Looking for a Story

I step out of the portal, “Woah - it really is like time travel.” I look around at a version of my town that has long faded from memory. “Don’t forget ma’ma you only have an hour.” the man in a suit smiles at me. I look in the window of the chain coffee shop I still frequent. She is there, fidgeting nervously, she is in bright teal skinny jeans, with a cute white sweatshirt with a big pink heart on the front. Her long hair reaches well past the middle of her back. I remember the weight of that hair, and how hard it was to manage. For a brief moment, I see my reflection overtop of her, oh how different we are. “Has she been here long?” “She was 20 minutes early, but you knew she would be.” He smirks. “And yes, I was still five minutes late.” I straighten up and put my hand on the door. “Remember, nothing that happens here changes anything that happened after this visit.” he gives me a nod and I head in. As soon as I open she looks up and we lock eyes, I can already tell she is shocked I kept her waiting. I watch her look me over. She takes in my bright pink blazer, black t-shirt and wide-leg jeans. Her eyes stop at my hair, I watch them go wide, it’s short now, and he hates short hair. Her eyes flick to my left hand, no wedding ring, her face falls, and I take a seat. She timidly hands me a hot chocolate, some things never change. She looks at me and her face holds a million questions, and I can’t answer any of them, instead, I slide a few stories across the table, and she looks up at me, “We wrote these?” I nod, she flips from page to page, “Does mom like them?” I smile, “She’s our biggest fan.” I laugh, “Though our best friend might give her a run for her money.” Looking up from the pages I wrote to help her heal, “We get better?” her voice holds hope. I lean forward, I could tell her it’s gets worse before it gets better, or that things will get dark, or how we almost walk away from the light, but I don’t. “We do, and you’ll help others along the way.” She reads those few stories over and over as if she is trying to burn them into her brain, I only wish she could keep them with her when things get hard, it might have made things easier. Soon our hour comes to an end and I reach across the table and place my hand atop hers, “Hey, you’re enough.” She gives a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, “I know.” She whispers, and I know she doesn’t believe me, I wouldn’t have either. I lean in, “And you're not too much, you never have been and you never will be. You don’t need to take up less space to be loved.” She pulls her hand away and hides behind a sip of her drink. I get up first. “Thank you for meeting me.” I turn where the man in the suit waits to take me back through a portal to a life she hasn’t even started to dream of yet. But before I leave I hear the faint whisper, “Thank you for the reminder.”

Abigail grew up near a hedge maze. She and her family visited the maze almost every weekend, even when the maze turned into a regular park in the winter. Safe to Abigail knew this maze inside and out.  This had its advantages at the big festivals when she got overwhelmed and needed a moment of quiet she knew just the dead end to hide in. Her parent's only rule was to have your phone on you so we can find you in an emergency ,  which she happily obeyed. One day during the kick-off for the summer event Abigail disappears into her little hideout. She flops onto the grass and stares at the clouds rolling by. She can faintly hear the band playing. Then she hears footsteps. Great someone found this dead end.   She sighs and braces herself for questions. "Oh thank goodness! Another human!” That sounds like another kid. Abigail props herself up, "It seems you found my hideout." "This dead end is your hideout?" The girl looks around.  "Yep!" Abigail pops the P, "It's one of the harder dead ends to find so it's pretty quiet.” “And you know this because?" the grit plops down, defeated.  "My family’s a pass holder and the maze never changes.” She shrugs, “So after years I've got it memorized." Abigail smirks, “Names Abigail by the way."  "Tiffany" the girl smiles. "Can you help me out of hear?"  "Do you just want out or do you want to see the fountain at the center?" Abigail lays back down.  "Honestly? I don't know. I feel like I've been running around for hours." Tiffany lets out a sigh.  "Well come look at clouds with me and we can decide in a bit." Abigail lays back down. Then she quickly sends her parents a text, “If someone is looking for a Tiffany, she's got a blue streak. in her hair, she's with me, I'll get her out shortly.”  After it was clear that Tiffany had settled and Abigail shared her water the two girls stood up. "So fountain or just get out?" Abigail stretches.  "Do you mind, I'd love to see the fountain," Tiffany asks uncomfortably.  "Oh yeah, I even knew a shortcut from here. let's go!" Abigail takes Tiffany's hand and leads her through the hedge maze. Soon they come face to face with The Fountain. "How? You made it seem so easy." Tiffany runs her hand under the cool water. Abigail beams. "Like I said the maze never changes, Did you come in by yourself? Rather bold for your first time here.”  Tiffany shrugs, "I guess so. My parents didn't want to try the maze today so I thought I could handle it." "Hey, I've helped several adults get out of the maze. Don't feel bad." Abigail leads her out of the maze.  "Maybe you'll work here someday." Tiffany runs her hand along the plants in wonder at the maze around them. "That's what my mom says." Abigail chuckles. Once the girls get out of the maze they are met by their parents. "Girls!" Abigail's mother waves them over. "Guess what we just learned, Tiffany moved in across the alleyway behind the house. So you girls will be seeing a lot of each other! The girls share a smile.  Over the years, they became partially inseparable friends. Their bond was unbreakable. Abigail and Tiffany both knew the Maze inside and out and often hid in it. As predicted, they got jobs at the park. Tiffany works in the concession stand, and Abigail works at the ticket booth. Part of her job is to rescue lost people in the Maze, which she and Tiffany make jokes about all the time.  Abigail stops by the concession stands on her way for break, "Hey Tiff, ya ready to go?" Tiffany pops her head out "Yep! And it's Friday!'' she brings out an order of fries the girls slip into the maze. "Can you believe it's almost time for college?" Tiffany sits down in the grass and sets the fries between them.  "I know, I still can't believe we aren’t going together" Abigail lays back looking at the clouds.  "I know. It's kinda crazy." Tiffany mumbles, popping a fry into her mouth.  “Think will we still be friends in a year?" Abigail looks over at her. "Well duh! Why would you even ask." Tiffany laughs. “Ya, but we have friends who didn't last through high school. And my mom has like two friends from then." Abigail picks at the fries.  Tiffany lays down next to Abigail, pointing to the clouds, "And if you are the only one I keep from high school. I'd be okay with that.”  Abigail smiles, "I'd be more than okay with that." The girls spend the rest of their break pointing out shapes in clouds and sharing what the future could look like.

Elizabeth walks into her childhood home, it still smells like Mom's apple pie, even though it had been years since her mom had baked one. It’s almost like the smell had been baked into the wall. Here feels like home more than her studio apartment ever does.  Her mom knew how to make a space feel like a home; though Elizabeth isn't sure anywhere will feel like home now that mom is gone. The house is technically hers now. Mom left it to her, it’s a big space just for her, and her mind was wheeling with options. She had time to decide what to do with it, but she didn’t want to linger with her choice. Wandering through the familiar halls of her adolescence and childhood.  Taking a deep breath she opens the door to her Mom's studio. She could still recall all the art that had been created in this room.  "Oh my." Elizabeth gasps. Her mom still had the dress-up box in the corner of the room, she’d always assumed it got moved to the attic once she outgrew dress-up, "I wonder."  She opens the old art supply closet, yep there it is, the "secret" door that leads to the backyard. Mom's studio really had been the back porch that her dad had converted into an art space for his wife.  Growing up she used to believe that when she went through the "secret" door she ended up in a land of fairies and magic, her mom had even designed her a fairy costume to wear in her magical land. Opening the dress-up box, the dress is still neatly folded on top, she slowly lifts the dress out. Looking at it now makes her heart swell, when did she last wear the dress, there were so many little details she’d missed as a child.  She stares back at the door, it’s most likely overgrown and wouldn't open but she steps towards it anyway, longing for something that feels familiar. As if something is calling out to her, she turns the knob and slowly pushes the door open. To her surprise, there's little resistance. And the door opens with ease. The first thing she notices is that it’s raining. But it hadn’t been raining when she got here. There hadn’t even been rain in the forecast. Otherwise, she would have worn her rain boots. When she looks down, her feet are covered in rain shoes that look like they are made of leaves. As she stares at the space that is definitely not her mom’s backyard, she notices there is an umbrella by the door. It looks like it's made of twigs and leaves that are somehow held together by magic.  Opening the umbrella she steps out into the magical land, as she takes more steps memories flow over her. A warmth fills her, and then she hears whispers, “She's back.”  “Is that really her?” “Someone get the grand fairy!” The grand fairy – that feels familiar, she walks deeper into the forest that made her childhood. When suddenly fairies poke out from the trees and brush, using leaves as umbrellas. Near the end of the path, an old fairy appears. Elizabeth picks up her pace, her heart remembering the face of an old friend, she holds out her hand and the old fairy settles in her palm, “You came back.” The fairy’s voice is soft but worn.  “I can't believe this is still here,” Elizabeth says in amazement. “I would have thought all the imagination had worn off.”  “No, you held the imagination in your heart. You remembered us faintly, and so, we lived on. Your mother also painted us from memories of your stories.” The old fairy smiles and Elizabeth feels her composer slip. Her mom had given her a book of those paintings for the last birthday they celebrated together.  Tears burn at Elizabeth’s eyes and she can’t stop them from rolling down her cheeks, hot stinging tears, the little fairy flies up and wipes the tears with a flower petal. “There, there. We were so sorry to hear of your mother's passing.”  Elizabeth nods, “Thank you. It’s been so hard, and she left me the house and I don’t know what to do with it. It’s too much for just me, but how could I part with it?” Elizabeth falls to her knees losing the umbrella, and feeling the cold soak through her jeans, her hair quickly sticking to the sides of her face.  However, the rain doesn’t pelt at her long before several fairies lift the umbrella over her. And the old fairy sits on her shoulder, “Hush now daughter of the forest, you don’t have to make any choices right now. There will be time for that later, now is the time for grief and loss. The house isn’t going anywhere. Surely the Mainland won’t rush you to choose.”  “No, there is no real rush, I just… Mom would know what to do, she’d have wise words and I can’t even ask her what to do.” Elizabeth strikes her hands against her legs as more tears burst from her eyes.  The old fairy flies down and gives a little pull on her hand, “Come walk with us.” Elizabeth nods, takes back the umbrella and numbly walks through the forest. As they walk she feels lighter, the pain is still there, but it’s not as sharp.  “Will I ever feel like I can breathe again?” She whispers to the old fairy who still sits on her shoulder. “You will, I promise. After rain, the sun always shines.” And as if right on cue they enter a little clearing and the sun shines, warming Elizabeth's cold body.  “I wasn’t ready to do this without her.” She lowers the umbrella and lets the sun smile on her face.   “No one ever is, daughter of the forest. But you will find her lessons and love everywhere you look.” The old fairy pats her cheek.  “If I were to stay here, or rather at the house, would you still be here? You know if I wanted to come back and visit?” She can’t help but feel a bit silly asking such a question.  “When you need us we will be here. After all, this is your magical land.” The old fairy flies in front of her.  Elizabeth smiles a little before bidding them farewell and going back through the “secret” door. A few weeks later after sorting through her Mom’s stuff, she moves in.  Sitting down at her mom's old desk, she pulls out the book of paintings and starts writing The Adventures of the Girl and the Fairy Door.

Victor Williams sits down for dinner with his family and before his father can ask about his test two large men burst into his house, “Villain!” They grab him and pull him from his house. “No! My son!” He hears his mom's scream and his sister chases after them. “You can’t take my brother away!” His little sister grabs his ankle and tries to stop them. Victor breaks free from the men, and hugs his sister, “Lacy, you need to be brave without me okay?” She nods, “I'll find a way to see you, I promise.” He whispers before the gab at him again. “I’ll go willingly. There is no need to traumatize my sister.” As soon as he steps outside the world goes black. When he wakes up he’s on a charter bus with other seventeen year olds found to have super powers from the dark side no doubt. “Vic you’re here? You’re like the golden boy, how on earth are you here?” Carson, the kid who had bullied him since grade school sits across the aisle from him. “I…I don’t know.” He leans his head against the cold window but nothing looks familiar anymore. The cold window slows his racing thoughts. He is the son of the city's greatest hero, was he to be the city's greatest villain? Glancing around the bus, he’s suddenly very grateful for the secret identities. Thinking about his Dad brought up that comfortable feeling of rage, his dad isn’t a good person, he’s incredibly rude, selfish and loaded his supper hero status over his mom and family, but because his powers came from a light source he was a hero? It never sat right with Victor, even more so now, sure some of these kids were jerks, but did sending them away to a villain school really seem like the best thing to do? Parents always tell you it’s what in your heart that matters most – until you're seventeen? Soon they pull into what can only be described as a compound, Victor feels his heart sink, what is going to happen to them now? They are led through a maze of corridors until they arrive in the mess hall. Caption Racketeer stands in front of them, “Welcome Young Villains.” His voice echoes throughout the mess hall. “I know some of you are thinking, but I’m not that bad.” Then as if he locks eyes with Victor and it seems like he smirks, “Or even I’m a good person. But the city cares not! Your powers once developed will come out with a black glow and the people will fear you.” He walks down the table, “But you do have a choice, you can stay here and be trained into a villain, or you can go through the painful process of surrendering your power potential and return to your civilian life, your parents will be told you have been reformed.” The kids start to whisper amongst themselves. Victor's mind races, can he go back, would his father be more disappointed if he gave up his powers then if he was a villain. But to be a villain meant never seeing Lacy again. He feels like he’s being torn in two. And if the city can remove your powers, why wait till kids are 17, why not learn to track the gene down when they are younger and have no heroes and villains like other cities. Suddenly it dawns on him, money. The city makes huge money on tourism. “You have 48 hours to decide, until then you will be kept here in this part of the compound, we have to keep the identities of the villains safe.” With a snap of his hand Caption Racketeer makes everyone's favourite treat appear in front of them. Victor has no desire to eat cookies that were not made by his mom. A cold hand sets in on his shoulder, Caption Racketeer stands over him, “Come with me boy.” Victor gulps and follows, “Yes, Sir.” Once in a side room Caption Racketeer lets his mask fall, “Cousin James?” “Hey Vicky Boy! Long time no see eh! So you didn’t inherit Uncle Bill's hero traits, bet he’s disappointed.” That stung more than it should have. “Guess not. Why are you showing me who you are? What about the whole identity thing?” He shifts uncomfortably. “That’s just a thing we say, besides, you already know one of the greatest heroes in the city, clearly you can keep a secret. You're gonna stay here right? No way you can go home, Uncle Bill would kill you.” How can James say that and not see the irony? “I’m gonna think about it.” He shrugs. “Honestly, with how much of a good kid you are, I’m shocked you're here. Maybe I should recommend a retest, maybe it was a bad day.” James mutters. “Why would a bad day change that?” Victor tilts his head. “Don’t worry about it, just stay here with me. You can be my sidekick, we can be a dynamic duo!” James dawns his costume, “Think about it, alright?” Victor nods and returns to his seat numb. The 48 hours fly by, unable to think about going home, a failure he chooses to stay, maybe he can be a secret good guy or something. Once training starts Victor learns his powers are the counterpart to his fathers, his father’s powers move like electericty, his move like waves. He also notices to use his powers he is told to think of the person who angers him the most, the angrier he gets the darker his powers get. The more he focuses on the darkness the harder his heart becomes, his hands start to cool too, this causes him to wonder… “Hey Caption James.” He calls after his cousin once the session lets out, “Can you get a private practice slot? I wanna test out a few things.” “But don’t wanna be embarrassed, I got you cuz.” He flips through the book, “Feel like getting up early? There is an open slot at dawn.” “Yea I’ll take it.” It might hide what he’s up to. “Perfect, I’ll make ya down. The key for the field will just appear on your way.” He turns to leave, “Hey, it’s name day next week, you think of one yet?” “I have some ideas, yea.” Victor shugs, “We’ll see how the next few practices go.” The next morning, alone on the practice field, he stands in the center and rather than thinking about his dad and the rage that had become so comfortable, he thinks of Lacy, her smile, her laughter, the way she always called him her hero. He feels his hand start to warm and the power that flows from his hands is the warm glow of a hero. He freezes. He lets his mind wander back to the feeling of failure, of rage and the power changes back to the black oil like flow. It all made sense, his father may be horribly unkind, but he oozes confidence… “We aren’t villains – the powers reflect how you feel!” and if his father knew that then he set his son to become a villain. And even if his father didn’t know the city had to have figured it out by now, and still they turned kids into villains! For what? Tourism profits! As his rage boils over from his hands flows streams of gold and black, he screams till his throat is raw, and collopes to the turf of the practice field. “I will be the difference I want to see, and the city won’t know what to do with me.” A week later when it comes time to pick a name and a costume he stands before the small crowd of villains, “I will be the Transgressor!” He clapped his hand and his costume, a mix of black and gold with an unbalanced scale across his chest. The other villain cheered, as the applause rolled over him he muttered, “And I will balance the scales.”

Tommy nervously walks into his new school's cafeteria. It should be illegal to make kids move in the middle of the school year. He stands just inside the door, unsure where to sit. The secretary had offered that he could have lunch with her if wanted, but that seemed so lame. “Hi, Tommy!” a girl with pigtails suddenly stands beside him, her name’s Lilly if he remembers right. “Hi, Lilly right?” He shuffles in his spot.  “Wanna sit with me today? I was the new kid a few months ago and it was brutal, so I thought I could sit with you till you find your crew.” She shrugs.  “That would be cool. I used to go home for lunch in my old town, but it was too far away and Mom didn’t want to drive across town four times a day.” He follows her through the cafeteria. “Ah there’s a lot of kids who have that problem, there are only like five kids in our class who go home for lunch so it shouldn’t take you too long to find your group.” She sits in a quiet spot in the cafeteria where they can see the whole room.  “So where's your group?” He asks pulling his lunchbox out of his bag.  “Oh my gosh, you have an old-school metal lunchbox! That’s so vintage and so cool!”  Lilly’s eyes widen.  “Oh yeah, it was my uncle’s.” He shows it off.  “I love vintage stuff, my grandma runs a little shop and I help her some weekends.” She beams.  “Sounds like somewhere my mom should go, she loves that stuff.” He eats his sandwich.  “I’ll bring you grandma’s card.” Lilly smiles and goes to bite in her sandwich. “Oh! You asked who my group is, I don’t have one.” She shrugs, “I’m one of the smartest kids in class, so everyone likes me, but I don’t really have a group to hang out with.”  “I was the smartest kids in my old class. So maybe I’ll give you a run for your money.” He smirks.  “I could use the challenge and a better partner.” She huffs. “I hate when kids only wanna work with you because you're smart but don’t wanna do anything.”  “Oh! That’s the worst! I had that problem all the time.” The two kids chuckle and eat in silence, the sound of the cafeteria becoming a dull hum.  Tommy and Lilly become inseparable friends, they take turns being the top of the class and when elementary school gives way to middle school, the teasing starts, but no matter how many kids make fun of them for being in love they stay friends.  “Did you hear everyone today making a big deal about the dance?” Lilly scoffs. “Yeah, I don’t get it either.” Tommy pauses, does she want to go? Maybe I should ask. “Do you want to go? I know the girls seem to be making a huge deal about it.”  Lilly sets her lunch down, “Honestly? No, I don’t like loud noises, and dances have loud music.”  “Right, you don’t even like movie theatres.” He nods.  As the dance gets closer, thanks to the internet kids make big shows about asking each other to the dance. Tommy can’t figure out why but it bothers Lilly, so with his mom's help, he makes a plan. He slides his lunchbox across the table.  “You're giving me your lunch?” Lilly raises her eyebrow.  “No, just open it.” Tommy smiles.  Lilly opens the box and finds a daffodil, Lilly actually hated lilies, and a note, Movie Night at My Place this Friday? “Oh, Tommy! Thank you, I’d love to!”  “I’ll even let you pick the movie.” He smiles, “I figured if we both weren’t going to the dance we could still do something fun.” He then steals his lunch box back, “But you still can’t have my lunch box.  And tradition is born, Tommy and Lilly didn’t go to dances but instead, they took turns hosting movie nights. From middle school to high school, the two stayed close, even though they did find groups of their own, as high school didn’t give them many classes together.  It wasn’t uncommon for their new friends to assume they were dating or wanted to date. Tommy and Lilly never could give a straight answer as to what was happening between them, they just didn’t talk about it, until Sr. Prom came around.  “Tommy, did you see the Prom Queen and King voting list?” Lilly stares at her phone. “No, we aren’t going, so I wasn’t gonna bother looking.” He sets down the lunch tray his mom sent up.  “Look!” She hands him her phone. “How!?”  He quickly reads through the list, “We made the cut?” He burst out laughing. “Well jokes on them.” Tommy glances over at Lilly's rather distraught face. “Hold up.” He reaches into his book bag and pulls out his lunchbox.  “I didn’t know you still used that thing,” Lilly says, still not understanding what's going on.  “I don’t, but I was gonna sneak this into your locker.” He rubs the back of his neck.  Lilly opens the box and reads, “Lilly, I know we don’t do dances, but if you wanted to prom and wasn’t going to say anything, will you go to prom with me? PS: Yes, I want my lunchbox back.” She looks at him, “You want to go to prom with me?”  “Duh, you’re my best girl, I’d spend a day at the mall with you if you really wanted to.” He pauses, “And if you don’t want to go to prom because of the loud noises, Mom says she and I can turn the backyard into our own dance floor.” “You won’t even go to the mall with your mom…” She looks back at the lunchbox and lifts the Lego daffodil out of the box, “Best girl? My old movie taste is affecting you.”  “I mean it, Lilly. If we go to prom I want it to be with you on my arm as my honest-to-goodness date. Not my friend, but my girlfriend. So what do you say?” He holds out his hand.  She blushes, “I am willing to try prom with your house as a backup if the noise is too much” She takes his hand, “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”  “You mean it!?” Tommy picks her up and spins her around.  “Yes, I mean it!” She laughs and hugs him tight.  *** They didn’t last an hour at prom before they made their way to his backyard where they finished their dance.  The metal lunchbox wasn’t used again for a few years after a relationship stood the test of distance, college, finals, and levels of stress but when Tommy did dig it out again, he intended to let her keep it, if she said yes to the rig she found inside.

During the confusing days between Christmas and New Year's, a knock interrupts Ivy, who is binge-watching the Christmas movies she hasn’t had time for thanks to work. Uncuring from the warmth of the pile of blankets she has herself under, she slowly makes her way to the door. “Chris! What a lovely surprise! Come in out of the cold!” She feels her face warm. She and Chirs haven’t seen each other since before Christmas. “Hey Lady Noel,” he glances around her space. It looks like I’m interrupting some pretty serious RR.” He smirks. “Hey, the office is closed for such a small window this time of year, so I have to make the most of it.” She grins and invites him to join her at the table. “Did you want some hot chocolate, or were you just popping by?” “If you don’t mind the intrusion, hot chocolate sounds lovely.” He hangs his coat on the back of the chair. “I don’t mind, I feel like the movies are rotting my brain. And! I’d love to hear how your Christmas went.” She busies herself with the kettle and finding mugs. “Oh, it was just like every other Christmas. Mom and Dad got me a few gifts and we spent most of the day helping the little opening presents. Becca loved the journal, by the way, thank you for that. How did your gifts go over?” “Really well! Everyone loved them!” She beamed as she set two mugs on the table. “You know hot chocolate seems to be becoming our thing.” “So it is.” He takes a long sip and then wraps his hand around his mug. “So can I ask why you stopped by? I didn’t think we were at a social call level.” Ivy teases. “Well I hadn’t seen you since the carol festival, and I wanted to ask you something, and a phone call or text just seemed lame.” He tilts his mug back and forth. “Well, you have my attention.” Ivy leans in. “So I know it’s still December.” Ivy nods, her face warming, “But I was wondering if you had plans for New Year's? I found out that the Museum is doing a New Year's Around the World party, and I asked the guy to hold two tickets for me. Because I know I would rather ring in the new year getting to know you and trying out different traditions than sitting at home with my family.” “You're asking me on an actual date? Not just some fill-in for a family event?” Ivy feels the blush and takes a sip of her drink trying to have her face, she likes Chris, but… “If you want to be technical the date can start at 12:01 January first.” He flashes her that charming smile. “That would keep me within my rules.” It’s her turn to tilt her mug back and forth. “I sense there is a but at the end of that sentence.” He leans in. “It’s just… I don’t do casual relationships.” She makes a point of looking him in the eye, “I know we’ve spent this month going to events together, but I didn’t view those as dates, I viewed it as helping out a new friend.” “What if I wasn’t asking for something casual?” Chris overs his hand across the table. Ivy stares at it for a beat, “But you're here on temp work.” She sets the mug down leaves the table and walks over to the calendar, making space between them. Chris doesn’t move at first, “And the guys I work for always offer me a permanent job once the temp contract is done, I could stay.” He pushes his chair away from the table. “I can’t be the reason you stay here.” She turns away. She hears him get up, “And what if you were? It’s not like I’m giving up a dream job or perfect life to move to some backwater town for you, and even if I was, would that really be so bad?” She can tell he's close behind her now, “And, I grew up here, my family is here, my adorable niece is here, if anything you're just a fantastically wonderful bonus about finally coming home.” He places a hand on her shoulder, silently asking her to turn around. She faces him, “And if it doesn't work out? I won’t be the reason you run out of town in the middle of the night, nor will I give up everything to get away from you.” “I think we are getting ahead of ourselves here, I’m asking for a date, no plans need to be made right now, I want to keep getting to know you better and we have till February to worry about me staying.” He lets his hand fall from her shoulder, taking her hand in his. “I’m just asking for a chance, that's all.” Ivy bites her lip, thinking about the fun not dating dates they’ve had throughout December, would it all change when the magic of Christmas wore off? Would he get tired of her and leave like everyone else? Was it worth the risk? “Alright, Chirs Kringle you got yourself a date.” His face lights up, “You mean it? I promise we’ll have a great time and if you decide you hate the party, we can come back here and watch all the cheesy movies you want!” “Don’t make promises you can’t keep now.” She laughs. “I don’t break promises.” He says with a tone more serious than the moment required. “So I’m learning.” She gives him a soft smile. He drops her hand, “I’ll let you get back to your RR, and I’ll see you on New Year's, I’ll pick you up at 5:30 and we can get dinner before the event?” She picks up his coat. “I’ll be ready with bells on.” She winks. “Now that, I’d love to see.” He laughs as she walks him to the door. “Thanks for taking a chance.” “Don’t thank me yet. You might regret it.” She laughs nervously. “Somehow I doubt I’d regret an evening with a beautiful girl like you.” He winks and walks out the door. Ivy waits till she hears his car drive off before she bursts into giggles and skips back to her pile of blankets, before she turns her movie back on she pauses for a moment to embrace the love story she might just be starting.

Avery hands her mom her Christmas list, at eleven, she didn't put any toys on the list. She was too old for that. Her mom reads it over, “A cable knit sweater, earrings, charm bracelet, earbuds, and a new water bottle. All very grown-up things, honey.”  "Yeah, well my friends and I made our lists together." Avery shrugs. “Are you sure you don't want to add something to do on Christmas day? Your brother and sister will both get toys on Christmas and you may want to ask for something to do, a puzzle, a craft, or even a toy.” Her mom hints handing her back her list.  Avery holds her hand up, refusing to take the list back, “My friends didn't put those things on their lists, Mom."  Her mom gives her a gentle smile, “I know dear, but your friends aren't here are they?" Avery hesitates, “No, I'm happy with the list.” She nods, convincing herself as much as her mom. "Well, alright then dear. If that's what you want.” Her mom shrugs and sticks the list on the fridge.  The next Saturday, Avery was hiding in her room, headphones in, music blasting. Why did school have to get so close to Christmas! She is so tired! Her mom knocks on her door, and pokes her head in, "Honey? Since you are so grown, wanna help me create Christmas magic?”  Avery feels a rush of excitement, but tries to play it off, “Ya, sure that's cool or whatever." She jumps off her bed and follows her mom to the car.  "I need your help deciphering your siblings' Christmas lists.” Her mom chuckles and hands Avery the lists in poorly written crayon. "Insisted of writing them themselves this year. So anything you know would be great.”  As they find a parking spot at the shopping center, Avery solves about 80 percent of the list. Which is as good a start as any. As they wander through the toy aisle, Avery pauses, "What ya looking at Honey?” Her mom calls from a few feet ahead.  "Oh just the Barbies, Ella and I always get Barbies on Christmas and we play with them while Tommy and Dad play with whatever toy he got.” She picks up the Barbie she knows Ella really wants, "I guess I should tell her I didn't ask for one” she kicks at the ground.  “That is the downside of growing up, I suppose." Her mom steps back, “If I was going to ask for a Barbie for Christmas, I’d pick that one" She points to a Barbie in a bright pink blazer. " How about you?”  “Mom, I'm too old for Barbies.” She rolls her eyes.  “Maybe you are, but I still think they are fun, so come on, which would you choose?" Her mom places a hand on her shoulder. "Fine, the Minnie Mouse fan one, cuz she'd fit in with the rest of my Minnie Collection, and Ella wouldn't take it.” She shrugs, “We should keep moving. We've still got a lot to find."  As Christmas gets closer, Avery begins to wonder if she made a mistake, not asking for something to do on Christmas. But she wouldn't let her mom know she was right. And she did promise Ella as part of her Christmas gift she would play Barbies on Christmas. It was like a tradition or whatever. So she won't be bored. However, she did end up back at the store with her dad. She wanted to get mom a Christmas gift that wasn't from the three of them kids. After all, she is getting older. "So kiddo, what did you want to get your mom?”  She looks at the floor, “It’s kinda stupid." She mumbles, the closer they got to the section of the store the more she thought her mom would hate it.  “Hey, don't talk about your ideas that way. I'm sure she'll love it.” Her dad encourages as he follows her through the store. Avery stops in front of the display, her dad smiles, “I see, you're sure?" Avery nods, “I think it's perfect."  Christmas morning is bright and clear and the family's a mountain of wrapping paper and each gift is open. Avery hands her mom the gift she bought, “Oh honey you didn't need to get me anything extra."  She shrugs, “Dad isn't the only one who can make Christmas Magic for you." Her mom tears away the paper, “Oh! This is so fun! Ella, look what your sister got me!”  “You got mom a Barbie!? Now Mom can play with us too!” Ella grabs the box from her mom and looks on and on about the fun pink jacket she is wearing.  Soon the wrapping paper mountain is in trash bags and toys are ready to be played with. Avery sits on the couch as she watches her brother and father zip around the living room with his new remote-controlled car. While her sister and mom unpack their new Barbies. Maybe the regret is settling in.  Before she finds an excuse to go to her room to hide for even a few minutes, her mom hands her one more wrapped gift. "But I opened all of mine already."  Her mom winks, “Maybe this one got lost." Avery slowly opens it, and her smile gives her away, the Minnie Mouse Fan Barbie, it's even cooler than it was in the store. "Thanks, Mom. Maybe, I'm not too old for toys just yet.” Avery slips onto the floor and joins her mom and sister in playing with their new Barbies.

Brooke is someone who loves Christmas. She adores it, her house is full of decorations. Christmas music is always on her playlist, and as soon as it is socially acceptable, she blasts it for all to hear. She loves all the parties, the get-togethers, events, and fundraisers. She saved money for Christmas all year to make Christmas as magical as possible. However, this year something is different – she is tired and burnt out.  She glances once more at the calendar, she is officially closer to Christmas than she is to the beginning of the month. And somehow she hadn't had a night at home since December first. Between working the occasional late shift and Christmas events, she hadn't had a quiet night at home, yet this year. And it just felt wrong.  That's when it dawns on her, this was the only night she had nothing going on. “How did I do that?” She asks the empty room. “Is that why I am so spent?” Her phone dings, it’s her mom – reminding her, there was an event at the church tonight, some sort of ladies' tea fundraiser thing she hadn't RSVP to because she genuinely couldn't remember if she had something going on this night or not. She could get ready and go, she could pick up an ornament on the way…But the idea of staying home curled up under a blanket with a warm cup of hot chocolate and a Christmas movie feels too irresistible. She types out her reply, “Hey Mom, uh, I forgot to RSVP for that. I know I could just show up but  I'm honestly feeling pretty spent, so I think I'm just going to stay home tonight.” She takes a breath and sends the message.  Won't everybody be so disappointed in her? Won't they think less of her if she didn't show up?  She always went to the ladies' teas. She shakes her head and starts her kettle. She then decides to make some popcorn. Sure popcorn wasn't the best supper option, but for a movie night, it was perfect. She could add some cheese and apples alongside to make it a little healthier. Brooke listens as the butter and oil melt, adding the popcorn slowly it starts popping and the kettle starts to whistle. She adds some milk to the bottom of her cup and mixes in the hot chocolate powder, the sound of the water pouring into her mug makes her feel all cozy inside. Soon the popcorn is done and her cup of hot chocolate is warm and toasty in her hands. Using her foot to click on her heated blanket, she carefully sits down on the couch. The blanket starts to warm, and she begins to scroll through the thousands of Christmas movie options. Did she want to watch something new or something old? While she scrolls through the listings on the TV, her mind once again, begins to wander. Such a shame you're going to stay home   instead of going to that party with all your church friends . You could make time for little Tommy's Christmas play, but can’t make it to a church event? Brooke tries to stop the spiral, but it’s so loud. Why have you burned all your energy on silly Christmas events, like work parties and friends events so that you can't go to this one event? You waste time shopping… “Stop it!” She shouts slamming her mug on the side table, “It's not a problem that I take a night off. There are hundreds of Christmas events in the city alone every year. And I cannot possibly go to them all. I love Christmas, and I'm sitting here burnt out because I have not given myself a night off this entire season. I'm not a failure for wanting to take a night off!” She covers her ears as if that will stop her mind from racing with guilt. Your mom could make time for it, and wasn’t she just as busy? Weren’t all the ladies at the event just as busy as her? Why was she so important she could take a night off? After all, wasn’t the reason for the season to be busy?  She freezes, and the spiral stops.   Her frustrations pour over, “No. No, it's not, nothing about this season is supposed to be about this ridiculous over-the-top busyness! A young woman had been going about her business when an angel showed up and told her she was going to have a baby who would save the world. The man who was supposed to marry her had been sleeping when the angel interrupted his dreams to tell him to marry the girl and help her raise the Messiah. People were too busy the night that Jesus showed up to notice. Nobody knew the Savior had come that night. Except for some Shepherds in their fields, who were sitting out in the calm and the quiet of the night when angels interrupted their normal routine.  There is nothing in the Christmas story that demands, this particular busyness. If anything, it demand us to take a break and slow down because if we all spend our days being busy we might just miss it!”  She pauses – we might just miss it, other than at church listening to advent readings and a sermon series leading to Christmas. Had she actually thought about the reason for the season? She reached over for a church bag which sits on the other end of the couch. She can spend a few minutes reading through the different accounts of the Christmas story. Just as she was about to open her bible, her phone dings, another text from her mom. “Good call, sweetheart. Taking a break is important this time of year and you've been so busy. I'm glad you're taking a night off.” She responds, “Me too Mom, me too.”  Silencing her phone, she opens her Bible and begins to read about the reason she celebrates. The reason this season was her favourite in the first place.

Ivy has one simple rule. No dates until after Christmas. She had long since decided that being single at Christmas was a fate worse than being single on Valentine's Day. Every Christmas function she went to, somebody had a nephew, a cousin or a brother she just had to meet as if she had time for first dates in December. Who has time to date in December? She has nieces and nephews to spoil, not to mention gifts for the rest of her family. She also has at least one event a week leading up to Christmas. How could anyone think a new relationship in December was a good idea? So why had she been so foolish as to give her plus one invite to work’s Ugly Christmas Sweater Party to her closest friend at the office? Maybe she blindly thought her friend who had only been married for two years had remembered the struggle of being single at Christmas time. Leaning against the wall nursing a cup of warm punch, proves Ivy had never been more wrong. “There you are, Ivy!” Becca rushes over to her, dragging who Ivy assumes is her brother over. “This is my brother Chris! He's in town doing temp work until February and I think the two of you will totally hit it off! So Chris you're going to take care of my best friend tonight because all these games are partnered up and you're technically speaking, her date!” Before Ivy can agree or argue, Becca walks back to Harvey who shrugs and mouths an apology.  Ivy stands there dumbfounded, she’s been tricked and she knows it. “Hi, I'm Ivy.” She smiles. “Please tell me that Becky didn't lead you to believe that I was in on this whole thing. And that I think this is a first date.”  Chris laughs. “Ah, so you weren't here last year?”  “No, I started in March. This is my first Christmas party.” Ivy sips her punch. “Ah, yeah see, Beck does this every year, she gets a single girl to agree to let me be their date and attempts to get me to fall in love and stay in the city. Instead of doing temp work and leaving at the end of February.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his punch. “She does this every year and you keep coming? Ivy raises her eyebrow.  “Food’s fantastic, music's good. And hey, I usually get to meet a pretty girl in the process.” He winks, and Ivy will not blush for a man she met less than ten minutes ago! “But seriously, who has time to date in December?” “Thank you!” Ivy huffs. “They just don't get it. They want us to be happy and in love.” Chris laughs, “Yeah, but hey, we can at least humour them, right?” Ivy gives him a look, “Come on, you gotta admit, it would be fun to make her think she is so smart and was right about us.”  “I mean, maybe a little bit.” She fidgets with her cup. “Alright! To having the time of our lives!” Chris offers her cheers. “And at the night's end, I will walk you to your car. And if I've impressed you with my competitive edge and Christmas knowledge, we'll do some Christmas shopping later in the week, and if we can get through our shopping lists in a reasonable time frame, we’ll get hot cocoa!” He leads her over to where the party games are happening.  “Oh, already coming up with a first date idea?” Ivy smirks.  Chris holds his hands up in surrender, “No, no. It's practical Christmas shopping with the girl my sister is going to try and set me up with so I might as well get ahead of it.” He winks. “After all, you can't tell me you're already done.” Ivy had to admit, this guy is smooth and definitely Becca's brother. The two of them were cut from the same cloth. “Well, no.”  “So we might as well do it together? It gets everyone off our backs and you have a free date to use for all of December's events.” he gives a mock bow. Ivy giggles, “Do you do this every year? You seem be having a lot of fun.”  “Not every year, but with Becs having my niece, she is determined to get me to stay after my temp contract is done, so if I keep hanging out with you.” He says in a teasing tone.  “You won’t have to go on any other dates?” Ivy offers.  “Yep, it’s purely selfish.” he jokes, as they find a spot in the growing circle. “Alright, if we do well at these games, I’ll take part in your plan.” Ivy challenges.  To Ivy’s surprise, she and Chris thought a lot alike, they kill it at Christmas Heads Up. Thanks to Chris's impressive Christmas Carol knowledge, they win Christmas Carol Trivia. Due to Ivy's years as a mall gift wrapper, Ivy’s impressive speed wrapping skills, so they claim the prizes for the fastest and best-looking gift. They walk out of that party with the most prizes Ivy has ever won at an event.  “May I walk you to your car? I would hate for my lovely lady companion to slip and hurt herself on the ice and those shoes do not look ice safe.” He offers her his arm. “You may, but only because I'm parked right next to your sister who I assume you drove with.” She takes his arm and almost slips, he smiles but says nothing of it.  “Correct, so did I win the shopping excursion?” He guides her around ice patches.  “Smart move, not calling it a date.” She counters. “Come on, there must be a day when you get off early this week, and you were planning on going shopping. It's the second week of December. There's no way you're leaving it till the last minute.” He grins.  She caves, “Wednesday, Central Mall, Three pm. Meet at the door or I’ll start without you and good luck finding me in the mall.”  “Perfect. I’ll be there with my shopping list in tow. And if we conquer our shopping lists in under two hours or less, I will treat you to hot chocolate. And maybe if you're having such a great time, I can convince you to go to dinner with me.” He stops next to her car. “You think you’re smooth. I'll give you that Mr. Chris Kringle.” She smirks as she unlocks her car, and he opens the door before she can. She gets in without arguing. “Ooh, nicknames, I like it. I’ll come up with one for you by Wednesday. I’ll see you again, Ivy.” He closed her door and waved for his brother-in-law to unlock their car. Ivy isn't sure if it’s the cold or if she is actually blushing. She can’t be, there is no way. This man she'd met a mere two hours ago made her blush. This is not a Christmas movie, this is not how the real world works. But Wednesday came and at three o'clock, she pulls into the mall parking lot and he was standing by the main entrance, “Ready to shop till we drop Lady Noel?” “You know just because I called you Chris Kringle does not mean you need to find me a nickname.” She rolls her eyes, as they walk in. “I like to keep people on their toes.” He shrugs and pulls out his list. To Chris's credit Ivy finds his shopping strategy impressive. He shops with a plan, he has a list, a strategy and it works pretty well with the way that she shops. They make it through the lists in record time. He even had tips for the gifts she wasn’t sure about, “Does he use this brand already?” He holds up the tool she was thinking about getting for her brother-in-law. “I honestly don't know. I just know that he needed this particular tool and nobody was gonna buy it for him.” She shrugs, staring at the shelf of tools. “Well, this brand is more reliable and it's actually cheaper. So I would buy it. And if he prefers the other model, then cool, get a gift receipt and you can pay him the difference between the two tools.”  “I can see the logic.” She takes the cheaper tool hoping for the best.  Next, when at the bookstore, she grabs the newest book by her little sister's favourite author, “Um, is she a big reader?” Chris stops her.  “Oh yeah, the biggest!” She laughs thinking of her sister disappearing into a book on Christmas Day.  “I’d get her the hardcover. Any reader unless they explicitly say they prefer paperbacks, would always prefer the hardcover. And besides you saved money and your brother-in-law's gift you can splurge for your sister.” “Alright, fair enough. Other than picking up my parents' spa day gift card, I’m done, you?” Ivy starts to walk towards the till. “Uh, other than I don't have a gift for Bec. Everything on her list connected to the baby, but I mean, she deserves to have a gift, just for her, don't you think?” He shrugs. “Absolutely. Here.” Ivy hands him a book from her small pile. “She kept talking about this journal, we’ll stop by the stationary store before we get that hot chocolate you promised. And I’ll get her a spa afternoon, and Auntie Ivy will babysit.” “Oh, smart. She gets a break and you get an afternoon with an adorable baby! Thank you for the idea.” They pay and walk out of the store, “And you're saying I earned a cup of hot chocolate with you.” He teases. She rolls her eyes, “Don’t push your luck, Chris Kringle.” She leads the way to the coffee shop. Ivy kinda hated to admit it, but Chris is fun. She’s enjoying spending time with him, maybe she could see him again - for a strictly practical reason. “Hey, you said  that if you kept seeing me it would keep Becca off your back?” He smirks and nods, “I, um - I need a date for a church Christmas event. Otherwise, I will be set up by at least four different ladies in my church.”  “You got it, name the time and place I’ll be there with bells on.” She starts.  She cuts him off, “Please no bells.” They both laugh, “Thank you! I'll tell the ladies at Bible study I'm bringing a date this year, saving me from grandsons and nephews and brothers visiting town.”  He picks up the mugs, signalling the end of their time together, “Hey, I temporarily move here - I'm not just visiting. I'll be here, well after December.”   She watches him take the mugs to the bin, “You're right. You will.” Ivy smiles, and this time the hint of blush is real, and could not be blamed on any cold.

Gracie huffs as she takes in her new placement on the Christmas tree. As a hand-stitched angel ornament made with care for the little girl of this family, she resented being on the bottom of the tree. For the last four years, no matter where the little girl places her on the tree after the kids go to bed the mother of the family rearranges the tree and Gracie ends up back here. The mom mutters something about “Soft ornaments belong where small hands and animals could reach.” So what, she protects the more delicate ornaments?  She was an angel after all, shouldn't she be allowed to be near the top of the tree? Wasn't that where angels belong? Despite her grumbling, there wasn't much she could do. She just hung there.  Thanks to the cat's occasional nuzzling and her attempts not to react she was closer to the edge of the branch than she would like. As presents were piled under the tree she, like last year fell off the tree, trapped behind a present. She lies stuck on the ground, the only to be found once Christmas is long gone like always.  But this year the children seemed more interested in what was under the tree, “Izzy look this one is for you!” Gracie hears the older brothers call to their little sister.  Gracie listens as the kids giggle and shuffle presents around and Gracie can see past the presents for the first time in weeks. Gracie wishes she could move or talk to get little Izzy’s attention but that would break the rules so she stayed still. “Do you know what it is?” Izzy shakes her presents.  “No idea” One of her brothers teases, “It’s not like I was with mom when she bought it.”  “Hey now, no spoilers for Christmas!” the oldest brother reminds the middle brother and shoos him away. “What do you think it is Izzy?”  Gracie listens as the little girl comes up with crazy ideas of what her mother might have bought her. But before she put the present back, “Hey! What’s that?” Chubby little figures reached under the tree and grabbed hold of Gracie,  “My angel fell!”  “Oh, that's too bad Izzy, here I’ll help you put it back on the tree.” Her brother offered.  “It’s an angel shouldn’t we put it higher on the tree?” Izzy reaches up.  Her brother shakes his head, “I don’t know kid, Mom says the soft ornaments belong on the bottom of the tree.”  “Because of me and the cat… I know, I know. But it’s an angel.” She huffs.  “Do you really wanna mess with mom’s perfect tree?” Her brother teases.  “Good point, but I’m taking my angel to my room!” Izzy cups Gracie in her hands and darts down the hall.  Izzy carries her newfound treasure into her room and carefully hangs Gracie on her bedpost. “There! That’s where you belong!” Well, Gracie wasn't so sure, “Angels belong up on the trees.” She speaks without thinking.  “What was that?” Izzy stares at her. Gracie froze, careful not to make any more noise, “You talked! I heard you!”  “No, you didn't.” Gracie mumbles.  “You did it again!” Izzy picks Gracie up again, “Do all ornaments talk?” No use fighting it now, “Well, not all ornaments,” she explains, “Just ones that are made with love and care.”  “Grandma made you for me, and she loves me! She tells me I’m her special little girl!”  Izzy jumps up and down. “And her love for you made me talk,” Gracie explains while being jostled around.  Izzy paused “Do you want to be in here?” “I'd rather be on the top of the tree.” Gracie sighs.  “We already have a big angel on top of the tree.” Izzy shugs as if that somehow fixes it. “Well, I know, but I wish I could be closer to her. I'm an angel. Isn't that where we belong?” Gracie exclaims. “Well, I don't know.” Izzy shrugs. “I think so. Can you help me?” Gracie pleads.  “Well, I don't know. You've heard what Paul said, what if Mom gets mad that I moved an ornament and I can't reach the top of the tree…” Izzy paces around her room. “What if I just threw you up on the tree?”  “That sounds painful.” Gracie cringes, picturing herself falling the tree again. “You're right. Hold on, stay there.” Izzy puts Gracie back on her bedpost and grabs a book that Gracie couldn’t quite make out.  Soon Izzy was back, dragging her Paul into her room. “Will you read me the Christmas story?”  “Again? Seriously, you heard it on Sunday, and you had mom read it to you last night.” Paul sits on her bedroom floor, “Isn’t there another book you want to read?”  “No, I want this one. Please!!” She looks at him with big pleading, eyes.  Paul rolls his eyes and takes the books, “Alright fine you win.” Izzy beams and sits next to him.  Gracie listens, she tries to figure out how this story was supposed to help her get up on the tree. She hears about an angel telling a young girl she was gonna be a mother, and an angel telling the girl’s soon-to-be husband not to leave her. Then she hears how the couple had to walk to Bethlehem even though the baby was due soon. Gracie wasn’t sure she understood, how does this connect to the gifts and the tree she sees every year?  Then the night, the little baby was born angels filled the sky sharing good news for all people, that this baby had come to save the world. Gracie began to wonder, but Izzy voiced her thoughts.  “Is that when we put an angel on top of the tree? Because they shared the good news” She interrupts Paul.  “I guess so.” Paul shrugs, “I don't see why not. They came to tell us about Jesus, who loves us and saved us.” “He came as a baby. Just like us! We learned that in Sunday school!” Izzy smiles proud she remembers. “Yep, and when he grew up he made a big difference for the whole world.” He ruffles her hair, “And when you're a bit bigger you’ll learn more about that change.”  “Thank you for reading to me but I’ve got something to do now.” She shoos Paul away.  Laughing he makes his way out of the room, “You’ll never make sense to me, Izzy. But happy to help with whatever that was.” “See angels are special. And that's why you go on the top of the tree.” Izzy collected Gracie in her hands and headed to the kitchen, “Mommy I want to move an ornament!” “Which one do you want to move my dear?” Her mom turns to face her daughter.  “I want to put the angel Grandma made me near the top of the tree because that's where Angels belong!” She stands up tall.  Her mom looks like she might argue about moving the ornament, but her husband looks up from the table, “I think that's a great idea honey! Here, I’ll help you!”  “Yay! Izzy leads her parents to the living room.  “But babe, the tree…”  “Can look chaotic my love, the kids don't care about perfect trees.” He picks Izzy up.  “Ya, you’re right. Boys! Come move a few ornaments around on the tree!” The boys come running and the family rearranges the tree. “There you go, right where you belong.” Izzy winked at Gracie.  Izzy never told anyone about Gracie talking to her and never heard Gracie talk again but every year that little hand-stitched angel sat near the top of the tree and made sure her kids knew why angels belonged there.