Matchsticks and Candy Canes

by C. E. Wilson

  “You said it to me!” Brynne retorted.

  And then finally it dawned on Carter what his compliment had implied and his cheeks streaked with red as well. “I meant you have a good tongue!” he sputtered. “I mean taste buds! You have a way of knowing what’s good!” He shook his head as she filled the bakery with melodic giggling. “Oh man, you have a way of getting me tongue tied. How do you do that?” He leaned forward, took her small hand on his finger and kissed it. “You make me laugh, you know? Nervous, but in a good way.” He shrugged it off and leaned back to finish the rest of his scones.

  Brynne fingered the spot his lips had touched, burning up from the contact.

  “I think I make you talk a lot, too,” she said, brushing her hand in a parody of a shove against his leg. Carter grinned down at her, mirroring her expression.

  A spark ignited inside her, alerting her that this was a connection that came once in a lifetime.

  She was only going to get one Carter, and she didn’t even know how long he’d be in her life.

  The thought was both haunting and beautiful.

  Sitting on the floor in front of the heater, they talked and teased and joked the afternoon away. Soon, the sun was low in the sky and approaching the horizon.

  “I should probably take you back soon,” Carter said, glancing towards the large bay window of the shop. “I can’t believe we spent the whole day together. Time went far too fast, huh?”

  Brynne couldn’t help nodding. There was such a bittersweet truth to his statement. She didn’t want the day to end. Reality descended on her like a shroud: she hadn’t sold a thing in two days and her father’s wrath would be a thing to behold. At least she would bring back a lot of food. Maybe that would spare her the worst of it.

  “He’ll let you back in again, won’t he?” Carter’s voice pulled her worries back to his face. “Your father?” he questioned. “There’s no way he’s going to make you sleep on the streets again, is he? I’m not going to let that happen again.”

  “Of course not,” Brynne said dismissively, an unconvincing edge to her voice. She stood up and slid into her tattered coat, tugging at the sleeves to get the illusion of a better fit. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure.” She visibly hesitated before daring to ask a favor. “Would you, I mean, do you think you’d be okay helping me with my cart? Normally, I wouldn’t bother for help but, it’s probably a lot easier for you than it is for me.”

  Carter stood up, reached for his own coat and easily tugged it on. “Would I be a gentleman if I didn’t help a lady out with her cart? Of course I was already planning to help you, Brynne. I can carry the cart the whole way back to your house if you want me to.”

  “You don’t have to walk me back the whole way,” Brynne said, growing nervous. “Just to the edge of my neighborhood would be more than helpful enough.”

  Carter hummed as he walked to the front of the shop and looked over the cart. “I think I can handle that little thing,” he said with a chuckle. He bent at the knee and turned to look back at her as he tugged on his hat and scarf. He reached into his pockets to get his gloves.

  “You know what’s funny?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Compared to the rest of my family, I’m not that strong,” he said sheepishly. “My dad and all my uncles are taller than I am. Even my older sister is the same height as me.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I guess to you, my life does seem pretty easy.” He beckoned her over with one hand. “We should get going soon though so you’re home before dark.”

  “Right. You can, um. Follow me, I guess,” she said as he opened the door.

  She was cold again before she even reached the cart as the wind discovered every hole and loose seam on her coat. When she reached the cart, she was surprised to see another set of small footprints around it. She looked closely at one. “My mother must have come by to check on me while we were together,” she said in a low voice. “I hope she isn’t worried.”

  “Everything okay?” Carter asked as he stowed the leftovers from lunch and a wrapped scone on the little cart.

  “It looks like someone came to check on me. That means that my dad is sober again and will let me back in the house. I told you I would be okay. I mean it.”

  He looked at her for a moment, then hefted the cart.

  She tried to keep her pace up for Carter, but the ground was slick with black ice amongst the cobblestones, and some slushy snow still penetrated through the dragging ends of her pants. She shivered and kept going. It wasn’t so hard to stay strong this time; Carter’s steps behind her reminded her she wasn’t alone, and the trek was easier with a full belly for once. She led him to the pubs at the edge of town, and came to a halt. Well-to do elves and poor humans lived here in cheap house and trailers. The poor elves lived off the side of the road around the bend in shacks, her family amongst them. She didn’t want him to see any further.

  He didn’t have to see the pitiful shack she called home.

  “This is good,” she chirped, an edge to her voice. “Y-you can leave me here.”

  “You live here?” Carter asked hesitantly. He tried not to show his surprise, but it was hard not to show a little concern. Brynne’s part of town looked more like a slum than a neighborhood. Was this the life the elves had to live? He thought of his home, the large colonial with five bedrooms and compared it to the jumble of human trailers and small wooden elf homes. It could be worse, he thought, feeling huge and out of place in his expensive peacoat and gloves.

  “Not here, exactly,” Brynne said, shaking him from his thoughts and taking a few steps away so she could see his face more clearly. “My home is only around the corner.” She pointed down the road out of town. “It’s not far. I can take it from here.”

  “Are you sure?” Carter still looked worried. He squinted his eyes as he tried to figure out which home was hers. He had never felt so strange in his own skin. This was Brynne’s world – and he felt completely out of place in it. “I don’t mind—”

  “You should head home,” Brynne reminded him. “Before it gets dark for you too.” She tried to grin, but the smile wouldn’t reach her eyes.

  “I think I’ll be okay,” Carter said, lowering himself into a crouching position. He noticed a number of elf children poking their heads out from the front doors of their diminutive homes, some even brave enough to stand on the porches or in the driveways. He bit his lip and lowered Brynne’s cart in front of her. “I think we’re being watched,” he whispered.

  “They’ll do more than that if we don’t wrap it up,” Brynne said nervously. She recognized a few of the younger kids as peers of her younger siblings. She inched up to his knees, wringing her hands together. “I’ll miss you, Carter. I won’t forget today. Not ever.” She smiled gently, beckoning him down closer before she kissed his cheek, and lingered a bit to brush the shape of his chin in case it was the last time. Then she stepped back and gripped the familiar handles of her cart.

  “Bye, Carter,” she called, then started to push the heavy cart.

  “Bye, Brynne.”

  The rickety wooden wheels of her cart echoed in the air as he stood up and ran a hand across the top of his knit hat. There was so much more he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to remember today because he wanted to spend the next day with her. And the one after that. And while he had some comfort knowing that he could ask her inside as soon as she showed up, it was still hard to watch her go. She looked natural walking down the street in her neighborhood – if it could even be called that.

  The elf side of town was more like a slum, and it upset him to know that she fit so well against the background.

  His hand twitched as he watched her disappear down a corner as a daring thought occurred to him.

  He could go to her.

  It would only take a few steps and he could easily catch up to her.

  He could tell her he liked her.

  He could tell her he wanted to spend more
time with her, but his feet wouldn’t move and the words wouldn’t come.

  Frowning, he instead dug his hands into the pockets of jeans and headed back towards a part of town which made him feel normal again. He didn’t go straight home, though.

  It was getting dark by the time he pushed open the door of the toy shop he had seen earlier in the day.

  “That doll,” Carter said, nodding his head towards the front window. “How much is it?”

  “Which doll?” The man at the counter didn’t bother to raise his head from his paperwork.

  “Chasing Winter,” Carter said. “How much?”

  “Sixty dollars.”

  His hazel eyes widened. “For a doll?”

  “That ain’t any doll,” the man said. “Handmade clothing. Leather boots and denim stockings. The sweater is 100% ribbed cashmere and the coat is 100% cotton. And that scarf and hat?”

  “Cashmere?” Carter guessed with a frown.

  “You got it,” he sneered. “Leather gloves lined with cashmere. Oh to be a doll,” he clucked. “And the necklace? That’s white gold with a 1/10 carat diamond center. The snowflake charm is silver.” He looked up for the first time and saw the boy across the counter slumped in defeat. “Now, if you don’t have the funds for such a gem – and I’m assuming you don’t – please take a look around and see if anything else meets your fancy.”

  Carter’s frown grew deeper before he remember the twenty in his wallet. “Can I put it on hold?”

  “On hold?” the man asked, lowering his paper. “For how much? And how long?”

  “I have a twenty,” Carter said. “And I’ll have the rest by Christmas.”

  The cashier arched a brow, not bothering to hide his interest. “You know that if you don’t pay the rest by Christmas that I’ll keep the twenty?” he asked in a challenging voice.

  Carter nodded.

  Finally, the man smiled. “In that case, I think we can work something out.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  For the first time, the small shack felt vast. Vast and empty and silent. Trash littered the floor and half of the furniture was gone. It looked like the house had been robbed, or that the residents had left in a great hurry.

  Brynne sat alone at the rickety table, her tears dripping onto a hastily-scrawled note from her mother. She had read it three or four times now, and its message was finally starting to sink in.

  Dear Brynne,

  I looked for you but couldn’t find you. A human came by in a truck looking for elf workers for his factory down south of here. It’s a regular paycheck for your father. We have to take it. Take care of the house and we’ll try to come back to see you in the spring if we can. You’re strong enough to do this, I know that you are.

  Love,

  Mom

  Everyone was gone. Everyone but her.

  Her mother’s promise to visit was sweet, but it was a sweet lie. They would never come back here. They would follow the work. She would never see her family again.

  The house was hers. A drafty, empty house and a cart of matchsticks and old chestnuts. That was all that Brynne had. No family. No friends. No relatives.

  Carter flashed across her mind. A boy she had met only a few days ago. Him and the warmth of Sweet Mix and his kind voice and strong arms. How long before he came to his senses and realized that she was just another poor elf trying to survive in a world that didn’t want her? A witch, Santa’s Reject, to be spit upon and cursed and feared and looked down on. She shook her head, tears twisting and blurring her vision as she staggered back to the dirty mattress that was her bed.

  He had said it himself. He wasn’t even the same as her.

  ***

  In the grey light of dawn, Carter let out his breath of relief as he turned the corner. The cart was not across from Sweet Mix. Brynne had not slept outside last night. Humming another Christmas carol, he entered Sweet Mix.

  “Good morning,” he called out to the empty store.

  Uncle Jeremy poked his head out from the baking room. “Morning, Carter. I see you put my ovens to good use. The place smells great, by the way. What did you make?”

  “Candy cane and hot chocolate scones,” he said, removing his coat. “How did the Christmas festival turn out?”

  “You know me, boyo. I aim to please,” Uncle Jeremy said. He emerged from the back, wiping his floury hands on his apron. “There was a surprise wedding there too, and guess who won the cake contest? Nothing beats a Christmas wedding cake. The red velvet turned out swimmingly.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Wish I could have tried a piece.”

  “From the looks of it, you certainly weren’t hurting for sweets here. Seriously Carter, I tried one of those scones. They’re great – for an amateur I mean. They were a little denser than I prefer. I’d like to replicate the recipes and sell them tomorrow and the 22nd.”

  “Really?” Carter couldn’t hide his surprise as he started counting the register drawer. Once in a while he glanced out the window expecting to see the little cart coming up the street, but nothing came. He told himself that it was still early. After the early rush had slowed down, his Uncle came over and stood next to him.

  “What is it?” Carter asked.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me if you can let the elf in the here today?”

  Carter’s eyes widened. “Uh yeah, actually. That would be great.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Wow, seriously?” Carter beamed for a moment. “Why?”

  “If that elf can help you create those scones, I’m certainly not going to turn her away. You can bring her in as soon as she arrives. Anytime she wants to come in, she can – so long as she remains hidden. That rule is still in effect, I’m afraid.”

  “Great,” Carter said, not wanting to get too caught up, “but that’s not what I want.”

  “Oh?” Jeremy removed his glasses and cleaned off the frames. Once they were settled he focused his attention on Carter. “And what is it, then? What do I have to pay the next great baker of this town for his secret recipe?”

  Carter blushed. “Can I have forty dollars?” He held up his hands as his uncle’s eyes widened. “As a loan! I swear I can pay you back after I get my Christmas money. It’s important that I have the money before then.” He lowered his head as his uncle fell silent before he finally worked up the courage to speak again. “I’m sorry to ask. I’ll pay you back on the 26th. I promise.”

  His uncle gave in faster than Carter could have hoped for.

  “What the hell. It’s Christmas.” The hefty man reached into his back pocket and dug out two wrinkled twenty dollar bills from his wallet. “I’m sure you’ll make good use of this, anyhow. You’re a good fella, Carter.” He pat the boy warmly on the back which made his knees buckle. “Now,” His uncle said, shifting around to re-arrange a few Christmas tree shaped bread loaves on their sturdy shelves. “Be honest with me, Carter. Is this for an apology gift for that elf?”

  “Why would you ask?”

  “That little girl selling matches and whatnot. Haven’t seen her all day.” His uncle shrugged. “It’s not like her to not be out and about, already.”

  Carter glanced out the window. “You’re right,” he muttered. “She’s usually out there by now.”

  “And Marvin’s been visiting the girlfriend,” Uncle Jeremy explained. “So there’s no way he could have done anything to scare her. It’s almost Christmas. Prime selling time for that elf.”

  “Brynne.”

  “Huh?”

  “Her name. It’s Brynne.”

  “Brynne then. Did you do something to Brynne?”

  “No! Of course not.” He flushed. “Nothing that I thought scared her, at least.”

  “So what did you two end up doing yesterday?” He raised a brow at his nephew.

  “You saw for yourself. We cleaned up. We made scones. I took her to lunch.” His uncle’s eyes widened. “At one of those neutral places. I thought she had a good time.”

/>   “Someone mess with her?”

  Carter looked mortified. “No. At least nothing I couldn’t handle. I didn’t let anyone bother her and the place was nice. Or at least I thought so.”

  “Did you do anything that might have made her nervous?”

  “I did… kind of… kiss her,” Carter said, flashing his eyes up towards Jeremy. “That couldn’t have been it though, could it?” He searched his uncle’s eyes for an answer. “You don’t think that scared her off?”

  Uncle Jeremy raised his eyebrows, caught between looking impressed and flat out bewildered. He pinched his wide shoulders in a shrug at long last. “I’ve seen women do all sorts of things, Carter. They beg you to kiss them only to dump you when something prettier comes their way. Never try to understand a woman’s heart, boyo. They change like the wind.”

  Jeremy restocked the shelves while Carter watched, suddenly haunted by the way she reacted to him at her home. She practically shoved him away. She practically said good bye to him! He remembered watching her go the day before, watching her shoulders push the cart. He had wanted to go to her.

  He should have.

  “Carter, if you like the girl, go talk to her.”

  Carter was already moving to grab his coat. “You sure, Uncle Jeremy?”

  “A few words here and there never hurt. Be back by ten-thirty please. We’ll be busy today.”

  “And you’re serious? You don’t mind if I go to her? An elf?”

  “Ask me again and I’ll change my mind,” Jeremy said.

  “But she’s…” he muttered. “I thought you didn’t like them.”

  Jeremy stiffened. “I don’t pretend to understand what the appeal is, but I know what it’s like to like a girl. I’m not that old, Carter.”

  “But—”

  “Do you want me to forbid you to go?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, only half-kidding. “Do what you need to do and stop second guessing yourself. Action first, questions later.”