Tangled Lights and Silent Nights

by Kelly Stone Gamble

  Jerome pulled away from his mom’s grip and walked to Jo. She squatted down and her heart dissolved when he wrapped his arms around her neck and whispered, “If he comes back, tell God I said thank you.”

  Books by Debbie

  Warped Ambition

  Warped Passage (set for release in 2019)

  About Debbie

  Debbie TenBrink grew up on a farm in West Michigan where her family has lived for 175 years. She still lives within five miles of her childhood home with her husband, kids, and faithful dog, Mojo. She has a Master’s degree in career and technical education, and taught at two local colleges before settling into her career as a software specialist for a law firm in Grand Rapids.

  Her first novel, Warped Ambition, was released in 2016 by Red Adept Publishing. The sequel, Warped Passage, will be released in early 2019. Her short story, My Name is Diane, was the People’s Choice winner in the 2018 Write Michigan short story contest and is featured in the 2018 Write Michigan Anthology.

  When she isn’t writing, Debbie’s favorite times are spent painting, camping, hiking, and watching her kids play sports. Regardless of what else she is doing, the lives and trials of the characters that live in her head are never far from her mind.

  Get in Touch

  Website: http://debbietenbrink.wixsite.com/author

  FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/authordebbietenbrink/

  Instagram: DebbieTenBrink (@authordebbietenbrink)

  Literally Christmas

  by C. Streetlights

  Natalie looked up and groaned at the shining faces of expectant children and their impatient parents. Tugging at her red-and-white-striped tights, she closed her eyes and tried to hide the annoyance on her face.

  Mason, her shift partner, elbowed her in the ribs. “Elves are jolly, Natalie. You do not look jolly. You look constipated.”

  “I hate this job,” she said through gritted teeth. “I look like an idiot!” She gestured at the green velvet dress that fell just above her knees.

  Natalie would have looked idiotic if she were anywhere else. Her elfin shoes paired with the tights were ridiculous, and the bells on her wrists seemed cartoonish. Yet she looked stylish standing next to Santa Claus’s red-and-gold chair at the mall.

  “I’m right next to someone else who looks like an idiot—”

  “Excuse me?” Mason interrupted.

  She put her gloved hand on his shoulder. “I mean, you look great. For an elf.”

  Mason was the perfect elf with his dark-brown hair and a light dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks.

  Children eagerly weaved through the mall’s North Pole on their way to visit Santa’s Enchanted Forest, their eyes sparkling at the intricate decorations. Natalie tried to understand the reasoning behind the mall’s commitment to the Forest. After all, more adults bringing their children to see Santa meant more money spent in the stores, but that wasn’t always the case.

  “What’s the point of all this? Half these people don’t even stick around to shop. They come in, get free pictures of their kids with Santa, and hurry out of the mall,” Natalie complained.

  Mason smiled and waved at the children. “Natalie, have you ever thought they do it because they want it to be a special time of year for the community?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, and Santa can actually visit every home in one night.”

  “He really can!” a little boy said, clapping his hands.

  Natalie bit her tongue. As much as she hated Christmas and all its happy trappings, cynicism was not to be shared with the public, including the children.

  “You are absolutely right,” she said with her best elfish smile.

  Mason handed him a candy cane. “Don’t forget to keep an eye out for Santa on Christmas Eve.”

  Natalie dragged Mason behind Santa’s chair. “Why do you encourage these kids?”

  “What do you mean ‘encourage?’”

  “You fill their heads with nonsense. It’s cruel to support these lies.”

  Mason’s eyes grew flinty and his jaw hardened. “The world already has enough ‘truth,’ Natalie. Children aren’t allowed to be children. Adults complain when children’s movies aren’t entertaining enough for the parents. Saturday morning cartoons are gone. Kids barely get recess.”

  Natalie glanced around. There were children everywhere, and they seemed happy.

  “What does it matter if children get one holiday to believe in magic? It’s one holiday! Let them have it and get over yourself, Natalie.” Mason walked away to prepare for Santa’s return.

  Natalie crossed her arms and took a deep breath. Christmas was in a week, and she would never be an elf again. This was literally the worst job she had ever taken.

  Silver bells rang, intermingling with the excited murmurs from the children.

  “Ho! Ho! Ho!” Santa called out. “Happy Christmas, everybody!”

  “Welcome back, Santa,” Mason said cheerfully.

  “Thank you, Mason! We’re missing an elf. Where’s Natalie?”

  Natalie slipped into place. “I’m here, Santa. Sorry, I was just a little behind, thinking …”

  Santa peered at her over his spectacles. “I see. Anything you want to talk about?”

  His twinkling, kind eyes made her feel like he already knew what was troubling her.

  “No, thank you. Especially not when we have all these children to talk to!” Her false enthusiasm stuck in her throat, and she began to cough.

  Mason patted her back. “Are you okay?”

  Natalie cleared her throat. “It’s just a tickle. I’ll be fine.”

  Santa looked at her and wrinkled his brow, genuine concern reflecting in his blue eyes. She had no idea where management had found this guy, but he came each year and refused to be paid.

  Natalie turned to Mason. “Do you recognize anyone?”

  Mason nodded toward the front of the line. “We’ve got the Thompsons, Johnsons, and Reynolds over there. And it looks like the Millers brought the grandparents for their annual family picture.”

  Her eyes widened. “How do you remember all these people?”

  “I’ve been working with Santa for a while. Since high school?” He left it as a question, which was puzzling.

  Natalie laughed. “You both have memories like cameras, I swear.”

  Mason looked at her, brows raised and mouth agape.

  “What?”

  “You laughed. You look nice when you laugh.”

  “Someone has to be the heavy around here,” she teased. “Who’s going to be Santa’s bouncer if everyone’s nice all the time?”

  The line grew longer by the hour, but Santa only became more cheerful with each visitor. Natalie was losing her resolve to have more holiday spirit. Her cheeks hurt from smiling, and her throat was sore from fake-laughing.

  The holiday spirit can just take a seat, Natalie decided. Being a bitch was easier.

  “Natalie?” Mason carefully asked.

  “What do you want?” she snapped.

  “Can you get Santa more cookies? Only bring ones that aren’t broken and don’t eat any of them.” He closed his eyes and paused. “I mean, it’s no big deal if you do, but I don’t think you’d like them. Er … I’m sure you’d like them. They’re delicious! It’s better if you don’t because … because we only have enough for Santa,” he stammered.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t eat the damn cookies.”

  Natalie stepped into the little cabin behind Santa’s chair. Retrieving a plate, she grabbed the metal tin that was supposedly from Mrs. Claus. They received a new one filled with beautifully decorated sugar cookies each week. Icing delicately traced each one in lacy designs and edible glitter. She placed six of them on Santa’s plate.

  “Dammit!”<
br />
  Natalie held half of a snowflake cookie while the other half rested on the plate. Broken cookies weren’t allowed because they would ruin photographs. She quickly replaced it and was about to dump it into the trash when Mason’s warning filled her mind: Don’t eat any of them!

  Stupid Mason. She wouldn’t have thought about eating them if he’d kept his mouth shut, but now all she could think about was tasting it. Shoving it into her mouth, Natalie closed her eyes in appreciation. It was as delicious as it was beautiful. The buttery cookie melted in her mouth, the icing a perfect balance of sweetness.

  Hurriedly wiping her hands and mouth, she looked in the mirror to see if she’d grown another head from eating the forbidden cookie and took the plate to Santa. He winked at her as if he knew, but she knew that was impossible.

  Mason immediately approached her. “Did you eat a cookie?”

  Natalie laughed. “No, I didn’t eat a cookie! Why are you so protective of them?” She laughed again, but her laugh didn’t sound the same. Putting her hand over mouth, she looked around to see if anyone had noticed.

  “You ate a cookie. Dammit, Natalie, I tell you not to do one thing …” He took off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe it won’t be so bad if it was just one,” he mumbled.

  “You’re worrying for nothing, Mason.”

  For the rest of the day, Natalie noticed each child’s smile and giggle. She witnessed every parent who became teary-eyed when Santa interacted with their child and remembered their names. For the first time, Natalie didn’t feel annoyed or short-tempered.

  When it was closing time, they said farewell to Santa and security walked the elves to their cars.

  “Be careful with what you say, Natalie,” Mason warned.

  “Why?”

  “Because you ate a cookie. I know you did.”

  “What’s going to happen, Mason? Is a gang of elves going to come and bust my kneecaps?”

  He sighed. “Just … be careful. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Natalie laughed. “It’s not like I’m going to go around demanding the twelve gifts of Christmas or something. Goodnight.”

  Mason groaned. “Oh God … no …”

  Natalie stretched and enjoyed the warmth of her bed, the dream fading from memory. The dancing sugarplums that had occupied her sleeping thoughts waved goodbye and giggled as they disappeared. Never before had her dreams been so vivid.

  Working for Santa must be invading my dream space.

  Slowly opening her eyes, the scene before her came into focus. Six bundles of feathers were neatly piled on top of nests on her bed, their long, elegant necks twisted under their wings. Natalie gasped, waking the geese next to her. She crawled backward on her bed as one waddled up to her—revealing a nest full of eggs—and honked in her face, only to waddle back and plop down onto her eggs.

  Natalie slid from her bed and opened her bedroom door.

  Chaos filled her living room. Ladies were dancing between leaping men, drummers were drumming, pipers were piping, and girls were milking cows on her back patio.

  She shut the door and tip-toed past the geese. Grabbing her cell phone, she went into her bathroom and found swans swimming in the bathtub.

  “Mason! What the hell is going on?” she screeched when he answered. One of the swans honked in the background.

  “You have swans, don’t you?” he asked calmly.

  “You know I have swans, dummy!”

  “Have you found the French hens, the turtle dove, the—”

  “You did this to punish me for the cookie, didn’t you?” Natalie hollered.

  “No, no, no! I told you to be careful, and you said something about the twelve gifts of Christmas! This is your fault!”

  “You get over here right now and get rid of everything!” she demanded.

  “I’ll talk to Santa and see what I can do,” he replied and hung up.

  Fifteen minutes later, Mason walked into her bedroom.

  “What the hell are you wearing?”

  “What do you mean? I’m wearing my pajamas,” Natalie said.

  “You have elf pajamas now?”

  “Oh my— What am I wearing?” Natalie looked down at her long, white nightgown with candy-striped ribbons woven into the lace. The tiny bells sewn onto the bows and embroidered candy canes were far too elfish to deny.

  “Excuse me, Mistress,” one of the leaping lords interrupted. “Your pear tree has arrived. I’ve put it on the patio.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Natalie replied, then looked at Mason. “What am I saying?” she whispered.

  Mason observed the chaos surrounding them. “Wow, okay, this is worse than I thought. You not only ate a cookie but you also have Elf magic in you.”

  “Shut it, Mason.”

  He held up his hands. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just telling you what Santa said.”

  “You are literally telling me I’m an elf because I ate a cookie?” Natalie jabbed at his chest with each word. “That’s insane.”

  “No, I’m saying you already were an elf and the cookie just made you more magical.”

  “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, and I don’t appreciate—” She was interrupted by a crash in the living room. “Can we just take care of all of this,” Natalie gestured wildly around her, “first? Then we can talk about that other stuff.”

  Mason looked at the mess. “Definitely. All you have to do is say what you want to literally happen. But not too literally. It’s a balance. If you’re too literal, something like this happens.” He pointed to the swans.

  Natalie raised a brow. “Wait, so you’re telling me I got the twelve gifts of Christmas because I was too literal?”

  “Well, yeah. You took the holidays and their meaning so literally that it was impossible for you to enjoy them. To you, if you thought Santa couldn’t literally visit every home in one night, or if reindeers couldn’t literally fly, there literally was no magic,” Mason explained.

  Understanding began to dawn on Natalie. “So I had to literally say something for it to literally come true for me to see the holidays aren’t supposed to be like that?”

  Mason smiled. “Exactly.”

  “Okay, what do I need to do?”

  Mason took her hand and led her to the sleeping geese. Sitting next to her, he said, “I’m sure you know what to do.”

  “What? But I don’t!”

  He smiled at her. “You do.”

  Keeping her eyes closed, Natalie stretched and enjoyed the warmth of her bed. Mornings like these were her favorite, and luxuriating in the silence was something she treasured.

  Wait.

  Silence.

  She hopped out of bed and ran to the living room where she found no dancing ladies or leaping men. There were no geese on her bed either. Her bathtub was empty.

  Thank goodness.

  Slipping back into bed, she thought back on the dream she’d had. It was vibrant and real, and it felt as if it had lasted hours. She drifted back to sleep for a while longer until she had no choice but to get up for work.

  Natalie chatted with people in line for the Enchanted Forest and gave candy canes to the children. Her chest felt light, and she wasn’t cranky. When she and Mason tied ribbons onto candy canes, she tied the bows quickly and artistically.

  “You’re in a good mood,” Mason said as she made paper snowflakes.

  “I know. I don’t know why. Nothing has changed.”

  “You ate a cookie, that’s what changed.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Stop. What is it going to do, make me an elf?”

  He paled. “Why would you ask that? Of course it won’t.”

  Natalie laughed but stopped when her dream came back to her. “I’m being car
eful with what I say, just like you told me.”

  “Good, I’m relieved.”

  “Yeah,” she said slowly, “I’m trying not to be too literal.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for his reaction.

  His eyes grew wide, and he grabbed her elbow and pulled her behind Santa’s chair. “All right, what do you remember?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you remember from this morning?”

  “It wasn’t a dream! I had swans and geese and milking maids … Oh my God …” Natalie panicked as everything clicked together.

  “Calm down. It’s okay.” Mason hugged her, patting her back.

  “It’s not okay. I’m turning into an elf!” she sobbed.

  “Who’s turning into an elf?” Santa interrupted.

  “Oh God!” Natalie wailed.

  “I’ll take it from here, Mason,” Santa said. “Let’s go for a stroll, Natalie.”

  They walked in silence for several minutes. Finally, when Natalie’s hiccups faded, he asked, “Why do you dislike Christmas so much, Natalie?”

  “I … I just don’t see the point in the holiday. Everyone always acts so happy and cheerful, but that’s not the way they are all the time. Why have a holiday for something we should be like every day?” She glanced at him and could see he was honestly listening, so she continued.

  “I don’t think it’s right to let kids believe in something so magical and beautiful as Christmas when we know magic and beauty don’t truly exist. Why do we do that to them? It’s cruel,” she whispered.

  Santa looked concerned. “You don’t think children should be permitted to have hopes, wishes, or dreams? Just real experiences?”

  “How else are we to prepare them for real life?”

  He was silent for several more minutes until they found themselves outside, standing on a patio.

  “How old were you when you were adopted, Natalie?” Santa asked softly.

  Natalie’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

  His eyes twinkled. “Let’s just say I have a way of reading people.”