A Slice of Christmas Magic

by A. G. Mayes

  “This would be so much more romantic if we weren’t on the lookout for psycho villains,” I said.

  “We can make it romantic.” He gently brushed the hair out of my eyes and put his hand behind my neck, pulling me in for a kiss.

  I heard what sounded like a sneeze. Or was it laughter? I really had to get my own place, so my new love life wasn’t critiqued from the next room. Henry headed for the door and I turned to clear the table.

  “Weren’t there still cookies on this plate?” I asked. I held up the now perfectly clean green shiny plate.

  “You’re right, I thought there were still some,” Henry said.

  I looked around the room and my eyes landed on the dog, who was gently wagging his tail.

  “Did you eat these?” I asked. His tail wagged harder. I looked closer and noticed a dusting of crumbs lining his mouth.

  I lifted his lips and checked his teeth. There was definitely a red sprinkle wedged between them.

  I didn’t know much about dogs, but I was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to chow down on ten sugar cookies.

  “Aunt Erma,” I cried.

  Henry knelt down next to me and stroked the dog’s head. Aunt Erma ran into the room.

  “What do I do? What am I supposed to do? He ate all the cookies!” The dog tilted his head and looked at me with questioning eyes as though not sure what I was worried about.

  “He’ll probably be okay, but we could take him to the vet,” Henry offered.

  “I think he’ll be fine, but you can bring him to Dr. Silva just to be sure,” Aunt Erma said.

  “I’ll go with her,” Henry said. My heart was in my throat. This dog was in my care for less than forty-eight hours and I had already messed up. This didn’t set a good precedent. The dog looked completely fine, but I kept having images of him collapsing. I needed a doctor’s reassurance.

  “Let’s go.” I ran and grabbed one of Mitzy’s leashes. Mitzy sprang up when she saw it. “Sorry, not tonight, Mitz.” She humphed and flopped back down, her dagger eyes boring into the other dog. Clearly their relationship was off to a stellar start.

  Dr. Silva lived just around the corner from the pie shop, so we decided it would be fastest to walk. Henry called the doctor on our way to let him know we were coming. The dog seemed to be walking fine, but every now and then I could have sworn he twitched in a way that indicated discomfort or impending doom. Dr. Silva was a very patient man with thinning hair and a gentle demeanor. He answered the door in his pajamas. He examined the dog thoroughly, carefully looking in his mouth and ears. He asked some questions, many of which I didn’t know the answers to, including the very simple question, “What’s his name?” I was feeling useless and panicked.

  “He’s going to be fine,” he assured me.

  “Can you just double-check?”

  “I have double-checked.”

  “Can you triple-check?”

  “Would you like to leave him here overnight?”

  “No.” I put my arm around the dog protectively.

  “Okay, just keep an eye on him and call me if you have any concerns.” Dr. Silva pulled a business card from a nearby desk. I sensed a moment of hesitation before he handed it to me. I realized I’d become the crazy dog lady. I looked down at the dog, who looked back up at me with his big eyes, as though he still couldn’t figure out what all the fuss was about.

  Henry, the dog, and I walked slowly back to the pie shop. I was worried about forcing the dog to walk too fast in case it upset his stomach.

  “Do you think he looks a little woozy?” I asked, craning my neck to examine the dog’s face again.

  “I think he looks just fine,” Henry said. He wrapped his arm around me tightly and I leaned into his warmth. The snow had stopped and most of the clouds had cleared. The stars were twinkling brightly in the sky.

  “I wonder if he has a family out there somewhere,” I said. The dog looked back at me and wagged his tail.

  “I think you’re his family now,” Henry said. “Would you like me to stay over and help you keep an eye on him?”

  “What about Willy?”

  “I could bring him.”

  I had to laugh at that. Three people and three dogs, especially one as large as Willy, would have Aunt Erma’s apartment bursting at the seams.

  “Or you could bring him to my house,” Henry offered. I had to admit the idea was tempting, but I didn’t want to uproot the dog in his delicate state.

  “I should probably stay in tonight.” I couldn’t keep the hint of wistfulness from creeping into my voice.

  “Call me if you need anything,” Henry said. We were in the alley at the back door of the pie shop now.

  “I will,” I promised and leaned in to kiss him. His nose was cold against my cheek, but his lips were warm. I heard a strange noise and felt something warm sliding down my leg. I pulled back and looked down to see the dog had thrown up cookies all over my leg. The dog’s tail wagged hard and his ears perked up as though he was very proud of his accomplishment. I swallowed, trying not to gag.

  “I better go in and clean up,” I choked out. Henry looked amused, but was smart enough not to laugh in my presence.

  I ran upstairs, the dog close at my heels.

  “I’m going to shower,” I called to Aunt Erma as I flew past her and into the bathroom.

  Once I was clean and in my pajamas, I recounted the night’s experience to Aunt Erma. She did not have the same manners as Henry and burst out laughing when I got to the part about the dog throwing up on my leg.

  It was getting late so Aunt Erma disappeared into her room to read. Instead of joining her as she usually would, Mitzy stayed in the living room, gazing adoringly at her new friend. Apparently Mitzy had forgiven him for his earlier indiscretions of eating cookies without sharing and stealing her leash. The dark brown dog stared at me as I lay down on the sofa. I reached over and stroked his head, studying his face for any remaining ill effects.

  “What’s your name, buddy?” I asked. I decided to try Lena’s method and began to list names to see if the dog would react. Maybe if I could at least figure the sound out, I could guess his name.

  I began to sing the alphabet song. The dog lay down, but kept staring at me. His tail began to wag when I got to G but then I heard a rumbling noise and realized he was just passing gas. Mitzy stood and took a few steps back, but her loving gaze didn’t falter.

  “Fluffy?” I tried. He closed an eye. “Rover?” He closed the other. I went through Larry, Bob, Gigi, Puppy, Bubba – all without a reaction. I kept going, I began just naming objects in the room. “Phone, Table, Sofa, Rug.” All turned out not to be his name. I moved on to food. “Pizza, Pie, Raisin, Margarita, Lemon, Apple, Burrito.” No reaction. “Coffee. Cake. Doughnut.” At the last one, he opened his eyes. “Doughnut,” I tried again. He didn’t move, but he watched me.

  “It’s probably something that starts with a D,” Aunt Erma called from the other room.

  “Dooey, Darryl, Diego, Declan, Dakota, Daniel,” I tried. Mitzy had settled into a spot on the back of the sofa and was now snoring loudly.

  While I kept listing D names, I pulled one of Mitzy’s tennis balls out from under the sofa. “Do you want to play, Dexter?” I asked. I gently bounced the ball towards him. It hit him in the side, but he didn’t even move. Mitzy heard her second favorite toy being used and flew across the room to retrieve it.

  “You have to read your doggie handbook, because that’s what you’re supposed to do.” I pointed at Mitzy. He seemed unconcerned.

  I looked up D names on the internet and read through the list. By the time I was nearing the end, both dogs were sound asleep. When I said, “Duncan,” that all changed. The big dog was on his feet and hurtled towards me, his tail wagging furiously. He got three licks on my face before I was able to sit up and push him away.

  Aunt Erma came out of her room looking a little sleepy. “You figured it out?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’d like to introduce y
ou to Duncan,” I said. Duncan sat at her feet and proudly wagged his tail.

  “Hello, Duncan. Nice to officially meet you.” She shook his paw in her hand. “That’s strange,” Aunt Erma said, looking over at the phone table. She hadn’t yet fully transitioned to cell phones. She still had a rotary dial phone on a table next to an answering machine. The light was blinking on the machine. “I thought I checked this when I first came upstairs. I didn’t hear it ring, did you?” I shook my head. She hit the play button.

  I heard an unfamiliar voice say, “Erma, when are you coming back? We miss you.”Aunt Erma went pale and hit the stop button so quickly she almost knocked the machine off the table.

  “Who was that?” I asked.

  “No one,” she said, so quickly I’m surprised she even heard my question. Aunt Erma said goodnight and disappeared into her bedroom.

  That was strange.

  Chapter 14

  Dear Elodie,

  The other day I used my boyfriend’s phone to make a call because mine was dead. While I was on it, a text came in from a woman he works with. Curiosity got the best of me, and I clicked on the message. I saw that they’d been texting each other for months at all hours, day and night. There’s nothing particularly juicy in the messages, just a lot of friendly (and what could be interpreted as flirtatious) banter. This makes me very uncomfortable, but I don’t know what to do now.

  Do I confront my boyfriend? If I do, I have to admit that I was snooping through his phone. If I don’t confront him, I think it will eat away at our relationship. Please help me figure out how to fix this.

  Sincerely,

  Sorry I Snooped

  Dear Sorry I Snooped,

  You have to talk to your boyfriend about it. Don’t make it a confrontation, make it a conversation. You’ll have to admit that you snooped, and you can apologize for violating his privacy. But tell him that now that it’s out there, you need to talk about it. Most likely, he’ll deny that anything inappropriate is going on, and it’s up to you to decide if you believe him or not. It’s possible for people to have emotional affairs without having a physical one. You two have to talk about whether or not you’re getting what you want out of your relationship with each other. Problems in a relationship can be fixed as long as both parties in the relationship are open to fixing them.

  Ask and I’ll Answer,

  Elodie

  I stayed up all night watching Duncan sleep. Every time he twitched or snorted I sat up to examine him closer. I called Dr. Silva three times to see if certain movements or stomach gurgles might indicate something more serious was wrong with Duncan. By the third time, he asked me to lose his card.

  Aunt Erma emerged from her room fully dressed before the sun was up.

  “Who was that voicemail from last night?” I asked.

  She waved a dismissive hand. “No one. It’s not important.” She was out of the door of the apartment before I could ask any more questions.

  I took the dogs outside and fed them breakfast. A small breakfast for Duncan per Dr. Silva’s instructions, much to Duncan’s dismay. The dogs snuggled in on the couch while I got ready.

  “Keep an eye on him, Mitzy,” I said. “I’ll be back soon to check on you two.”

  We had a lot of special holiday orders people were picking up today. Three different people had ordered rum raisin pies. Why anyone would special order that was beyond me. Raisins made me want to gag, so I quickly offered to make the peanut butter silk. My mother made the rum raisin, and Aunt Erma worked on the berry pies. There were a couple of special orders for boysenberry pie and twenty-seven orders for her famous blueberry pie.

  The second we unlocked the door, we had customers. The usual midmorning lull never came. People came in to pick up their orders, eat a slice of pie with out-of-town family and friends, and apologetically place last-minute special orders.

  I didn’t have any time to worry about the strange voicemail from last night. I was serving customers out front while my mom and Aunt Erma kept baking and washing dishes in the back.

  Lena called to ask if we should meet at the pie shop or the hardware store.

  I was silent on the other end of the phone.

  “You forgot about our appointment, didn’t you?” she asked.

  “No,” I said slowly while wracking my brain.

  “I’m taking you apartment hunting,” she said.

  “Right!” Our conversation from a few days ago came back to me. “I’m not sure if it’s a good time though.” I told her about everything that was going on.

  “There’s never a perfect time. Only now,” she said. “I’ll have you back in no time.”

  I went into the kitchen. “Can you guys spare me for an hour?”

  My mother said, “No,” just as Aunt Erma said, “Yes.”

  “Great, I’ll hurry back,” I said. I ran upstairs to grab my coat and check on the dogs before rushing out the back door before the conversation could go any further.

  I was still feeling a little conflicted about staying in Hocus Hills. Sometimes I missed the bustle of the city, and then there was the wonderful job offer to consider. Then there was Josh. I hadn’t decided if he was in the pro column or the con column on the list of reasons to move back to the city.

  I decided that it couldn’t hurt to see what my apartment options were. I had been sleeping on Aunt Erma’s sofa for too long, and, now that I apparently had a dog, the apartment was getting a little crowded. Plus, I’d had one too many dates that included Aunt Erma and Mitzy. Henry had his own house, but his large dog, Willy, wasn’t sure that he liked me as much as Henry did. He would sit in the middle of the living room and watch me through narrowed eyes. That was a little unsettling when you were trying to make out on the sofa.

  And, of course, it was impossible to have any privacy at a restaurant in a town like Hocus Hills. Henry was well liked, and it was not uncommon for people to stop by our table to chat for five to fifty minutes. I liked the small-town charm, and the fact that people adored Henry, but it was awfully difficult to get into the romantic mood when Bill Carter stopped by to tell us a graphic twenty-minute story about his latest bout of food poisoning. I ended up telling the waitress, “Thanks, but I’m not hungry anymore,” when she brought out my bowl of vegetarian chili.

  There were a few customers in the store when I got there. Lena was helping a woman pick out a light switch and she came over to me when she was done.

  “It looks like you’re keeping busy,” I said.

  “All those little projects that pile up over the course of the year are suddenly getting done because the in-laws are coming to stay for a week, and they expect to have a working doorknob on the bathroom,” she said.

  “I don’t want to take you away from your store,” I said.

  “Don’t worry. Denny’s got it covered,” she said. Denny was the nineteen-year-old that Lena had hired for the holidays. He was quiet and a little sullen, but his lanky appearance and awkward manner reminded me a little too much of Stan. Because of the resemblance, I usually avoided the hardware store if I knew Denny was working. That was really a tragedy because I loved going to the hardware store.

  The second we stepped outside, Lena went into full real-estate-agent mode. “Don’t you just love this time of year?” she asked. “There are no bad views in this town when it’s all decorated for the holidays. And everywhere that I’m going to show you is conveniently located near the pie shop and near all the necessities, like the grocery store and the restaurants.”

  “Lena,” I said, laughing. “If you’re showing me any apartment in town, I’ll be conveniently located near all the necessities.”

  “Well …” she sniffed indignantly “… I think you’ll like the ones I picked out anyway.”

  “I’m sure I will,” I said. “You don’t have to sell me on Hocus Hills.”

  “I’ve heard rumors you’re still running a little hot and cold on our town,” she said. “There’s a lot of pressure for me to perfor
m. You should have heard the lecture Flora and Mr. Barnes gave me on the importance of finding you a place that you would love. Even Henry called and told me to pull out all the stops. When I was in the grocery store, Holly wouldn’t check me out unless I promised to show you the place over on Sparkle Street.” She said all this hardly taking a breath. “Apparently Sparkle Street is an acceptable distance from Holly so that you guys can hang out and still walk home from each other’s places after a few glasses of wine without getting lost.”

  “I see,” I said. No wonder Lena was laying it on thick. There was an awful lot of pressure associated with where I lived.

  “Erma will probably stop speaking to me once she hears I’ve taken you out apartment hunting. She doesn’t think you should move until after we stop the IMPs.” She threw up her arms. “I just can’t win sometimes.”

  “I’m sorry everyone’s been giving you such a hard time,” I said. I put my arms around her and gave her a big hug.

  “It’s all right. I can take it,” she said with a dramatic toss of her head. “Let’s not worry about any of them now, though.” She switched back to her realtor voice. “Let’s focus on you and what you want.”

  Lena was right. The first apartment did have wonderful views. It was on the second floor and looked down on the town square. The apartment itself had dingy gray walls and was about the size of a broom closet, but it did have a nice view. Lena kept pointing to the dusty window.

  “It’s nice,” I said, trying to force a smile. We were a little too close to Alice’s old cookie shop for my taste. Even though she was gone, her bad vibes still haunted me. I was hoping with enough yoga I could get past my dislike of this corner of the town square. But it wasn’t going to happen overnight, so we left that first apartment pretty quickly.

  “I thought it might be a little too close to that spot,” Lena said, watching me out of the corner of her eye.

  I just shrugged and smiled.

  We didn’t stay long at the second apartment either. It was a one-bedroom on the first floor. Phyllis, the current tenant, was there. She had lived in the apartment for the last thirty years, but now she was moving into the nursing home. Her light blue sweater matched her eyes, and she kept her white hair in a low bun. When she smiled, the number of wrinkles on her face doubled. She was there because she wanted to give me a heads up about a few “quirks”. Like apparently the hot water went out every couple of weeks. “There’s something really refreshing about taking a cold shower,” Phyllis said, to my look of disbelief. “And you’re just going to love Luther,” she said.