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"Ted, can you take this bowl to your mom? Auntie Eve and Uncle Tim should be here soon, and we need a snack table ready." Gloria hands him a bowl of chips, and his eyes go wide, and toldlers off to Carol.  Maxy and Felix come out of what used to be the girls' room, "Gran! We finished setting up for the sleepover!"  "Good! And your dad finished setting up his and Mom's room, so we're almost ready to ring in the new year. Gloria leads everyone to the living room, where her tree still glitters in the room. She set up the trucks for the boys to play with while they waited.  Soon, Tim and Eve enter the house, "We made it!" Eve hollers.  "Uncle Tim!" Ted and Maxy race to the entryway. "Did you get our cards?"  "Did they help you feel better?"  "Whoa, buddy, give the man some room to breathe!" Eve giggles, scooping up Ted, and Tim lifts Maxy, and they carry them back to the living room. "But yes, they did help." The boys wriggle out of their arms and return to their toy trucks. "Hello everyone!" Tim waves as Eve hugs her family. Tim shuffles awkwardly halfway between the hallway and the living room. Gloria stands and heads to the kitchen, motioning for him to follow. He walks in, "Sorry, I shouldn't feel so awkward, I just-" Gloria gently stops him, "Son, it's okay. We understood, nobody is mad you missed Christmas. You made it to the boys' Christmas show, and I was very proud of you. How are you really doing?"'  She hands him a cup of hot cocoa, "It feels like I'm drowning. I don't know if I'll ever feel like myself again." He stares into the cocoa. "Tim, your mom was so proud of who you grew up to be and would be even prouder of how you are handling all this." She reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. He gives her a nod, "I hope you're right, Mama G."  “One day you won't feel like drowning, and Felix and I will always be here for you." He nods, "Now, here let's go see who wants some punch!" She hands Tim the pitcher of juice, and she takes the cups.  While the kids play games with the boys, Felix and Gloria move the clocks ahead a couple of hours so that the boys think it's 11:30 instead of 8:30. The boys win their third round of Candy Land in a row, when Gloria and Felix return to the living room, Carol notices.  "Boys! Look at the time! It's almost midnight.  "Already?" Maxy whines clearly, already feeling overtired from the late bedtime and refusal to nap.  "It's almost time for the ball drop!' Teddy yells.  Felix turns on the TV to find a ball drop, and the boys clap and dance to whatever band is on. Everyone joins in creating a cacophony of singing and laughing.  Then the countdown starts. "10" Felix starts.  "9" Gloria joins in.  "8" Adds Will. "7," Carol calls out. “6” Tim follows after. “5" Eve shouts.  "4” Maxy jumps. “3" Franky screams.  "2” They gather close together.  "1!" They toss their hands in the air. " Happy New Year!” They cheer together.  "Daddy! You need to kiss Mom for the new year!" Maxy grabs his dad's hand and leads him to his mom. "You too, Pop-Pop!” Maxy pulls Felix to Gloria. They both share a kiss, and the boys cheer.  Tim and Eve stand on opposite sides of the room, hoping the boys don't get any ideas.  "Alright, boys, say goodnight. We have to go get settled." Will taps his wrist. They whine a bit but give everyone hugs and follow Will and Carol to bed.  It takes 30 minutes to wrangle the over-tried sugared-up boys into their beds. Will and Carol snuggle with one of them while Carol tells them a story. Soon they fall asleep.  Will and Carol sneak out of the room. Carol glances in the dining room and sees her parents, Eve, and Tim playing a card game, so she pulls Tim into the guest room. "Ah, quite," she flops on the bed. Will sits beside her, "I am so tempted to suggest we just crawl into bed and wake up in the new year." He chuckles. "Why don't we? I can text Eve. Mom and Dad are here, we could sleep without worrying about the boys." Carol takes a deep breath.  "That does sound lovely..." Will glances at the door, "You don't think they mind?" "I doubt it. Come, let's enjoy the quiet." Carol picks up her phone and texts her sister, and they call it a night.  Eve doesn't check her phone till they start their third game. She only looks because her mom asks, "Where are Will and Carol? Surely the boys couldn't have fought bedtime that hard." "Oh, Mom, looks like Carol texted me thirty minutes ago. She and Will called it a night." She giggles, "I can't say I blame them. Those boys are a handful.” Tim snorts, "What, the tiny tornates? No way." Everyone chuckles. "Goria, Felix, are you in the mood for another game?"  "I think I would like to ring in the new year reading, so I'm going to curl up in my spot with my book." Gloria stands and moves to the living room. "I think I'll join her. You kids, have fun." Felix follows his wife and soon his favourite record sings from the living room.  "Well, Eve looks like it's just you and me. You up for a lit one v one?" Tim leans back as he shuffles.  “Oh, you are so on!” Eve steals the deck and deals. After winning the tie-breaking game, Eve glances up at the clock. "Hey, it's 11:45, we should go see if mom and dad want to watch the ball drop again." Tim stretches and gets up from the table and joins Eve in the living room. "Looks like they couldn't make it.” Eve tosses a blanket on her parents, while Gloria's head rests on Felix's shoulder. Tim and Eve quickly and quietly tidy up so there is less work for Gloria in the morning. "Hey, grab our coats. We can stand on the back porch and see if anyone shoots off fireworks."  Tim slips to the entryway and brings back their boots and coats, and they slip out to the back porch. They lean against the railing. "We have about five minutes." Eve points to someone definitely appearing to launch something. "Just enough time for my favourite New Year's tradition. When I stand here in a year from now, I hope to not feel like I'm drowning every day. What about you, Eve?"  "Selfishly? I hope not to celebrate this season alone. But practically? I want to be content with where I am in life." Her sigh is deeper than she meant it to be. Tim shuffles closer and nudges her slightly. "Hey, it's not a selfish hope." Across the back alley, people start counting down and cheering. Soon fireworks fly, and Tim wraps his arm around her shoulders and kisses her cheek, “In fact, it's a pretty sweet hope. Happy New Year's Eve."  Eve's cheek ting pink and not just from the cold, "Happy New Year, Tim."

Aromas of Christmas fill Gloria's house, food is warming in the oven, the tree looks immaculate, and presents are piled perfectly. And soon she’d have the table set for her family, plus a guest. She’d invited Tim to join them this year; she didn’t want him to spend it alone. She looks at the clock, two hours, she had two hours. "Felix, can you bring me the last of the Christmas settings? I want to have to table set before they get here.'' Her husband's chuckle came from behind. "Already was on my way." He kisses her cheek and hands her the tote, "Everything looks lovely, dear." He glances at the table spread, "Looks like you have everything handled. I'm going to shovel to walk before everyone gets here." "Perfect. Once this is done, I’m going to curl up with my book till the kids get here." She places a hand on the chair set for Tim; she hadn't heard whether he was coming or not. Had she set him beside Eve on purpose? It was an old habit. Once, Gloria had hoped that Tim would ask Eve out, but that was before his mother passed. Gloria thought he’d been testing the waters earlier that year. But that was months ago, and she wasn't sure Tim's grief would ever let him see past one day at a time. Which broke her heart a bit. Eve deeply cared for Tim. With the table set, Gloria curled up in her chair and got lost in her Christmas book. She didn't even notice when Felix joined her in the living room until she heard his favourite record fill the room. She sighs happily, then she hears the boys yelling in the drive. She puts her book down and meets the boys at the door. "Hello, you two! Are you excited for Christmas?" They cheered and raced to find Grandpa in the living room. "Hi, mama." Carol hugs her. "Hi, baby." Gloria squeezes her tight. "Hi, Will." Gloria releases her daughter and gives her son-in-law a brief hug. "Merry Christmas, Mom." Gloria leads them to the living room. The boys eagerly looked under the tree. "Mommy, can we open something now?" Ted asks excitedly. "We can't, Teddy! Auntie Eve isn't here yet." Franky explains. His brother huffs and plops on the floor. “But Auntie Eve is ALWAYS late!” The family laughs at the boy's frustration. Gloria hands them both a small, new toy to play with while they wait. Eve couldn't have been more than fifteen behind them, but by the boys' reactions, it could have taken hours. "Antie Eve!" Franky runs to her. "We can open presents now!! Ted yells. "Boys! Let your aunt take off her coat before you crowd her. Carol joins her sons in the entryway. "Hey, big sis." "Hey, girly." Eve hugs her sister. "Boys, can you take these to Gran so she can find a home under the tree?" She hands the boys a few presents, and they race off. The two sisters join their family in the living room. Gloria gets up to greet her oldest daughter. "Any word from Tim?" Eve shuffles, "Not yet, but the invite was for dinner. So let's let the boys open gifts." Gloria feels her face fall, but gets started on Christmas fun. After a few hours, all the gifts are opened and wrapping paper and bows are everywhere. The boys are tossing paper at their dad and grandpa. Gloria is about to have the girls help her bring the food from the kitchen when Eve's phone rings, and she slips out on the back porch to answer. Gloria's stomach drops. What if that was Tim? His mother had been a good friend; she wanted to give him a sure place to exist in his grief. Carol stands, and Gloria reads the cue, and they start to put food on the table. Eve joins them in the dining room; "Deary what happened?" “Tim isn't coming. He just can't get out of bed today." Eve grabs the green beans and sets them on the table, and then removes the place setting and chair for Tim without being asked. Gloria feels her face fall. "Oh. Well, we'll have to send him a plate of food." "Of course, Mama, I can take a plate tonight." Eve nods. Carol gives Eve a look, and Eve shoots her little sister a glare in return. Gloria pretends not to notice the silent conversation happening between her daughters. "Uncle Tim isn't coming!" Franky whines. Clearly, he'd been looking forward to Tim's presence. Gloria looks at Carol, trying to decide who will explain it to him, when Eve kneels in front of him. “I know, bud, you wanted him to join us, but Uncle Tim is dealing with very big feelings today, and he can't get out of bed.” "Is he sad because of what happened to Grandma V? Ted asks, joining his brother." "Yeah, he is. Tell you what, after dinner we'll dig out Grandma's craft supplies and make some feel better cards, alright?" The boys nod and race to the table, and everyone finds their seats. Gloria watches as Carol thanks her sister for reacting so well and quickly. “I just told them what you or Mom would have said.” Gloria smiles to herself; she really has raised wonderful daughters. The empty chair in the corner catches her eye. She wishes Tim could feel safe here; had she pushed too hard? Were the cookies and invite too much? Apparently, she'd been too quiet. Eve took her hand, pulling her away from the spiral, "Mama, he felt seen. He wanted to come, but he just can't today. He'll be here on New Year's like always. He promised." The family enjoys the meal, and as Gloria brings out dessert, Felix hands each household a smaller pillar candle. He lights the Christ candle in the center of the Advent wreath. Eve lights her candle from the Christ candle first and sets her candle in place. "Take this light," Will takes his family candle and does the same as Carol says, "And share it year-round." Giving her boys a squeeze on the shoulder as they focus more on desserts than the family ritual. Gloria lights hers from the Christ candle, "Let this light warm and guide you." She glances at the empty chair. Felix takes the candle that would have been Tim's and lights it the same, “All throughout the year." The family shares a smile and carries on with their evening. Once Eve gets the boys busy making cards. She pulls Carol aside and hands her another gift. Gloria hides a smile as Carol gives her sister a surprised look, “What else did you get me?” “Mom mentioned you said something about a broken ornament.” Eve winks at Golria. Carol unwraps her gift to find a shadow box with a red and white striped Christmas ball, featuring a collection of photos from the Christmases they spent in their apartment together behind the ornament. “Oh Evey…” She hugs her sister. Shortly after that, it becomes clear it's bedtime for the boys, so Carol and Will gather everything into the car. Gloria makes a plate of food and a plate of dessert for Tim, and Eve tucks the cards the boys made between the plates. Soon, the house is quiet again, and Felix wraps his arms around her. "Feel okay, love?" She glances at the candles still lit on the table, she thinks about the lights that went home with her girls and the light that would be shown at Tim's house tonight, and she sighs contentedly. "I am, it was a wonderful day."

Timothy sits in the coffee shop, and the holiday music plays in the background; he tries to tune it out. The scent of Peppermint is baked into the air, staining the taste of his black coffee. He is tempted to ask for a new one, but he doesn’t want to bother the already overwhelmed barista. Each sip reminded him of his mom, which made the cloying sweetness feel like ash in his mouth. She is gone; Christmas had been her season. She always made it feel magical, even when he was grown. Without her, it didn't seem worth it this year. The pain in his chest wells up again, and he debates leaving the coffee shop. Eve is late, which isn’t surprising, but had he remembered how late Eve often is, he would have stayed in his car. He's done so well at avoiding Christmas this year, but this might just do him in. He should text Eve that he can't do this today; she’d understand, she always did. It’s why he wanted to see her so badly. As he prepares to leave the coffee shop when Eve walks in. “Tim!” she waves at him. She sets a bag on the chair across from him and goes to get, no doubt, some Christmas limited-time drink. To his surprise, she sits down with a white chocolate. He raises an eyebrow, "What, no Christmas drink?" he teases. "Not today." She smiles. "Here, Mama sent your favourites." She slides a simple blue tin across the table. "You'll have to thank her for me." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "They are packed in such a way that they can be easily frozen." Eve pauses, "She also wants me to remind you that you are welcome with us for Christmas. I tried to explain, but you know how she is." "Tell her I'll think about it." He takes a sip of his coffee. "I know you said no gift this year, but remember that old box that Granny gave me, I was telling you about?” He nods skeptically. “Well, these were in there, and I think you need them." Tim watches her slide the box across the table, but he doesn’t move to take it. "Eve, I really don't-" "I know, but they don't belong with me. They belong with you. You don't have to open it today." She sips her hot chocolate, and they talk about everything other than Christmas. He even talks about his mom again. The tightness in his chest lessens. He tucks the box and cookie tin under his arm and walks out with Eve. "Thanks for meeting with me. I know you have a bunch of holiday things going on." "Hey, I'll always make time for you. Call me anytime." They approach his car, and Eve pulls him into a hug. At first, it feels like the hugs they’d share before, but then she doesn’t let go and squeezes a bit tighter. The weight of the last few months lands, and he holds her tighter, trying not to fall apart in the coffee shop parking lot. She whispers, "I mean it, anytime." "I know. And I promise I'll really think about your mom's invitation." "Good, oh! And don't be surprised if the boys insist on inviting Uncle Tim to the Christmas Play. I'm not sure my sister can convince them not to." "I already have it marked in my calendar. I may not be in a Christmas mood, but I won't let the twins down." They share a smile, and Eve heads to her car. Tim drives back to the house. He slips into his studio apartment they'd built over the garage. His parents had it built when he was in college, so he had his own space to come home to. When his dad passed, Tim had moved back home into this little space so his mom wasn't alone. He owned the house now, but he wasn't sure he could live there; he wasn't sure selling or renting it was the answer. After Christmas, that was an after-Christmas problem. He puts the cookie tin straight into the freezer and sets the gift on the coffee table. Eve hadn't even wrapped it in Christmas paper; it's in a simple brown paper. He sits on his small sofa and stares at the box; he wants to open it. Part of him wishes he'd set up some kind of Christmas thing, but at the same time, it still stings. He places the box in his lap, and he slowly tears into the paper and lifts open the box. Inside, carefully wrapped in paper are little trains, "Oh... Eve...." Ignoring his tears, he picks up each one, the cheery red caboos with gingerbread men waving from the windows, the open car with teddy bears piled like coal would be, and the train car his mother always wanted but thought she’d never find, a train car with a doll being finished by an elf. "It completes Mom’s set." He knows exactly where the rest of the set is. He races into his mom's house and climbs into the attic, and finds his mom's box of Christmas decor, her box of the holiday train decorations is right on top. He also grabs the Advent wreath box and takes both boxes back to his garage apartment. He sets up the Advent wreath first on the coffee table, taking his time to make it look like Mom would have liked. He then pulls out the train set and puts it up just like she would have, only he sets it up around the wreath. Once Tim sets up the pieces that belonged to his mother, he places the new pieces where she always said they would go when she found them. For the first time in months, his smile doesn't feel forced. "I miss you, Mom." He lights the Christ candle in the center of the wreath, breaking tradition, but it just felt right. Mom would understand. He thought about how thrilled his mom would have been to see this set complete. He picks up his phone and snaps a photo, and sends it to Eve with a simple "Thank you." He sits back and lets the candlelight dance across the train set pieces, both old and new. While the pain was still there for a moment, it didn't sting so badly. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

From the kitchen, Carol listens to the boys' war cries, as they turn her once tidy living room into a battleground, she hears something about dragons and magic. At this point, she doesn’t want to know. She’d sent them to her mothers earlier that day, so she could clean the house for decorating the tree and putting up the rest of Christmas. She planned on waiting till Sunday, but when the boys woke up to see the tree in the living room, they couldn’t wait to decorate. She’d hoped that meant they would be calm this evening, but instead, she has twin boys wreaking havoc on a once clean room. But she'd promised they could decorate the tree, so she would keep that promise. She hadn't counted on her mother letting the boys sample Christmas cookies. Carol had expected them to try one or two, but the boys had rattled off at least five different flavours. She'd wanted a calm, quiet night decorating their Christmas tree. She should have known better. She sighs as her husband walks through the door, "Well, that's a loaded sigh if I ever heard one. Let me guess, the boys are sugar goblins?" She meets him in the entryway and nods silently, resting her head on his chest. He wraps her in a tight hug, and they stand together until another battle cry echoes into the entryway. Coral tenses, Will chuckles, “Well, good thing I need help shovelling snow. Ted, Franky! We're moving snow, let's go!"Coral jumps back as the boys come racing from the living room. "Dad! Daddy!" The boys sheick and wriggle themself around his legs, causing Will to grab the door frame to keep from tumbling over. "Grandma let us taste test her Christmas cookies!" Understanding dawning on Will, "Ah! I see I see." He shakes the boys off his legs, "Guess you'll have all the energy we need for shovelling snow!” he gestures to the living room with an eyebrow raised. She puts her hand up, "If you keep them outside long enough, I'll reset the living room and set up supper." "Alright, boys, snow gear, let's go!” Carol helps get the boys out the door and breathes in the quiet, “Alright, let’s do this.” She walks into the living room and puts the sofa cushions back, where they belong. As she folds the blankets that had been used for forts. The quiet starts to feel silent, she plays soft holiday music to have some controlled sound. She throws pillows back on the sofa. Looking at the toys spread across the floor, sighing, she tosses them into a laundry basket to be dealt with in the morning. She pulls the ornament boxes out and sets them in front of the coffee table, “Ohh, Will and I haven’t sorted these out yet.” She looks at the clock. Did she have time to sort them out real quick? “No, no, it will be fine, Will and I will both be here, we can manage it.” She walks back to the kitchen to finish supper. She sneaks a peek out the window, and she sees the boys playing with their dad, running and screaming. Laughing as he tosses each of them into a snow bank. She pulls out a serving platter and slices up some cheese, cuts apples, and places them along with some carrots on the platter. She puts popcorn in four small bowls for each of them. She sees them still playing, so she quickly makes some stove-top hot chocolate. She sets the food and drink on the coffee table as the door opens and the boys come charging in, calling out, "Mommy! Mom! We were so helpful! She chuckles and meets them at the entryway, trying to keep them from bringing snow inside. "I'm sure you were." She kneels to look them in the eye, they still look hyper, they have rosy cheeks and their sweat has their hair plastered to their faces. She wipes hair from their eyes, “Ready for our first Christmas tradition?" "Yeah!" The boys cheer. Carol and her husband wrangle the boys out of their snow suits and into the living room. Carol tries to explain the rules with the ornaments and that they have to be careful with certain ones. The boys are more interested in the food and hot chocolate in front of them. She can barely get through the ornament boxes with the boys before they are tossing soft ornaments at each other. Her husband tries to refocus their energy, it works for a moment. The music plays in the background, and Carol snaps cute photos for the memory books. This picture-perfect moment lasts for all of five minutes before Ted shoves Franky out of the way to put his ornaments in that exact spot. And the ornaments tossing begins again. Before Carol or Will can stop them, Franky tosses a Christmas ball in Ted's direction, and it shatters across the ground, for a second time stops. The sound pierces Carol, looking at the shimmer pieces on her hardwood floor, she realizes what ornament Franky threw, a simple red and white striped Christmas ball. The last one she had from the tree she and her sister, Eve, had shared the year they lived together. It burns more than she expresses. I knew I should have taken the time… Food could have waited. Then reality hits, and there is no time for overwhelming, silly emotions; the boys could not step on one of the pieces. Will grabs Franky, and Carol grabs Ted, and they toss them on the couch. "Don't move." They say at the same time. Coral moves to the kitchen and grabs the broom. Tears prick at her eyes, and she blinks them away. Her boys are young; they aren't trying to wreck her ideallic Christmas tradition or the last ornament of a cherished memory. Maybe she should have insisted they wait until Sunday, then she and Will would have had time to sort out the twin safe ornaments for decorating and saved the ones they couldn’t lose for decorating after the boys had gone to bed. She'd just thought the boys were old enough… Her spiral is stopped by Will meeting her in the kitchen. He puts his hand on the broom handle, tugging it towards himself slightly. She doesn’t let go immediately, she looks up at him with tears brimming, he pulls the broom free from her grip and sets it aside, and pulls her into another hug, the tears flow, “Shhh, I know, I know.” He rubs her back before wiping her tears, "Take a moment.” His tone is soft. “I'll clean up and chat with the boys." She takes his hand, giving it a grateful squeeze. He pulls her close and kisses her forehead before taking the broom and turning to deal with the mess. She slides down the cabinet and sits on the floor, the wood on her back, and the cool floor ground her. Her foot kicks the box of Advent supplies. She reaches over and pulls it towards her. Opening it, she finds the Christ candle sitting on top. She takes it out, “I suppose chaos and Christmas kinda go together.” She lets out a small laugh. Despite knowing she has to go back to the living room, she stands up, finds the lighter in the drawer and lets the candle, setting it on the island she breaths in slowly, letting herself remember the chaos of the first Christmas, a young girls life getting turned upside down a baby in a stable, smelling shepherds showing up hours after the brith. She feels her heart rate slow, and the Christ candle light flickers and dances. Yeah, it’s okay that her Christmas had a little bit of chaos in it. Even if she missed the days when she could have everything just right. She hears her children ask if Mommy was mad at them. She blows out the candle and walks to the living room. Leaning on the door frame, "No babies, I'm not mad, I just had an idea of how I wanted tonight to go, and it hasn't gone that way. And that's okay. Would you like to try again?" She didn’t need to explain that the broken ornament was special to her; it wasn’t worth it right now, and who knows, Eve might still have the ones she kept. "Yes!" Ted jumps off the couch. "We'll be careful!" Franky yells. Will and Carol tuck some of the more fragile ones away and try again. It's still chaotic, but Carol lets the calm from earlier flow through her.

Eve tries not to cringe as her grandma hands her a box of random Christmas decor, "You have your own place now deary, so here take this. It's all the decor I don't have space for in my new place." Great, Grandma’s left overs, "Thanks, Granny. I'm sure they'll come in handy. Do you want them back in January?" Eve shifts the box, getting ready to walk out the door. “Oh no, I've loved them for years, you take them and make your own traditions." Her Granny waves her off, and the feeling that these are leftovers grows. Eve thanks her Granny and slips out the door, trying not to be frustrated with her Granny insisting on her creating traditions, especially with the unsettling feeling that her granny had handed her a box a junk she didn't want. She tosses the box in her trunk, and for a moment, she debates simply taking it to the thrift store without ever opening the box. As she slams her car door shut, she thinks better of it. What if there’s something in that box that mom would miss or want? No, it needed to go to her apartment. She drives through her little town, Christmas sights all around; holiday music on the radio, coloured lights flickering across her dashboard. She should be getting in the spirit of the season, but her Granny’s words replay in her mind, “make your own traditions.” Eve hit her fist on the steering wheel. “Isn’t that what I’ve been doing for the LAST FIVE YEARS? Creating traditions, ON MY OWN? When do I get to have someone join me? When do I get to spend time gushing over cute traditions I’ve started with someone like Carol does with mom every year?” Tears of frustration prick at her eyes. Before visiting her Granny, she’d stopped by her mom's to pick up something for Gran. Carol had been over with the boys, telling Mom all about how she and Will were once again going to put the tree up, while the boys slept, so they would wake up to some Christmas magic. Eve slams the car into park with more force than is needed. The icy walkway and stairs force her to quiet her thoughts and focus on not slipping. Taking in a breath, she opens the door to her cozy apartment, hints of Christmas starting to show. She carefully drops the dumb on the living room floor. "Might as well deal with this now. See if any of it is worth saving." She makes herself a cup of hot cocoa and grabs a few cookies; her mom is testing new cookie recipes for Christmas, so far, the toffee chocolate chip is Eve's new favourite. She opens the box and is hit with a wave of Christmas, only it’s not the cozy smell of peppermint and cocoa that is nostalgic for her, but a stale, old Christmas smell, like something that sat in the back of the garage, forgotten about until you had to move. "Oh my gosh, Granny! How old is the box?" Eve backs away and lets the box air out for a bit before digging in. She snaps a photo of the box and texts Carol, “You are so lucky Granny doesn’t unload her junk on you and your family. This box is STALE.” Her sister sends her back a photo of the boys and the kitchen covered in chocolate syrup. Eve glances at her perfectly clean kitchen; there were perks to living alone. After an hour, she tries again, and it's still bad, but not as bad. The first layer is old table runners and tablecloths that Eve couldn't remember ever seeing on a table. She unfolds them and finds them full of stains and holes, "What a shame, some of these are quite pretty." She goes to start a trash pile, but stops herself; her sewing machine catches her eye. She sets them aside for now. Next, she finds some old plates that, if Eve remembers right, are from Mom's childhood. Sadly, they're in pieces, she carefully pulls out the broken parts, and sets them in the trash bin. Only one plate remains intact, a simple cream coloured plate with a red border, curved slightly. Eve isn't sure if it had warped or if it always looked like this, but something about it made her want to keep it. She pulls out old pillow covers to make throw pillows festive; she didn't have throw pillows, so to the donate pile they go. At the bottom of the box is a collection of tissue paper-wrapped items, "Oh boy, here we go." Her Granny, a notorious buyer of useless knick-knacks. Eve shakes her head and slowly unwraps each one. She uncovers little Christmas statues; parts to a ceramic toy train set. A set Granny definitely didn't have; in fact, Eve was positive Granny never used them in her house. It’s a cute set, and Eve is sure she’s seen it before. She closes her eyes and runs through Christmas memories, who in her life had this train set on their mantel. Suddenly, it clicks, and she knows exactly which of her friends will appreciate it most. She finds a small box and wraps it in simple brown paper, and sets it by the door to be delivered. Tucked under extra paper in the box, she finds a tall white pillar candle that has never been lit. "Well, I needed a new Christ candle anyway." She tidies up her living room and looks at the stained and worn fabric, "It seems wasteful to throw it all away." She lays out each one, tracing around the holes, and squares them off. She walks those parts to the sink. Eve uses hot water and her peppermint soap to wash out both the stains at the smell. She sees some stains come out, but most don’t; they have been baked into the fabric. In rinsing out the soap, the stale Christmas smell fades, and the familiar Christmas smell returns. She uses her iron to speed up the drying process and to smooth out wrinkles. She makes smaller squares around the leftover stains. It didn't leave her with a lot of fabric, but with the right layout, it made a lovely single placemat of vintage Christmas fabrics. The project becomes all-consuming as she lays out the small squares; her mind wanders back to her meltdown in the car. She thinks over the different traditions she's started. She has a lovely themed tree, a garland that hangs atop her bookshelf, and a wreath she decorates every year. She’d even adopted her family's tradition of having her own little Advent wreath. She pauses to glance at the wreath sitting in front of the window. As she places pieces together, she feels the familiar sting of loneliness; she'd decorated alone again, she'd go to events alone again, and she'd go elsewhere to celebrate Christmas despite decorating her own home. Is it so wrong to want someone to celebrate with, to do those things with? She looks at the square she's pieced together. She runs her hand over the squares. Would her life come together like this? Will she someday have a Christmas full of traditions she and someone else had made? Or could she continue build a Christmas all her own? She finds a piece of dark green felt in her own collection and prepares to hand-sew them together. She lets a Christmas movie play in the background and gives her brain a break. Her little design takes no time at all. She binds it together. Looking at it, she finds the answer to her question: Christmas traditions are all about finding little pieces to bring together, so she will keep creating her own Christmas; she can always add someone else's in if she had the chance. She moves to the table where her Advent wreath sits, and she carefully sets all the pieces aside. Letting her new placemat fill the table, she picks up the plate and pillar candle from Granny's and centers them on the table. She rearranges her other four smaller candles for the Sundays of Advent, making a photo-worthy display. Despite it not being Christmas Eve or a Sunday, she lights the Christ candle in the centre of her wreath. She watches the light dance on her wall. She lets herself feel the excitement for what is to come this Christmas season and the next ones after.

Abigail the Squirrel blushed as she rushed into the room, all eyes turned to her, “Sorry, I’m late. Thea and Kade had dance practice tonight, and Braiden was late getting home from work.” “Oh, no worries, Abby. We never mind  waiting for you.” Nora the owl smiled as she grabbed Abby’s coat to hang up, “Jenna made jam cake for today, help yourself.” Abby smiled and hurried for her coffee and jam cake. “Can we get started soon? I think I loved “Love Lost in Time” more than the first two romance stories!” Violet the Skunk smiled eagerly as she scooted her chair over so there was room for Abby. “Of course. Now that we’re all here. Violet, I assume you want to kick this discussion off?” Violet blushed, but nodded  “I really enjoyed the premise of this story. The way both characters evolved, how they each found closure and a happy ending. I just loved it!” “Care to dig in a bit more? Why did you love it? It wasn’t my favourite, if I’m being honest.” Tracey the Rabbit asked, sipping her coffee. “I found the idea of the timers to be really interesting. I wish I had a timer telling me when Mr. Right will show up. I felt it was really well written and laid out quite nicely.  I really like the slight plot twist that the soulmates were from a different point in time. How come you didn’t like it, Tracey?” I didn’t love the premise. The idea that you know when you’ll meet your soulmate just seemed kinda boring to me. Maybe it’s just me, but it felt a little predictable. With the title and then the negative number, what other way could it go? ” “Interesting. I was surprised by the twist. I wasn’t sure where the author was going with the story.” Abby added. “I thought it was an interesting take on the idea. And I really loved the letter at the end, that there was closure for both Joey and Alice.” “It was nonsense if you ask me.” Bernard the Raccoon cut in with a grunt. “That’s the problem with young folks today. You always want the answers handed to you.  But what would you learn?” “Not everything needs a lesson,” Violet rolled her eyes. “You are quite right, Violet, there doesn’t always need a lesson.” Nora gently cut in. “However, I do love the unknown more than a planned-out road map. Which is what I enjoyed about this story. The author has two characters who had major unknowns in a world where your fate is laid out for you in terms of a countdown to your soulmate.” “That’s a well put way to say that, Nora!” Abby clapped her hands. “And I did like that this story would have lent itself well to an enemies-to-lovers idea, as Joey and Alice had two different takes on what to do if your soulmate dies before you ever meet them, but she chose for them to be neutral first. When they first met, they didn’t hate each other but were actually interested in the other's theory, which I felt was more relatable.”  “I still felt this story was too easy.” Bernard said, sipping his coffee. “Well, if it was too easy, let me ask you all this,” Nora smiled, “what camp would you be in? Find the soulmate or not? The timer ran out on your wrist, and you never met them. What would you do?” “Oh, I’d have to find them to get closure! There is no way I could live with the what-ifs.” Violet quickly jumped in, “It would just be awful to not know.” “I think I’d agreed with Violet,” Abby said, “I’d like the closing that came with knowing.” “I’d be more like Alice. Just live my life my way, and if I meet someone, then that’s that!” Jenna added and looked at Bernard, “I’ll stick with Jenna. No sense grieving and watching for what you don't have. What about you, Nora?” “Oh my, I’ll have to be the tie breaker.” Nora stopped and pondered for a moment, “But I do think I’m with Jenna and Bernard.” Violet and Abby sighed and shrugged their shoulders, while Jenna tried to high-five Bernard, who just stared at her. “Any more thoughts? Shall we move on?” Nora waited before smiling, “Alright, onto Fictional Love.” “I really enjoyed this one, even though it was on the shorter side.” Jenna started, “I could put myself right into it, I’ve done this so many times, one minute I’m reading and the next I’m off in some different world. I will say, I was taken by surprise that the reader at the end of the book was from the modern world. I had assumed it would be a princess daydreaming about her knight.” “I assumed that too!” Violet jumped in, “I thought for sure it would be about a princess who read too many books and had dreams of running away with her forbidden lover. But I did like how we found out it was from our time. It really made me think about the last time I allowed my imagination the freedom to go exploring.” “I have to admit, this story caught me completely off guard. And it made me a little sad.” “How come, Abby?” Nora asked, “Well, I,  like the author, used to imagine myself in my books as I read them, but as I got older, it felt too childish to do that. But after reading this story,  it got me thinking. Why does it have to be childish? Why can’t I lose myself in books in my 30s?” “A good question indeed. I’ve never experienced losing myself in a book like this story, but after reading it, I’d like to try and just shut my brain off the next time I read to try and discover this feeling. “I wasn’t allowed to do such things,” Bernard added quietly. “My teacher was never pleased when I let my imagination run wild or when I’d get lost in a book. Have to say, it’s been a while since I’ve tried to lose myself in a book. But I almost did while reading this one.” The girls all smiled brightly at Bernard, who glared, “But I didn’t cause it was a romance story.” The room burst out laughing, “Oh, Bernard. I do hope you never change,” Nora smiled with a laugh. “Now, do we have any other thoughts?” The discussion lasted another couple of minutes before it wrapped up. “Wonderful, for next week, we’ll be into part two of the book, the friendship stories. Have The Same Spot and Keeper of Dreams read for next week.” “Goodbye, Nora!” Abby smiled and waved as she and the others left. Nora waved goodbye and continued to pack up.

Mindy has been waiting for this for weeks. She has a brand new puzzle that she has been desperate to do. This weekend's forecast is perfect weather for it. Rain, all weekend, and she has no plans; it’s going to be perfect. After work on Friday, she made a point of getting the house clean. So on Saturday, as the rain falls outside her window and the grey sky rolls on by, Mindy dumps the puzzle out on her kitchen table. She loves the sound it makes and that cardboard smell. She quickly starts sorting the pieces, and she feels a wave of peace wash over her. "This is exactly what I needed," she sighs contentedly. She starts to put the edge pieces together, and she stares at the picture. It's a woman standing on the shore in a white dress, holding a violin. The shore isn't sand, it's a piano fading into sand.  When Mindy first bought the puzzle, she thought the boat was leaving, but looking at it now, the boat was definitely returning. The photo had tugged at Mindy's imagination at the store. Was the woman waiting for a lover? Or preparing for battle? So many options.  As she places pieces together, her mind unwillingly wanders to the fight between her and her boyfriend, Eddie, had before he left for his short-term research project. She’d been so mad he’d agreed to go without talking to her first, she’d said things she hadn’t meant, but neither of them had picked up the phone to call. What if neither of them picked up the phone again? Would those be the last words she spoke to him?  Tears prick at her eyes, and the lines of the puzzle start to blur. Mindy shuts her eyes hard, forcing the tears away. She draws her eyes away from the puzzle and back to the photo on the box. She’d seen so much whimsy in the photo at the store, a woman watching her lover go, sending him off with the violin farewell. Now that she sees the ship is returning, it makes her heart ache.  Is the water moving in the picture? She leans in closer; her table feels rougher, more like stone than her woodgrain table. She has to have been sitting here longer than she thought she had; she should take her break. The rain must be falling harder than before; it sounds like waves crashing against the shore. Her kitchen chair feels stiff and uncomfortable.  Is there a window open somewhere? She could feel rain on her skin. Wait - When did she take off her cozy sweater? She rubs her eyes, her kitchen table is gone, her house has vanished, and she is in the picture from her puzzle! "I have to be dreaming. right?" she pinches her arm and feels the pain, and groans, "I just wanted a simple afternoon! Not some fantasy world experience." She beats her fists against the rock she realises she's sitting on. As she does, she realizes she's gripping a paper, and she slowly unfolds it, My Dearest, Melinda,  My heart aches to leave you, but the king needs me and my men, and I must protect our hidden magical island. I swear on my love for you that this is the last war I will help this foolish king fight. When I return, together we will play music and hide the island and its people forever. Watch the shoreline, my love, when you see the mast of my ship, play your violin, and I’ll know that I am home. Don't give up on me, my muse. I will return. Ever yours. Edward "Well, he has a flair for the dramatics, doesn't he?" she chuckles, but the sound is hollow; She had a drawer full of Eddie's silly love notes in her vanity, he used to tape them to her mirror so she’d find them when she got ready for her day, hours after his started. The note rushes her pushed away feelings to the surface.  This man truly loved his muse. It felt wrong to take this girl's place. She leans back, and her hand hits a case. It must be this girl's violin. She pulls it onto her lap. "But, what if I didn't get his Melinda skill set?"  She pulls out the violin, her hands tracing over the instrument, trying to unlock the knowledge Melinda has, and to her surprise, her body seems to know how to hold it and how to prepare the bow. “Whoa," her voice soft as she feels the power flow through her. She leaves the rock and walks towards the shore. She sees sails in the distance. "Edward!" Her heart leaps in her chest, and she runs to the shore. She feels the sand cool beneath her and to cold water lap at her feet. "Okay, I can do this for Melinda and Edward, so they can have the next chapters in the love story."  She brings the violin up to her chin and closes her eyes, “Trust yourself," she whispers and starts to play a song. She feels a longing come from her soul. Melinda's longing for Edward mixes with her longing for Eddie; her heart feels as if it has cracked, and emotions pour out into the song. She briefly opens her eyes to find the ship heading towards her. As the ship gets closer, the sand seems to be pulled into the water, and piano keys appear beneath her feet; she feels compelled to dance across them. As she plays the violin, she dances across the keys, surprised at how powerfully her body moves; her dress flows, adding to the magic. The music seems to pull the ship to safety. More instruments join in, and she opens her eyes and sees who must be the people of the island join in.  She's also sure the crew members are playing too. The music swells, and she feels her heart swell with joy and love. The ship runs ashore. People stop playing and race to their loved ones. The beach becomes a crowded, cacophony of music, tears and cheers. She continues to dance through the crowd while playing her violin. Then she hears it, "Melinda! Melinda!" She turns, "Edward!" She lowers her instrument and races to him. She wants to let the instrument fall, but she has a feeling the real Melinda would not approve of such an action. As she gets closer to Edward, he pulls her into a hug, then lifts her off the ground, "My Muse, we won! Our island is safe. We'll have the peace we used to dream of!"  "You won?" She beams at him, "That's amazing!" He sets her down, and someone hands him a flute.  "Are you ready to make our island disappear one more time?" She nods, and together they play a beautiful but haunting song, and slowly the music fades, and the sound of rain builds.  She feels the warmth of her sweater return, slowly the party fades, and her quiet kitchen table welcomes her home. She clicks the last piece of the puzzle into place. “I hope you and Edward find the happiness you deserve, Melinda.” She traces her hand over the woman in the puzzle. She glances over at the photo of her and Eddie she hadn’t taken down, maybe she and Eddie could still find their own happy ending too. She slips her hand into the pockets of her sweater and finds a note,  Mindy, my Axiom, I hate the way we left things, but I can’t delay my leaving. I will await your call. I think we both owe each other an apology. I love you, Mindy. Once I return home, we will fix this, I promise. Call me when you're ready, and I will answer. Don't give up on me, my axiom, I will return to you. Your Constant, Eddie Mindy blinks back tears and reaches for the phone.

“Nora! I have so many notes on this week's reading, may I start?” Violet the Skunk all but yelled as soon as Nora the Owl called the book club to order.  “How can I deny such enthusiasm? Take it away, Violet.”  Violet smiled widely as she opened her notebook. “He Swore He Wouldn't" was such a wonderful story. Watching this man continually give in to love. Oh, I just loved it. And I loved how the author didn’t use names. She let us place ourselves in the story! It was such a unique idea.” “I have to say. It did remind me a little of Braiden and I’s story,” Abigail the Squirrel blushed as she joined the conversation, “He was too shy to ask me out until his friends dared him to. And now look at us, married with 4 littles. It was a little walk down memory lane.” “I personally liked how the author broke it up into three different sections, like little chapters. And how each chapter had some repetition, besides the main idea of him doing something he said he wouldn't, the same flowers from the same shop, the phrase only the best for my girl. I really enjoyed the writing technique in this story,” Jenna the Rabbit added. “Yes, those little callbacks were used very well. I found The Author’s Thoughts at the end of the story were so helpful! Telling you where each story comes from.” Nora flipped to the end of the story quickly, reading the line. “It’s quite fascinating how quickly the line he swore he wouldn’t lead her to think of a romance story.” Abigail said, “I would have thought a villain’s pov with that line.”  “As soon as I read the title, I knew it would be a great love story!” Violet beamed, pressing a hand over her heart. “Of course you did. You think every story is a love story, or should be a love story,” Jenna teased. “But I would have thought it was a betrayal love story.” “I found that this story was more realistic than a fairytale, which was surprising. I assumed all her romance stories would be more fairytale-like based on the idea this was a book about being whimsical and ‘puddle jumping’” Abigail added air quotes as she spoke. “I don’t think the author's intent was for every story to be whimsical. I think it was just short stories that connected her to a childhood hobby. I like that she had a more realistic story.” Jenna explained. “Bernard, you’ve been awfully quiet. Any thoughts to add?” Nora looked over at the senior raccoon. He muttered something, but none of them could hear him. “I’m sorry, Bernard, could you speak up? “I enjoyed it.”  Violet felt like her jaw dropped to the floor, “You did? I thought you hated romance stories?” “I do. But this one reminded me of Beatrice and I. Always thought she was too good for me. But I got the courage one day, and the rest is history. And that's all I'm going to say. Don't need you ladies thinking I'm a softie.” “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Bernard.” Nora offered Bernard a small smile before addressing the rest of the group. “It’s so wonderful to see how we all could find ourselves in this story somewhere. I think the author really tried to connect with her readers. Does anyone else have thoughts to add before we move on to ‘Unwanted Invite?” Nora allowed a few moments of silence to pass before moving on. “Alright then. Who would like to start?” “This one is my favourite out of the two! The forbidden love, the danger of running away, a tea party, it has the makings of a great love story!” Violet placed a hand over her chest and let out a dreamy sigh.  “I liked it up until the end,” Jenna stated. “It felt like a cliff hanger, and I personally like my short stories as one and done, not drawn out. But that’s just my opinion.” “I think I’ll have to disagree with you.” “And why is that, Abigail?" Nora guided the discussion, pleased with how well it was going. “While on its own, it is a complete short story, it leaves space for the author or us as readers to continue building the story. Whereas the first one we read had a defined end, this one had an end, but also a beginning in the end, if that makes sense?” “It does. What a wonderful way to put that, Abby. I believe it shows the author’s range, that not all the stories have to be wrapped up with a bow. Some can be left open for further exploration.” Nora looked around the room, “Violet? You look upset? What’s the matter?” “What if she never goes back? What if the author wrote this amazing story, but never goes back to this world?” “Maybe she doesn’t want to go back. I wouldn’t. This story was not very good.” Bernard cut in. “Any what was it not good Bernard,” Nora sighed as all eyes turned to Bernard. “It was a fairytale. Nothing realistic or thought-provoking about it.” “Here we go again,” Jenn whispered to Abby. Abby covered her mouth to hide the giggle that bubbled up. “So? Why does a good story need to be realistic or thought-provoking?” Violet countered Bernard’s previous statement. “Fairytales teach nothing. They're for children and offer nothing for adults. And this particular story? What was the point? To set up for a story that we’ll never read? It felt more like a prologue than a short story.” “On the contrary! They offer adults a means of escape. A short moment where we can simply exist in a story. And this was a good story! It had a solid plot line, it offered backstory, and it used a cliffhanger, which, if I remember from the last book we read, you liked cliffhangers.” Violet put her hands on her hips and glared at Bernard. Nora let out a small laugh to ease the tension, “Alright, you two. You are both entitled to your opinions. I do agree with Bernard on the point that it did feel like the setup to a much larger story, a story that we very well may never read. But Violet had a good point as well, fairy tales have often been used by adults as a means of escaping from the worries and anxieties that come with being an adult. Now, we have about 10 minutes left. Does anyone have anything else to add?” “Do you think we’ll get a sequel? Or perhaps a full story?” Abby wondered, “I think I’d love a full story.” “I think I’ll side with you on that, Abby. I think I’d read a full story set in this world.” “Neither,” Bernard grumbled. “A second short story, I think. I’m not sure I’d enjoy a full story. I’m afraid it would lose its charm as a full novel.” Violet added with a sideways glance at Bernard. “Hmmm, I think I agree with Violet. The charm is in the short story, I believe. Now, for next week, please have ‘A Love Lost in Time’ and ‘Fictional Love’ read.” Nora waved goodbye to her patrons and sighed a contented sigh as she shut down the little room for another week. Whose the writer? My sister Emily Morris! On top of being my little sister, she is also a mama to two very adorable tiny tornadoes. She loves reading and writing in her spare time.

The sword falls to the ground, and the sound echoes through the lair. "How can it be?" His voice is tight and can barely be heard over the clatter.  She stands tall, her hair like oil hanging at her waist. She’s in a deep red dress he's never seen before, her smile is darker, more sinister and the most genuine he's ever seen. "Oh My Lord, I've always known it was you.” Her laugh fills the lair. *** Gavin lies in bed, his muscles and joints ache; Celestial Tear gave him a workout last night. He hated that, as Wunderkind, he couldn't catch her. She wreaked havoc on his city, and he feels powerless to stop it.  A knock comes at his door, "Gary! Mama sent me to come get you!" he groans. Of course, his mother would send William to wake him. He buries his head in the pillow. "If you don't let me in, I'm gonna come jump on your bed!"  Why his parents decided they needed a second child fifteen years later was beyond him. Remembering the bruises he couldn’t let his little brother see, he rolls out of bed, stuffs pillows under his blankets and moves to the closet, dressing quickly in his matching family attire. Dread fills him as he remembers what today is.  He hears William burst into his room and starts jumping on the bed, laughing like a seven-year-old already overloaded on sugar, and the day's festivities hadn't even started yet. His brother is so hyper that he hasn't even noticed Gavin isn't in bed. He slowly moves towards the bed and scoops up his brother, "I got you!"  "Hey!" William laughs, and Gavin tosses him into the pile of pillows and blankets. They playfully roughhouse for a few minutes, "You win! You win!" William yells, and Gavin helps him stand near the bed. "Let me take a look at you." Gavin adjusts William's outfit, “You look like a lord, Lord William." Gavin ruffles his hair. "Father will be proud of you."  The boys leave Gavin’s quarters and find their mother in the dining room, instructing the staff. She pauses, giving William a welcoming smile, but there is little warmth in her eyes for Gavin, "Well, at least you came down presentable. Nothing can go wrong today-"  Gavin hides his grimace with a softer voice, “Mother, I know. I will fulfill my duty." For a brief moment, he sees her sympathetic smile, which disappears quickly.  The sound of the wheels of their father's chair silences them all. Seeing his father bound to a chair, his guilt ate at him. Every day, he is reminded: if he’d been faster, stronger, bolder, he would not have failed. His father would be able to look him in the eyes.  Both sons wait for their father to take his place at the head of the table. His father rolls in front of them and looks them up and down. "You both have done well. Today is very important for our family." His firm gaze lands on Gavin, "Today is the salvation of our family. It symbolizes reclaiming our place as one of the great houses in this city!" He rolls to his place, and everyone takes their seat.  His mother takes his father's hand. "It took a great deal of promises to secure this agreement. Nothing can go wrong today. We will host a grand gala to announce the engment-." “I get to attend this one, don't I, Father?" Williams interrupts eagerly, not fully grasping the weight of this day, but his father smiles at his young son, something he never did for his oldest. "You do, as long as you behave well.' William beams at his father. Seeing the bond between his father and brother, Gavin wonders, has he ever looked at his father like that?  The family eats with reminders of what today holds and some polite conversation. As the staff begins to clean and the family prepares to meet their important guests. Gavin, despite his exhaustion and pain, helps his mother move and rearrange the meeting room.  Soon it's midmorning, and word rushes through the house, "The Duke is here." Gavin tries to calm his beating heart. William stands next to him, looking at the seven-year-old boy reminds him, why he was doing this. This marriage would bring his family back to their standing; his brother would have his choice of wife or freedom.  He feels his heart slow, just in time, his parents walk in with the Duke, Duchess and their daughter, "And now my sons, this young Lord is William."  William steps forward and bows politely, "Mother, Father, Ladies, Lord."  "Join your governess in the garden, son.'' His mother kneels to look him in the eye, and maybe after lunch, you and your brother can impress our guests with your playing." William nods and rushes out of the garden.  "And this is Gavin, my oldest, and he is eager to meet your daughter, Lady Raven.” Lady Raven steps forward, and Gavin gets a good look at her. Her black hair is up in a tight knot; she wears a dress that matches her mother's, auburn orange, a sharp contrast to the bright blue of his outfit. Is that a sign of what is to come? "Lady Raven, it is a privilege to have you here today." he takes her hand and kisses it.  "Thank you for hosting us today." Her smile is tight, maybe like him, she dreaded this day too.  "I know our parents have taken care of everything and our engagement will begin today, but I had this made for you." He hands her a small box. She slowly opens the box, 'Oh! My! Mother, look at this!" Lady Raven and her mother look at the ring, which he has had his friend, who is both a gem maker and capable of wielding magic, make a swirling stone of both their family colours and set it in a gold band. "It's beautiful, thank you, Lorbnd Gavin. I regret I have no gift for you."  Gavin tries to hide his shock; it wasn't customary for a bride to bring gifts for the groom. Especially when his family was arguably lower than hers, since his father's accident. Her father seems equally as shocked by her statement and shoots her a look. Maybe he and Lady Raven had more in common than he thought. "Thank you, Lord Gavin, your gift is most generous. I'm sure the celebration will be grand tonight." The man almost looks proud of him; could he and his father-in-law have more in common than he does with his own father?  "We are looking forward to hosting the Grand Gala to celebrate. First, the staff has prepared lunch." His mother leads them to the dining room, and the next few hours are full of polite conversation, and Gavin has to admit, Lady Raven is lovely, both in appearance and mind. He could see them being very good friends, maybe finding a true love match. After sharing talents and being impressed by Lady Raven's poetic skills, the families parted ways to get ready for the gala.  At the gala, his father's voice echoed through the hall, "As many of you know, for years my wife and I opened our galas with the first dance. After my accident, my eldest son took my place. Tonight, I pass the tradition on to my son and his betrothed, Lady Raven, Daughter of the duke." The crowd cheers.  Gavin hears comments that the Lord has got his status back. Gavin ignored them and focused on Lady Raven. "You are a lovely dancer, my lady."  She blushes," Well, I'd hope so. My mother's only has had me in lessons since I could walk." She giggles, and oh, did Gavin love the sound; he wanted to hear it all the time. They danced the night away, and he couldn't have complained if he tried. *** Celestial Tear raced through the city, leaping from building to building with such ease that the villagers thought she could fly. Wonderkind follows her from below; she always finds it funny that he acts like a traditional knight. In fairness, his magical sword did lend to that. "Celestial! Can't we put an end to this? He calls up to her.  "Ha! And rot in prison for the rest of my days? No, thank you! I will continue to uproot the rich in this land and ruin the lives of those whom they believe are beneath them.” She sneers.  How could he claim to be the hero when he only helped the rich? She’s a hero among the villagers. As much as she enjoys the battle of wits, she has to wrap this up quickly; she has a wedding to attend tomorrow.  "You harm the villagers by harming their landowners!" He calls out.  That is the last straw. She prepares a small blast and hits one of the small upscale boutiques. She loves the rush of the magic leaving her hand. The boutique makes a small explosion, the blast giving her just enough time to escape. The next morning dawns bright and clear, “What a glorious day to get married.” Raven hums as she and her maids get ready for the day.  "Won't Lord Gavin be surprised tonight when he sees how long your hair is?" One of the girls chuckles as she pins it up with pearl bead pins.  "I suppose he might." Ravens face tings pink.  The wedding is soulless, but as romantic as a marriage between strangers can be. They say their vows, drink bitter wine from a shared cup, and as the day went on, dealt with comments about their wedding night from upperclassmen who were barely more than strangers.  She had to admit seeing her father-in-law in that chair did make her feel a bit guilty, but then he hadn't changed after that; her marriage to his son had proved it. But maybe Gavin was different. Would he help her change the tides? Would he see the lower classes differently? Would he help her cause?  That night in the candlelight of their quarters, Gavin slowly pulls the pins out of her hair, and it cascades down her back, "Beautiful." His voice catches in his throat. She slowly and somewhat clumsily undoes his shirt. She stops. He has bruises, bruises that would match the kind Wonderkind should have? Had she been fighting him for the last five years?  She steps back. He looks at her and raises an eyebrow, "What's wro-" he looks down. "Oh, those." He pulls the shirt back around himself. "Tavern brawl from the night out with the boys." He shrugs.  How often had he, like her, gotten too comfortable lying? What kind of marriage would that be?  Over the next few months of their marriage, Raven realizes her hope had been ill-placed. Gavin proved far worse than her father; he insists on being called Lord by everyone, even her. He spoke down to her, as if she isn’t the daughter of a duke. It is to her benefit that he is her rival, for he could not demand answers for her disappearances without revealing his. What made matters worse for her is that he seemed determined to have her fall in love with him.  He did every­thing but listen to her. When she brings up her ideas for sponsoring schools for girls or providing aid for the food programs in the village, he scoffs, "Wife, we have better use of our funds than throwing it away for those who choose to live in squalor.” Oh, that made her blood boil. How dare he speak to her or anyone else in such a way? She plays his dotting wife during the day, and at night she targets his favourite taverns, shops and anything else she can think of. After a year, she decides it's time to lay the trap. *** Wunderkind stares at the map Celestial Tear dropped. Does she want a truce? Is it on purpose? Regardless, if it meant defeating her in any way, it would be worth the risk.  A few days later, he stands at the door of the lair. He slowly enters, and its halls are too quiet, like she’s expecting him. He rounds the corner and sees her. Celestial Tear, but she's not in her costume. His sword clatters to the ground, "No! It can't be.” Her laugh echoes through to the lair," Oh my dear Wonderkind, shocked to learn your little wife is the villain you've been fighting for years? Shocked to learn the woman who has spent the last year begging you to change and not focus on the rich is the villain you can't stop?" Her words stung like venom.  He'd never feared powers before. "You know, I might have loved you, given this up for you. " She let the ring he bought her fall and roll to his feet, as if it meant nothing. "But you see, you will always be at the beck and call of the rich, and I will always stand for the people."  He watches her load up a blast, "Don't worry, I won't kill you, but when you wake up, you won't remember your sword, Wonderkind, or Celestial Tear. You'll just be Lord Gavin, married to Lady Raven. The rest is up to you." "Wait! Wait!” The blast is all-consuming, and he has to shut his eyes. When he opens them again, he and Lady Raven are in their shared bed, the sun warming the room. He shakes her awake., "Raven, I just had the strangest dream." She rolls over and allows him to pull her close, running her hands through his hair. His heart rate slows, “Tell me everything, husband.” Her voice is like honey, and it chases away the lingering unease from the dream. He melts around her, and he can't help but notice her smile and eyes, brighter than they have in months. Maybe love was in the air after all.

Nora the Owl smiled as she placed the crockpot full of hot chocolate on the table. She looked over the table and did her mental checklist. Coffee, check. Hot chocolate, check. Cups, check., Napkin, check. All that was missing was the tray of goodies. But it was Bernard the Raccoon’s week to bring them, which meant they were in for a real treat. No one made desserts as good as Bernard’s wife, Beatrice. Nora looked around the little room where she ran the book club. She hadn’t made many changes to the room over the years she’d worked at the library. She liked it the way it was, a nice hardwood floor and soft blue coloured walls. She always sets out six chairs, four for her regulars and two just in case, you never know who might want to join.  She walked back to her desk and grabbed two extra copies of the book for the fall and winter months, “Through the Puddles.” It had been Violet the Skunk’s idea, and everyone but Bernard had agreed to it.  “Hello, Nora!” Abigail the Squirrel smiled as she walked in. As a mother of four, Abigail was almost always early. Book club was her one escape, she often joked. “Hi, Abby. You're 10 minutes early. I’m not quite set up.” “Oh, that’s okay, Nora. I’ll just go look at some kids' books. Tommy wanted some new ones anyway.” Nora nodded, and she went back to the book club room to finish setting up.  Eight minutes later, Violet and Jenna the Rabbit walked in. Violet was the newest addition to their club. She had just finished her schooling to become a teacher and had moved back home this summer, and got a job at their local elementary school. Jenna, an empty nester who had once had a full nest when Nora started this book club, had been attending book club since day one and was one of Nora’s closest friends.  “Welcome, please grab a drink, Bernard should be here soon with our goodies.” “Here I am. No need to get impatient.” Bernard muttered as he walked in with a tray of snickerdoodles. He set them on the table, grabbed his coffee and sat down.  “Not even going to enjoy a snickerdoodle?” Abby teased, walking in with a stack of kids' books. “Bah, Beatrice is on my case about watching my health. No goodies for me.” Bernard sulked as he took a sip of coffee. “We won’t tell her,” Jenna winked at Bernard, handing him a cookie. Bernard offered a small smile before accepting the cookie.  Nora waited until everyone had found their seats. “I assume everyone read the intro, Jump Together?” Everyone nodded. “Excellent, well, let’s jump in, shall we?” Nora giggled at her own pun, while a few others, namely Bernard, rolled their eyes. “Oh, I just loved it so much!” Violet exclaimed while jumping in her seat. “It was the perfect intro. I loved how the author used a short story to explain what the book was about!” “Yes, it was rather unusual, but I do feel it fit what the author was trying to convey what her book is about,” Jenna added. “Too whimsical if you ask me,” Bernard jumped in. “ You need  a book full of substance, not whimsy la-dee-da nonsense.” Nora suppressed the eye roll she felt coming on. “I still say we needed a good, solid historical book. One that gets you thinking and reflecting.”  “No one is forcing you to be here, Bernard,” Jenna spoke gently, “if you don’t like the book, you can go home.” “You know I can’t leave. Beatrice has her quilting circle tonight, and my critiques of the quilts aren’t appreciated.” “Are they really critiques? Or are they more like judgmental comments?” Violet levelled a glare at Bernard. Bernard glared right back, but said nothing in defence.  Nora smiled at the antics of the oldest and youngest before cutting in.“Perhaps a perspective shift is in order. Bernard, you say there is no thinking and reflecting in this book, but perhaps that’s what it’s all about? Reflecting on childhood wonder and excitement, and thinking about how we can recapture it. Isn’t that what this intro was all about? Taking a break from the worries of life and picking up a childhood hobby?” “I say it was a nice break from the mental load I carry,” Abby sighed, “Being a mom, always having to look out for my kids, helping them with homework, laundry, cooking. I just don’t have time for myself. I personally love the idea of trying to recapture some of the whimsiness of childhood.” “I agree with Abby,” Violet cut in. “Life is always about moving to the next thing: go to school, find a job, make money, get married, raise kids. There’s not a lot of time for fun. Maybe what the world needs is for all of us to find our inner child and let them out every once and a while.” “Bah, back in my day, we worked hard to provide, even as kids! There was no whimsy to be had.” “Then perhaps,  this book is your chance to find whimsy now.” Jenna gently suggested to Bernard. “Wouldn’t it be fun to not worry about everything and just kick back and enjoy a fun short story every now and then? I believe the author's intent was for all of us to release our inner child.  I did that this week! I pulled out my old paints and started painting again.” “Oh! That’s wonderful, Jenna!”  “Yes, it is, Abby. I think this book is what we all need right now.” “What a wonderful sentiment, Jenna.” Nora pulled the group back in. “Does anyone else have thoughts on the intro?” Nora listened as the group carried on for another hour before ending the meeting. “Alright for next time, let’s read the first two short stories in the Romance Section.” “ROMANCE! No one told me we would be reading romance stories! What have you ladies pulled me into?” Bernard huffed and glared at them. “Bernard, did you actually do any research on this book like I suggested before we picked it?” Nora asked. Bernard huffed and sank further into his seat. “I’ll take that as a no. For next week, have “He Swore He Wouldn’t and Unwanted Invite” read.” Nora grinned as the group ended and everyone packed up.  “Have a good week, Nora!” Violet smiled as she left, along with Abby. “Need any help with clean up?” Bernard asked as he covered the leftover snickerdoodles. “Oh, no, thank you, Bernard. I think I’ve got it covered, but I do hope you can enjoy some of the stories in the book.” Bernard offered her a nod as he headed out.  “I’ll see you Thursday for paint night. I decided to join the program!” Jenna hugged Nora. “I look forward to it!” Nora locked the door and waved goodbye to Jenna. She had a good feeling about this book. Whose the writer? My sister Emily Morris! On top of being my little sister, she is also a mama to two very adorable tiny tornadoes. She loves reading and writing in her spare time.