Let It Snow

by Nancy Thayer

  Oscar glared at her. “I do.”

  Christina couldn’t believe her ears. She wanted to argue, to curse, to burst into long wailing sobs. But she held on to her dignity. “So you’ve stayed for a full hour. You’ve won the bet.”

  “Damn right I have!” Oscar stomped to the door and stormed out into the snow.

  The shop was almost silent but the air shivered from the cold wind buffeting the walls. Christina forced herself to take a few calming breaths. It was only two o’clock. More customers would be coming. She would concentrate on them. She would smile and help them choose wonderful presents for their children.

  But first, while the store was empty, she had to make a few phone calls.

  She called Mimi, and then Jacob, and then Harriet. She told them that her dare hadn’t worked. Oscar had stayed the entire hour. She’d promised him that if he could, she would pay the rent increase. She knew she couldn’t do that, so after Christmas, she would close her shop for good.

  The Shedders were kind. They all, even Harriet, thanked her for trying. They couldn’t talk for long, because customers needed attention, and by the time Christina had told Harriet, her own store was filling with people.

  The rest of the day flew by. More customers surged through the door. They needed stocking stuffers! Bags of marbles, miniature sailboats, rope bracelets, and sticker books flew into the toy shop bags and out the door. While that group was trying to get out, another group was shoving their way in. A woman in a fur coat bought a dozen wooden rainbow sailboats to be put at the top of each place setting for her dinner that night. A grandfather bought the large, jeweled pirate book for his grandson. A gang of schoolgirls about twelve years old shuffled in giggling and whispering, searching for something.

  “Is there anything special you’re looking for?” Christina asked.

  This set off an especially explosive round of giggles.

  “No, thank you,” one of the girls said, and in a mass, like a giant amoeba, they squeezed back out into the cold.

  A heart-stoppingly handsome man strode in. The shoulders of his black wool coat were coated with snow. “I wonder if you could help me. I’m looking for, um, well, what’s your most expensive present?”

  “For what age group?”

  The man spotted a large box of Legos high on the top shelf. “I’ll take that.”

  Christina picked up her folding step stool.

  “Please don’t trouble yourself. I can reach it. I’ll take it down, if that’s okay,” the man said.

  “Of course,” Christina answered. “Thank you.”

  “This is a marvelous shop,” the man said.

  “Thank you,” Christina repeated. “I quite like it myself.” Her Inner Christina perked up: You quite like it? What, all of a sudden you’re British?

  As the man paid for the Legos and left, more customers entered the shop. Christina bagged small items, rang up the sales, reminded people how to use the chip on the credit card machine, replaced toys, and got so hot she took off her wool sweater and Christmas cap.

  It was after five when the rush died down. She kept the store open after six, putting the shelves back in order, hoping a few more parents and kids would rush in. But dark had fallen, and the wind had risen. She gathered her things, locked the shop, and trudged to her Jeep.

  Christina drove home, thinking the town had never looked more beautiful, all the buildings blanketed with snow, lights twinkling against the darkness like hope against despair. She held back her tears until the moment she walked into her house.

  Mittens was there, meowing for her dinner. Christina picked up her beautiful friend and held her, burying her cold nose in the warmth of the cat’s fur.

  “Oh, Mittens, I’ve had such an awful day!” she cried.

  Mittens wasn’t interested in her drama. She slid out of her arms and raced toward the kitchen. Christina followed. She opened a can of food, set it in a bowl for the cat, and freshened her water bowl. Then she stood in the middle of her kitchen, still wearing her coat and hat and gloves, and tried to decide whether she wanted a drink of coffee or red wine.

  She was too overwhelmed to decide. Why had she made such a stupid bet? She should have known that Oscar would have stayed in her shop for an hour if he’d had to cling to the shelves with his teeth. He was a tyrant. He didn’t need the pitiful ten percent raise in rent, the raise that would make it impossible for the Shedders to keep their shops.

  And how could she let the others down, and close her own business, and still keep any kind of loving relationship with Andy? She couldn’t. She didn’t even want to see Andy again, she never wanted to see any Bittlesman again, and that thought made her cry so hard she frightened the cat, whose fur stood on end as she raced from the room.

  Christina’s windows were full of darkness. She didn’t turn on the Christmas tree lights, as if she was stubbornly rebelling against this season that was supposed to be so full of joy and instead was full of misery. It was an utterly childish So there! but she was too sad for the hope of light.

  Why had she had to meet Andy? He was a man she could love, and now he was completely outside the range of possibilities. Sometimes it seemed like fate liked playing bitter jokes on people.

  Her cellphone buzzed, but she ignored it. She trudged upstairs and ran a hot bath full of bubbles and perfume. She let her clothes fall right on the floor. She sank into the hot water with a sigh of relief.

  Finally she was warm. She toweled off, pulled on her warmest fleece robe, and stepped into her fleece-lined leather slippers. She wasn’t hungry—she was simply limp. When she merely thought of Andy Bittlesman, her heart jumped for joy. But when she merely thought of Oscar Bittlesman, her heart sank.

  What now? It was too early to go to bed. Christina supposed she could go back down to the living room and watch something on television. She would bet— No more betting, ever! dictated her Inner Christina. She supposed that the mushy movie It’s a Wonderful Life would be playing on some channel. It would probably make her cry, but even Zoolander would make her cry tonight.

  She dragged her miserable self downstairs, settled on the sofa, and picked up the remote.

  Someone knocked on her front door. What now?

  She heard giggling. It was only a little after eight.

  Wearily, she trudged to the front door. She opened it to the surprising sight of the three other Shedders, Mimi, Jacob, and Harriet, all of them trying to squeeze into her house at once.

  “Christina!” Mimi cried. “Let us in! We’ve got an idea!”

  Christina couldn’t help but laugh and hold the door open wide. “Come in, you crazy people.”

  As the others stood in the hall divesting themselves of coats, hats, mufflers, and gloves, Christina hurried into the living room to turn on the Christmas tree lights. All at once, her room sparkled with magic.

  Mimi came into the room and dropped down on a chair. Jacob and Harriet sat on the sofa. Together.

  “Can I get you all something to drink?” Christina thought this was a perfectly reasonable question, but it set the other three off in gales of laughter.

  “No, no, darling,” Mimi said, “just sit down and listen to us.”

  Warily, Christina perched on the edge of an armchair. “Okay.”

  “So,” Jacob said, clearing his throat and sitting up very straight, “we three have been discussing how wrong we’ve been to let you carry the burden of dealing with the rent raise.”

  “Although it made sense since you’ve got an in with Andy Bittlesman,” Harriet added.

  “We decided we want to do our fair share,” Jacob continued. “We’ve spent hours trying to figure out what we can do to change his mind.”

  Mimi couldn’t keep quiet. “So we finally decided to go all Charles Dickens on him! We’ve called Elsa Fartherwaite, she’s the organizing power behind
the Nantucket Victorian Christmas Carolers—”

  “They sang on Main Street during the Christmas Stroll,” Jacob interjected.

  “—and we asked her if we could borrow their Victorian costumes—”

  “Because we’re going to sing Christmas carols to Oscar at his house!” Harriet announced.

  Christina studied the three faces before her, all so eager and hopeful and bright, like children waiting for the teacher to tell them they’ve given the right answer.

  “What’s more,” Mimi continued, “we’re going to give him presents from each of us.”

  “I’ll give him a Ralph Lauren tie in red and white stripes,” Harriet said.

  “I’ll give him a handsome brass-plated barometer,” Jacob said.

  “And I’ll give him a Christmas sweater!” Mimi concluded.

  “And you can give him the Great Point lighthouse model,” Harriet told Christina.

  Christina bit her lip. Were these adults sitting in her living room serious? Did they actually think a few songs badly sung—because she certainly didn’t have a strong voice and she doubted if the others did—and a few presents would sway Oscar the Great’s mind?

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Mimi said. “It’s not about the carols or the presents, although that should get him in the mood. It’s about community. About being part of the island. Here we are, four people who live here year-round, and he’s been pretty much isolated up there for three years—”

  “Except for Janice,” Christina reminded her.

  “Exactly!” Mimi agreed. “And Janice is our trump card. I know she wants Oscar to feel part of the community, so after she hears our carols and sees our gifts, she’ll soften him up.”

  Mimi, Jacob, and Harriet stared at Christina, breathlessly waiting for her response.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Christina admitted.

  “We’ve had a lot of ideas,” Harriet told her. “I suggested that we kidnap Oscar and tell him we won’t let him go unless he promises not to raise the rent.”

  “We decided against that,” Mimi said.

  “Really not in the Christmas spirit,” Jacob added, winking at Harriet.

  Christina’s IC choked. Jacob winked at Harriet?

  “The timing is good…” Christina said, thinking aloud. “He must feel triumphant after winning the bet today. On the other hand, he’s not the kind of guy to get softened up by a few carols.”

  “Well, Christina,” Harriet snapped, “why don’t you give us a better idea? I mean, your plan with Oscar in the store didn’t seem to change his mind. We’re a little desperate here. Can you think of anything better?”

  “No,” Christina admitted. “I’m just afraid this, um, wonderful idea of yours won’t work.”

  “We won’t know until we’ve tried!” Mimi chirped.

  “You’re right, of course, Mimi.” Christina had to smile at her friends’ optimism. “I’m in. Let’s do it.”

  “Hooray!” Mimi said.

  “Actually,” Jacob admitted, blushing as he spoke, “I have a decent baritone. I sang with my college glee club.”

  “I can sing,” Christina said, “but not always on key.”

  The others laughed.

  “Enthusiasm will be more important than technical accuracy,” Mimi said.

  “This is slightly…frightening,” Christina admitted.

  “I know,” Jacob agreed. “Isn’t that cool?”

  Christina almost retorted that she’d had her share of scares this Christmas, thank you very much, but she was thrilled that Jacob was excited about trying something new.

  “Very cool,” Christina agreed. “Now. How many carols shall we sing, and what are they? And when shall we do this?”

  “We should do this as soon as possible,” Harriet said.

  “We’ve discussed what carols we should sing,” Mimi told her. “We’ve even tested a few.”

  “We don’t want to be childish and silly, so ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ is out,” Jacob added.

  “We’re thinking something knock-out beautiful,” Mimi said. “Something so stirring Oscar’s cold heart will melt.”

  “That might be too much to hope for,” Christina cautioned them.

  “We’re thinking we’ll start with ‘In the Bleak Midwinter,’ ” Harriet said. “It’s from a poem by Christina Rossetti, with beautiful music by Harold Darke.”

  “Oh, Harriet,” Christina protested gently, “we don’t want to try that. We’d absolutely ruin it. Let’s think of something less ambitious. ‘Silent Night,’ maybe?”

  Harriet pulled herself up straight, insulted. “I used to sing in college.”

  Mimi said quietly, “Christina, just listen.”

  Christina tried not to roll her eyes. “Sure.”

  Oh, brother, her Inner Christina said. Plug your ears.

  Harriet folded her hands in her lap and began to sing.

  “In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,

  Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;

  Snow had fallen, snow on snow on snow

  In the bleak midwinter, long ago…”

  Christina’s jaw dropped. Harriet’s voice was sweet and pure and full, a perfect angelic soprano. She was precisely on tune, each word winging from her mouth flawlessly. Christina’s entire body broke out in goosebumps at the beauty of the sound.

  Jacob joined in on the second stanza, holding his voice back, harmonizing with Harriet but never overwhelming her with his powerful baritone. His eyes rested on Harriet as they sang, as if he was hypnotized. As if he was in love.

  Christina glanced at Mimi. Mimi was smiling smugly.

  They arrived at the final stanza, their voices as shining as stars.

  Tears spilled down Christina’s face. She applauded, shaking her head in wonder.

  “That was stunning. Harriet, I had no idea you could sing,” she said.

  “Oh, well, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Harriet retorted, smiling triumphantly.

  “What do you think now?” Mimi inquired with a contented smile.

  “I think we absolutely should do it!” Christina said. “Harriet’s voice would melt a heart of stone.”

  “So, Christina,” Harriet asked, “would you like to solo on a carol?”

  Her Inner Christina snorted: You must be kidding. “No, Harriet. I can scarcely sing on tune, and my voice is weak. Maybe we can sing a jolly song where the four of us can pitch in together, and you and Jacob can drown out me and Mimi.” Christina turned to Mimi. “I’m assuming you can’t sing like Harriet.”

  “I don’t think many people in the world can sing like Harriet,” Mimi replied.

  “You have an excellent voice, too, Jacob,” Christina told him.

  “It’s okay, but nothing like Harriet’s. Still,” Jacob said, smiling shyly at Harriet, “I think we make a harmonious pair.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Christina told him.

  “Now,” Mimi said, taking charge. “We’ve discussed what other carols to sing. We thought we’d start with ‘White Christmas’ as we approach Oscar’s house. It’s got three stanzas. We can sing them over again while we wait for the door to be opened and Oscar to see us. When he’s there, Harriet can immediately begin with ‘In the Bleak Midwinter.’ After that, we’ll change moods and sing ‘Walking in a Winter Wonderland.’ They’re all grown-up songs, ones he’s sure to know. People respond to music they know.”

  “Can’t we have one childish song for Wink?” Christina asked.

  “Good idea!” Mimi said.

  “How about ‘Away in a Manger’?” Jacob suggested.

  “Let’s have something fun,” Christina told him. “ ‘Frosty the Snowman’?”

  “I like that,” Harriet said.


  Immediately Jacob agreed. “Me, too.”

  Christina glanced at Mimi. The other woman gave her a devilish smile. “We can put ‘Frosty’ in before ‘Winter Wonderland.’ And that’s all. We should keep it short. People don’t like to stand there smiling at carolers forever.”

  “I agree,” Harriet said.

  “I agree, too,” said Jacob.

  “Should we practice now?” Christina asked.

  “Why not?” Jacob asked. He was clearly enjoying himself.

  “Maybe we could all have a tiny glass of wine to wet our whistles?” Mimi suggested.

  “Absolutely!” Christina rose and hurried into the kitchen.

  “I’ll help,” Mimi said, following.

  As they took glasses down from the cabinet and Christina popped open a bottle of prosecco, she whispered, “Looks like we’ve got a romance going on.”

  Mimi whispered back, “Christmas magic.”

  They carried the bubbling drinks back to the living room. For the next hour, they sang and revised and sang and always Harriet’s sweet pure soprano spiraled high, leading the way.

  When the three other carolers left, Christina went to bed.

  With her phone in her hand.

  She waited ten minutes, enough time for Mimi to get home, then tapped Mimi’s number.

  “Mimi,” Christina said as soon as her friend answered, “what’s going on with Harriet and Jacob?”

  “Isn’t it wonderful? Harriet brought us hot soup for lunch yesterday and Jacob asked Harriet out to dinner and I’d bet my bottom dollar they’re in love.”

  “Christmas magic,” Christina agreed.

  When they said goodbye, she snuggled down into her covers, feeling a bit like a Secret Santa.

  Christina woke up hungry. She sat up, threw off the covers…and yesterday evening’s events came flooding back into her mind. Today she felt much more optimistic about life in general. That’s what singing Christmas carols can do, she thought, and she was grateful for it.

  Downstairs, she started the coffee brewing and checked her cellphone while she waited. Louise had called twice. So had Jacob. And Mimi.