’t be able to sit next week if I don’t.”

  “You won’t and I have too much to do to sit much. Oh, look, it’s starting!”

  She turned her attention to the television while he stared at her. Did he have an elf with a spanking fetish? What were the odds? Maybe they all did; how would he know? He accepted the mug she handed him and took a cookie, while she curled up right beside him as if she belonged.

  Maybe she did. One more thing he didn’t know, and right now, he didn’t care. He felt comfortable for the first time since his wife died. Not quite happy and extremely confused and befuddled, which seemed the perfect word for his state, but very comfortable right now.

  Chapter 2

  “So, who are we throwing brunch for tomorrow?” he asked her as they drove to the tree farm. He’d forgotten to ask last night.

  “Oh, a couple new friends. You need to meet people here in town, get social, have a life,” she told him. “Stormy and Lily and their husbands. Lily owns the flower shop that is donating some of the decor for the walk next weekend and wants to come see the house. Stormy owns the pet store and is bring over a few adoptable dogs to let people see as they walk through. So, of course, she needs to see where they will go. Their husbands are your kind of people. You will like them.”

  Naturally. “I’m having dogs in my house?”

  She patted his hand in a manner he was growing used to. “Dogs are lovely creatures. My boss has several.”

  “But you don’t?”

  “I have a project,” she said, as if that explained anything. “Turn left up here. There’s a parking spot over there.”

  Second night in a row he’d slept well, and he couldn’t believe what a difference it made in his day. He found himself almost looking forward to traipsing around in the cold crunchy grass and letting her pick out trees. He didn’t delude himself he was anything more than a driver and agree-er. There would be trees and something called decor in his house and a bunch of strangers would come and look at them. Why, again? He wasn’t sure about anything. Still.

  This morning, he’d told himself, before she fed him the best French toast he’d ever had, he would go along until tomorrow. He hoped she would dribble details as the weekend went on. He’d been serious, though. If she didn’t tell him, her butt would be over his knee until she did.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed as they pulled into a parking spot. “Look, Dave, it’s snowing!”

  “Dave? Now what? Was she changing his name?

  Giggling, Ellie said, “A Christmas song, by Alvin and the Chipmunks. Have you never heard it?”

  “Chipmunks sing about a man named Dave wanting snow? That sounds... plausible.” He’d heard of them, of course, and felt weird, was he teasing her? Like everything else, that made no sense.

  “I’ll play it for you on the way home,” she told him. “Let’s go pick out trees in the snow. Could it be any more perfect? Be warned, though, I’ll need to be warmed up as soon as we get home.”

  Okay, where did his mind just go? But all he said was, “Elves don’t like to be cold.”

  “Right!” She beamed at him. “But we do love snow!”

  Which made total sense. He looked at her as they walked across the lot. She looked like perfection almost dancing in glee, with her curls and fuzzy blue coat and dark pants, boots, and gloves. Once again, he wondered where all her clothes came from. They sure weren’t in that small suitcase. Maybe she had them shipped while he was at work? How would he know? He wouldn’t. She might have a whole slew of elf seamstresses working on new clothes every night. He bit back a snort. Yeah, that was as logical as anything else that had happened in the last few days.

  “This one!” she said, smiling at him, with snow glistening on her curls. “Perfect for our family room.”

  To him, it looked like every other tree in the lot, but he smiled and said, “Perfect! One down, three to go.” Wait, what? Our family room? When did his house that he’d paid for become ours? Next thing you knew ‘we’ would be married with a litter of half elf children. Was that even possible?

  She put her hand on his arm, smiled up at him and said, “Yes, it is.” Then danced off toward the next perfect tree. He was getting a little freaked out. Suddenly he realized, though, he didn’t feel anxious and wrong, like he had for the past two years. Last holiday season he ignored; so deep in grief he couldn’t deal. He had planned to ignore this one too, but apparently thanks to his Christmas Elf, that wasn’t happening. After his wife passed, he’d decided he would never feel anything again. He thought that was what he was doing, but instead, he just constantly felt depressed. Following a dancing elf across the tree lot, he realized a fog had started to lift. He was going to go with it, for now, but he still planned to spank some truth out of her tomorrow.

  “You won’t,” her lilting voice floated back to him.

  Go with it, Luke, he told himself, again. “Bet you I will,” and picked up his pace to catch up with her to band the next perfect tree she picked up.

  “Am I really paying for four trees?” he complained to her, pulling out his card later.

  “And delivery!” she told him. “Oh, and the greenery too. Isn’t the house going to smell wonderfully like Christmas?”

  “It will,” he agreed. “Come on, I’m taking you out to lunch.”

  Ellie almost frowned. She didn’t want to go out to eat. She wanted to go home and put up the greenery and decorate the trees that would be delivered in just a few hours, but an hour of lunch wouldn’t hurt anything. Brightening she said, “Maybe we can eat somewhere downtown and then do just a tiny bit of window shop
ping? Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  “Every man’s dream,” he said, making her giggle. He was turning a corner. She could almost see the depression lifting from him. He’d been too close to, well, she didn’t want to think of it; but now, she felt he was almost safe.

  Patting his hand, she said, “I know! Window shopping in the snow with a handsome man by my side. It’s like a Christmas movie!”

  He threw her a look and asked, “Are you an actress?”

  “Nope, I’m just Ellie,” she said. “I think there is a little cafe a few miles down this next road if you turn right. I hear they have wonderful pie.”

  “Do you eat pie?”

  “Of course, I eat pie! Everyone eats pie! I think they even have cherry cheesecake.”

  “My favorite,” he said.

  “Really?” She could feel his mind racing again, and to distract him, asked, “Do you think the trees and decorations will be there when we get home? I’m so looking forward to this walk, aren’t you?”

  “I honestly don’t know anything about it,” he admitted. “I’ve not really paid too much attention.”

  “Well, you bought an historical house, you know, and it’s part of the town history. There are several of them, and they all decorate rooms and people buy tickets and go look at the houses all decorated up for Christmas. The money from the tickets goes to the local food banks so they can give food baskets to families that would be blessed by them over the holidays. Isn’t that lovely? People are so giving and thoughtful.” She could tell he didn’t really agree with her, but decided to let it go. He’d learn.

  “There will be a parking spot about a block away from the cafe,” she told him. “We can walk in the snow!”

  Laughing, she saw him shake his head as he pulled into the parking spot right where she knew it would be. She looked up and down the holiday decorated street and smiled up at him. “Isn’t it wonderful?”