Once Upon A Christmas Wish: Seeing Ghosts

I opened my eyes and looked at Phoebe. “Feel better?” I asked.

The eight year old nodded then reached out and hugged me. “I’m sorry you didn’t get your wish.” She said. “Whoever is in charge of Christmas wishes was wrong when he didn’t give you yours.”

I hugged her back. “If I had gotten my wish you might not be getting yours.” I whispered into Phoebe’s ear. “I’d much rather see you get your wish.”

She whispered back. “I think we’re both going to love my wish.”

Returning to our original positions we hugged pillows, chatting like girlfriends.

“How many days do we have left before Christmas?” I asked.

Time was spent calculating the answer on fingers, a calendar was checked to verify her answer as well. It was determined there were seven days left. I was a little over two-thirds of the way done with the book. If I remained diligent I could join Lisa and Phoebe’s Christmas movie fest on the final five nights before Christmas and visit the ice rink at least once as well. The timeline would be tight, but I’d find a way to manage.

Phoebe and I were discussing where to put the Christmas Wish ornament when Lisa knocked on the door frame.

“Phone for you.”

“Who is it?”

“Malika? She has a question about Christmas movies.”

“She probably forgot about watching A Christmas Story again. She always forgets that one. She forgets and watches it after Home Alone. Everyone knows A Christmas Story comes before Home Alone.” Phoebe released a tired sigh before leaving the room.

“Did you know that?” I asked Lisa.

Lisa rolled her eyes the way Phoebe does on a regular basis. “Everyone knows that.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It’s a good thing you have Phoebe here or else your Christmas would suck.”

“It is a good thing Phoebe's here.” I agreed laughing.

“Did you two have a chance to talk about the ornament?”

“We did. I am surprised you’re allowing her to use it. She found my old wish and asked about it, after I told her what had happened she became worried her wish might not come true.”

“What did you do?” Lisa asked.

“What any good aunt would do, I took the power from my wish and added it to Phoebe’s. Hopefully things will come out in her favor.”

“Since you gave her wish the energy from your wish you don’t have to keep writing your story to remove the writer’s block. Do you?”

I shook my head. “I already decided that I’m going to finish the book. Writing it has been therapeutic.”

Lisa grew silent.

“That wish you made, years ago, why did you make it?” She asked.

I looked at Lisa.

“The reason I’m asking is it doesn’t really seem like something you would do, making wishes.”

“What I wished for was very important. I was desperate for it to come true.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

My stomach caught and it took a moment before I could respond. “Yes. I think it’s time to tell someone why I made the wish I made. How I got to that point.” I said.

Then I did something that turned out to be much harder than it looked. I told Lisa about my mother’s request. A wish made in her final hours of life and the promise I made to her.

Her words came back to me as clearly as they sounded when she spoke them. “I only had your father for a slip of time. There was you. I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

“Spending twenty years without someone special in your life has been lonely in other ways.” I remember saying. I felt like I understood where she was coming from, I remembered all those weekends as I grew older. I did things with friends while she caught up on paperwork, cleaned up the apartment or ran errands. Alone.

“Promise me Jess that you’ll find someone. Someone who loves you. Someone who’s worthy of all that you are.”

“Her dying wish.” Lisa said.

“As soon as everything that had to be done right away was handled I took a few months and just focused on the basics. When the numbness and the shock of her passing began to ease I worked towards fulfilling my promise.”

She looked at me with that “why are you alone?” face. Lisa tried to correct her unguarded expression but she had already made the face. It was too late. “There are a lot of jerks out there.” She said.

“There are.” I agreed. “And I met one or two. There were some nice men too. I remember one I went out with a few times, he was nice but there was always this thing hanging in the air between us. At first, I wondered if he didn’t know what he wanted. Later, I wondered if he wanted me to tell him what he was supposed to do.”

“That’s a Schrodinger.” Phoebe said entering the room. “For them a relationship is like Schrodinger’s cat. The relationship may be alive or dead. As long as they never open the box they never have to know for sure. Of course the problem is it could be alive but it’s starving to death because they never opened the box.”

It was my turn to make a face. I looked at Lisa.

She mouthed the words, “The Big Bang Theory.”

“Eventually I came to the conclusion I was tired of going on increasingly uncomfortable dates. I quit seeing him. As time passed there were fewer and fewer men that caught my interest and fewer were interested in me.”

“Phoebe honey, would you get the den ready for the movie please?” Lisa asked.

“If you want me to leave the room just say so.” Phoebe said rolling her eyes before exiting.

“Thank you sweetie.” Lisa called after her.

“Meeting someone was a constant pursuit for several years. I made my mother a promise and failed. I became desperate. So I made the wish and silently begged it come true.”

“It didn’t.”

“By then I had started writing. I decided if I couldn’t write my own happy ending I would…”

“…write happy endings for other people.”

“It sounds a bit pathetic doesn’t it?” I asked.

“You remind all of us that love still exists. It’s out there. No one should give up hope they are going to find it because someday they will. I’m glad you do it. I’m proud to know you Jess and I don’t think you failed your mother. I think it just took you a little longer.” She said giving me a reassuring smile.

“I’m almost forty and I’m still single.”

“Not much longer, I think. There’s a certain gentleman who is always interested in you and your pursuits.”

I shook my head. “There’s no one.”

Lisa raised her brow.

“Not McKinley.”

“Why not McKinley?”

“He’s rude, arrogant, pushy. He’s positively anal about that generator, possibly any piece of machinery, he lives in the mountains and bribes children to do his bidding.”

“You like the mountains.”

“I do. Not enough to live with that. Besides, I’m not his type.”

“When we were in the kitchen cleaning up he kept going on about how surprising you were.”

I shook my head. “I think you’re wrong on this one.”

“The next time you two are together, pay attention. Use your Romance Writer Sense and think about how you would write what happens if you were describing it in a book. If you were to sit down and write things out I think you might be surprised.”

I shook my head, the corners of my mouth turning up. A small chuckle bubbled up. “Go spend time with your daughter. I have writing that needs to be done.”

Lisa headed out of the room, I heard something shift as I reached behind me for a notebook and a pen. I turned my head to find her looking at me. “You really didn’t fail your mother when things didn’t work out the way she hoped they would for you. Please find a way to acknowledge that you did everything you could and try to make peace with it. You’re going to find love, it’s going to show up when you least expect it.”

I had to chuckle again. Her final words were from my latest book, verbatim. “I think I may have read that somewhere. It might have been in a book. Possibly my book.” I said looking at her.

Lisa’s smile grew wide.

“Thank you. I need to write.” I waved in the direction of the door. “Please go.”

I got a surprising amount of work done that evening and the next morning. By the time lunch had come and gone the roads had opened up enough for the rental to be returned to the house. It was now parked in the driveway. Lisa and Phoebe were at a snowboarding lesson at the local ski resort thanks to McKinley volunteering to drive them. By two pm I found myself proud of my accomplishment as well as in need of a break. My mind felt like mush, my emotions were raw from their work out as well. Bundling up, I took off across the snow covered yard heading in the general direction of the nearest wooded area. I found myself and my thoughts wandering. I reached out as I walked among the trees moving branches as needed. As I wandered, my mind wandered as well, returning to my conversation with Lisa the night before. Specifically her comments regarding my failure to keep my promise to my mother.

How does one make peace with his or her failures?

I pulled a dying leaf from a branch and looked at it. What was now brown and brittle had been soft and green in the past. The leaf was at the end of its journey. Its time had ended. I continued walking, finding a small piece of a pine branch as well as a pine cone half buried in the snow. I kept walking until I found a flat surface. Laying the dry leaf down I said, “This is to make peace with my past and all of those things left undone. I’m sorry Mom that I could not do what you asked of me. I tried.” I laid the pine branch on top of the leaf and said, “This is to embrace the present. I am healthy, I have good friends and I love my work. I have been very lucky. I am grateful for my life.” I sat the pine cone next to it. “These are seeds of hope for the future. I would like to see Phoebe get her wish and watch Lisa enjoy a life beyond her wildest dreams. I would like to come back to this place again some day.” Not knowing what else to say, I continued my walk in silence.

Dinner was in the slow cooker and I was fully immersed in my manuscript when Lisa and Phoebe returned. “Start Me Up” by The Rolling Stones played in the background.

Lisa entered my bedroom with a fresh cup of coffee. “We’re back.” She said as she set it down on the writing desk.

“How’d it go?”

“I was a nervous wreck. Phoebe took to snowboarding like a duck to water.”

“She’s fearless.” I said. “I love it.”

Lisa sat something on the floor next to my chair. “Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yes.” I answered without looking up. “What makes you think I’m not?”

“The music. You usually work in silence.”

“This book isn’t for publication, since it’s a holiday I thought it would be a nice change.”

“Hmm...I didn’t know you listened to this kind of music. Isn’t this from the year you were born?”

“Not the exact year. I was born in ‘84. What’s that?” I asked pointing to the box.

“I brought a box of ornaments from your apartment with me. Phoebe and I were going to surprise you with decorations from home. I found this box in the bottom. It looked personal, I decided to bring it upstairs.”

Closing my laptop, I put it to the side and picked up the box. I sat it down on the table in front of me. The shoe box was old and dusty, the brand name and logo printed on it was one I didn’t recognize. Lifting the lid, I peered inside. I found pictures of me going back to early childhood as well as a newborn photo taken by the hospital along with mine and my mother’s hospital bracelets. The box housed my first tooth and a lock of hair from my first hair cut as well.

“This must have been my mother’s.” I said looking at Lisa.

“What else is in there?”

I continued exploring. “Letters.” I read the name on the return address: E Miller. “It looks like these are letters from my father to my mother.” I found an official looking envelope from the U.S. Army. I opened it. “Notification of my father’s death.” I put the letters to the side and kept digging. I found a man’s wedding band and a high school class ring. Laying in the bottom of the box was a picture of a handsome young man with close cropped dark blonde hair wearing a t-shirt with a Rolling Stones logo on the front. The tongue depicting an American flag. There was a name on the back of the photo: ED.

“I’ve seen that design before.” Lisa said. “It’s from one of The Rolling Stones’ tours of the U.S. What year was it? My neighbor has the same shirt.” She snapped her fingers. “1981. It’s from 1981.”

I took a picture of the photo with my phone and zoomed in on the image. “See anyone familiar?” I asked.

“The man from The Naked Ankle.”

Once Upon A Christmas Wish: After The Storm

 

McKinley didn’t have much to say after that. Who would. After a time, I heard him say, “tired?”

 I must have nodded off because when I opened my eyes he was standing over me. His hand reaching out for my mug which was tilting at a precarious angle. I lowered the handle to level the mug, then relinquished it to him.

“There’s a bedroom at the end of the hall with fresh sheets on the bed. The bathroom is next to it.” He said.

I nodded and stopped mid yawn when I realized what that meant. “What about you?” I asked.

McKinley inclined his head in the direction of the sofa. “You’re on my bed.”

“This is your place. You should take the master bedroom.”

“You’re the guest and this couch is a lot less comfortable at three in the morning.”

“But…”

“Go.” He ordered.

My mind felt like arguing but my body won out. I stood and headed down the hall making a mental note. His habit of ordering me around was going to be addressed ASAP.

Once I was in bed and under the covers, I looked through the window at the snow blowing outside. There was nothing that could be done until the storm had passed. My eyes growing heavy, I surrendered to my need for rest.

McKinley was awake and pulling his boots on when I returned to the front of the cabin.

“Good morning.” I said.

He looked up. “You’re up.”

“Yes.”

“The snow has stopped falling and the skies are clear. I’m going out to take a look around, see if they’ve gotten to the road yet. I made coffee. You’ll need to sit tight. This may take a while.”

“How long?”

“An hour or so.”

“We’re not that far away from where the cars were left.”

“Over two feet of snow has fallen since you went to bed and your vehicle was already covered pretty good by the time I found you.”

I nodded.

“I need to go clean what I can off of the vehicles. How good are you at driving in winter weather?”

“Not very good.”

I’ll go ahead and mark yours for towing. Do you know the plate number?”

“Huh?”

“The license plate number on the rental car? It helps the towing company if I can give Baker a license plate number to go with a description of the car. It takes less time to match the vehicle up with the correct address and owner or, in your case, driver of the vehicle.”

I listened to McKinley talk as I put on my coat and scarf. I was sitting on a chair with boots in hand when I heard him say, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going with you. Things will get done much faster if there are two of us working.”

He shook his head. His hair was still tousled from the night before and bounced as he spoke. “It’s going to be cold out there and hip deep snow is a bitch to walk through.”

“Two and a half feet is not hip deep.”

“Not for me but I’m taller than you are. If you trip on the other hand, you might be swallowed.”

“You may be taller than me but I’m not as short as you think.” I responded irritation rising. “Besides we have a few things to discuss before we get back to the house.”

I followed McKinley through the snow. It was wet and cold, not quite up to my hips but close enough. The man was right about the snow being a bitch to walk through. I wasn’t going to tell him that. He might be even more difficult to get along with if I paid him a compliment.

“What did you want to talk about?” He asked without looking at me.

“What happened to make you hate romance novels...who broke your heart?” I asked abruptly. It was not what I planned, but the words were out nonetheless.

McKinley stopped walking. He looked at me for a few beats then faced forward. “I guess the way I’ve been talking to you I should give you an answer. Some of it at least.” He continued his trek to the cars as he spoke.” A few years ago I had a girlfriend. I loved her. I wanted to marry her and I thought we were happy. She left me because I didn’t know how to be a good partner, I wasn’t romantic. She read those damn romance novels. All the time. She would tell me about some of them, read bits of them to me. Almost all of them had these perfect rich guys in them who did everything right.”

“The kind of men who sweep women away on private jets for romantic dinners and weekend getaways?” I asked.

His only response was an involuntary shrug. “We were practically living together. The last time I saw her she told me she couldn’t spend the rest of her life with a man who didn’t know how to shower his woman with gifts that conveyed the boundlessness of his love.”

“What did you do, after she left?”

“I kept on the way I had been only without her. A few months later I found out Dad was sick. I packed up and came home.”

“You haven’t tried dating again?”

“No.”

I drew my own conclusion, “Since what’s her name isn’t around you blamed the novels she read for what happened and by extension, the novelist.” I looked at McKinley raising a brow.

“Kind of. I know it’s not your fault I’m not good at relationships.”

“What kind of boyfriend were you? Were you obnoxious? Rude?”

He shook his head.

“Were you kind and patient? A caring lover? Did you show up for her? Did you love her even when you didn’t understand her or were you gruff and bossy?”

“I did my best to be the things you mentioned. The gruff and bossy is new.”

A silence grew between us.

“The bossy thing it’s not so good huh.”

“For repelling romance novelists it works great. If you want to attract people to you...not so much. Being a romance writer everyone assumes I know all about love and relationships. I don’t know everything. What I do know is sometimes things don’t work out because people just aren’t a good fit. They can be good people. The attraction can be there, the sex can be there, the love of the same things can be there and they still may not bring out the best in each other. They don’t complement each other. When two people don’t make each other better it’s not meant to be, not in the long run at least.” I continued. “Romance novels are Fantasy. The things men do in romance novels, it’s a fantasy. When you didn’t fit in…”

“Julia.” He said.

“When what you two had wasn’t what Julia wanted for her life she used the novels as an excuse to break up with you. People use stupid excuses to break off relationships all the time. We take those excuses to heart because they broke our hearts.”

McKinley stopped walking and shook his head. “This is what should break your heart.” He said gesturing to our cars. Both vehicles were covered in snow.

“Let’s start with mine.” McKinley said, “I need some things out of the back.”

Twenty minutes later he fished a bag out of the back of his vehicle. Opening it, he retrieved a small shovel and a metal sign with ‘T’ on it crafted from reflective tape. McKinley dug as much snow as he could from around his tires while I removed snow from the windows. He found a mile marker close by and took a picture of it. We repeated the process with my vehicle putting one of the metal signs in the window indicating it needed to be towed before taking a picture of the license plate.

“What’s next?” I asked.

“We close up the cabin and head back to the house.”

Lisa and Phoebe were sitting at the the dining table when we let ourselves in.

“Thank goodness.” Lisa exclaimed as she rose from her chair. “Are you okay? You’re both okay.” She said as she looked each of us over.

“I thought about feeding her to the bears but I figured you’d notice.” McKinley teased.

“Mr. Baker says you’re afraid of bears and Mom would have noticed. She sees everything.” Phoebe announced.

“I have a healthy respect for bears Phoebe a healthy respect. But you’re right I wouldn’t have fed Jess to them.”

“Take off your things. Have a seat. I’ll make some plates.”

“She cooked like she expected you to have lost all of your weight overnight Auntie.” Phoebe said releasing a long suffering sigh.

“It’s how your mother shows us she loves us.” I responded patting Phoebe’s hand. “It’s very good to see you.” I looked at her, cradling my chin in my hand I asked, “What have you been doing?”

“After Mom talked to Mac we talked about what she wanted to cook this morning while we played Monopoly. Then we had movie night and drank cocoa in front of the fire. We went to bed early. What did you do?”

“I drank coffee and talked to your friend over here and went to bed early. This morning we cleaned the snow off the cars, got mine ready for towing and came back here. On a snowmobile.”

“Snowmobile?” Phoebe’s face lit up. “Can I play on it?”

The word ‘no’ crossed Lisa’s lips as she carried two plates in loaded with eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, and sausage gravy.

“What exploded?” I asked, laughing.

“It’s too much isn’t it? Phoebe said it would be too much.”

“It’s how she shows us she loves us.” Phoebe repeated back to me.

“Of course not Lisa. It’s just right.”

“I know I’m famished.” McKinley added.

“I think we’ll save the rest of the pancakes for tomorrow.” Lisa announced.

McKinley stood when he heard the word ‘pancakes.’

I looked at him with my ‘what are you doing?’ face.

“She said there were pancakes. A mountain man needs his pancakes.” He said, jogging into the kitchen.

“You’re not a mountain man, remember?” Phoebe called out.

“That was really good.” McKinley said.

We stood on the back porch next to the entry of the house watching Phoebe as she sat on the parked snowmobile.

“Thank you again, for the rescue.”

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything. That was all Lisa.”

“No, not for the food. The conversation. It's been three years...I never looked at what happened with Julia in the way you did.”

“There are things we tell ourselves to explain why things happen the way they do. Many times, we end up lying to ourselves. Sadly, we can hold on to that lie so tightly that it’s impossible to see the truth.”

“You are some woman Jess Windstrom.”

Something inside me warmed at the sound of McKinley’s words. “Thank you.”

“I hope you have a nice evening.”

“Thank you. We will.”

Phoebe returned to the house and we watched as McKinley started the snowmobile and disappeared into the woods. “Mac says the ice rink has special events all next week. He’ll call when the roads are clear again.”

“That sounds fine.” I gave the girl a smile. “Tell me, what should we do with the rest of the day?”

Phoebe’s eyebrows knitted as her expression grew serious, “Could we talk about something in private?” It’s pretty important.”

I held out my hand to her. “My office is always open to you madam.”

Phoebe pulled something out of her pocket before sitting down on the edge of my bed. She handed me a small ornament shaped Christmas decoration. It was parchment white with the words “Christmas Wish” painted across the front in a festive crimson script.

“You’ve found it.”

She nodded. “I have a special wish this year and I was wondering…”

“...if you could use it?”

“Mom said I should ask you.”

I handed her the ornament. “I would never stand between you and your dreams.”

“How does it work?” She asked, her dark eyes bright with curiosity.

“You take a slip of paper and write down what you want, then fold it up as small as you can.”

Phoebe reached into her pocket and opened her hand. A folded scrap of paper rested in her palm.

“Very good. This ornament opens like a box so all we need to do is open the box tuck your wish in and close it. That’s it.” I worked quickly hoping she wouldn’t see anything.

“There’s already something inside.” Phoebe pointed out.

I opened the ornament. “Well, what do you know? There is.”

“Who’s is it?”

“Mine.” I said. “It is a wish I made many years ago. I think it’s older than you are.”

“You never got it?”

“No but I know any wish made by someone as pure of heart as you are is sure to be granted.”

Phoebe slouched a bit. She did not look reassured. I opened the box and pulled out both of our wishes, I closed my eyes and said, “I, Jess Windstrom, want the power of my wish to attach itself and strengthen the wish of Phoebe Paget. May Phoebe get her wish. May Phoebe get her wish. May Phoebe get her wish.”

Once Upon A Christmas Wish: The Longest Night

 

Things had grown quiet. It was going to be a very long night if we didn’t talk. “How did you know something was wrong?” I asked.

“I was the one who took Lisa and Phoebe home. The first thing Phoebe did when we got inside was run upstairs to your room to tell you about the big snow storm that was coming. By the time Lisa and I reached the house she was standing in the entry waiting to tell us you weren’t home. Lisa’s phone pinged a few seconds later, it was your text message telling her…”

“...telling her I was on my way to pick them up and asking them to stay put.”

“Lisa sent several texts to your phone, I called around and found out you had been in town and stopped by the coffee house. When there was no sign of you after an hour, I came looking for you.”

“Thank you.”

McKinley might have muttered something that sounded like “You’re welcome.” I couldn’t tell.

Having trouble deciding where to go next with the conversation I let things fall silent for a bit, spending time sipping coffee and stealing periodic glances across the room. I found myself playing a game I invented not long after my mother died. On Saturday mornings I would pop into one of my favorite coffee houses and as I enjoyed my rich, highly caloric caffeinated indulgence I would look around the room and try to guess what trope the other patrons might be if they were a character in a romance novel. McKinley was still sitting at the table he made the radio call from. He wouldn’t look at me. Holding a cloth in his hand, he appeared to be cleaning it. The radio didn’t look dirty from my vantage point. 

I thought about the animated charm I had watched him exhibit with other people and the distant rigidness he was exhibiting with me now, all I could come up with was a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing which did not fit the bill. Jekyll/Hyde was a character for horror stories. They aren't my genre. He didn’t fit the grump trope either. 

Grumps tended to be rude and standoffish with most people only warming to one or two not the other way around. Even Mr. Darcy was abrupt in his interactions with people in general not Elizabeth Bennett and only Miss Bennett in particular. A proud, aloof character was a “No” as well.

“What are you thinking about over there?” He asked.

“I find myself wondering why a man who seems to be so sociable and likable with others extends so little of his kindness to me.”

He looked directly at me, “I saved your life. Twice.”

I turned my attention back to my mug and its contents. “King Kong saved a life too but poor Fay Wray had no idea what was happening to her. It was terrifying to her as well as everyone who witnessed it.”

“Ann Darrow.” He responded.

“What?”

“Fay Wray played a woman named Ann Darrow in King Kong...the 1933 version.” He said. “Do I terrify you?”

I studied McKinley, he was no longer looking for invisible dust on the radio, he was looking at me. “Not at this moment. But you are rude.”

“Some men aren’t like the ones in romance novels. We’re complicated.”

“Clearly.”

“You seem awfully sensitive about my abruptness. Do I remind you of someone?”

“You pulled me into a house, pushed me across a room, lectured me and not long after that sent children over to my table in a public place to ask ridiculously personal questions. Why would I be sensitive?”

“There was a bear. You’re deflecting.” He said pointing to me.

“Pointing is impolite.”

McKinley paused, I had seen that pause before, he was taking a moment to decide how he wanted to answer. “The questions the children asked you were some of the most frequently asked yet unanswered questions listed on a fan site for your books. I was trying to show you I made an effort to find out more about what you write.”

“Oh.”

“I found them after I made the mistake of asking Mrs. Kroft, the librarian, about your books. She’s a fan. I was given an overview of the series including summaries of each individual book along with commentary on why her favorites are the best in the series. I also had the entirety of what has been posted on Wikipedia about you read to me. To finish our lesson she guided me through two of your fan sites.”

It was difficult not to smile. “That might have been torture for you.”

“It was a morning I will never forget.”

I looked at McKinley as I made a poor attempt not to smile. He continued his story.

“Why you may ask will I never forget my introduction to romance novels? Because Mrs. Kroft won’t let me. She sent me home with a stack of books like this.” He said holding his up his hands. The gap between them reaching from one shoulder to the other.

“I haven’t written that many books.”

McKinley stood up, picked up his coffee mug and sat down on the chair directly opposite. “You aren’t the only romance writer out there. Mrs. Kroft made sure I went home with a wide range of quality romance novels to peruse so I would get an accurate impression of the genre.”

“I don’t know many men who read romance novels on purpose. I might feel a little bit sorry for you.”

“You should. My hobbies and interests don’t extend to romance novels much less what the characters in them are doing. So tell me…” he says as he sits back relaxing into his seat, “...why are the women in these books so deeply focused on finding a boyfriend or a husband or a happily ever after?”

“Because society looks at us like there’s something wrong with us if we aren’t attached to someone. Women are made to feel as if we are defective in some way for not being someone’s plus one.”

“I’m single and I don’t feel that way.” McKinley says.

“It’s different for men. I know it sounds like a cliché but it’s true. Men are given a different timeline. If you wake up twenty years from now with no home, significant other or children the questions will begin coming your way. Trust me." I shifted positions on the couch turning to face him, "My turn to ask a question. Why are children so willing to ask probing questions for a cookie?”

“Cookies are sweet, portable, and easy to hide from Mom. Mothers are the anti-sweet. The trick to getting children to do your bidding is finding children with really strict mothers.” He said.

I shook my head.

“You don’t use forbidden goodies to your advantage? Lisa works for you, isn’t Phoebe around all the time?”

“Phoebe’s around here and there. Lisa and I schedule our meetings while Phoebe’s at school or otherwise occupied as much as possible. Children need their mothers. I do what I can to make it possible for Lisa to be there for Phoebe. I may pay her salary but Lisa doesn’t work for me. She works with me.” I continued talking giving McKinley a bit of background regarding my less traditional working relationship with Lisa. “The first time I met Lisa Paget she was dressed impeccably, had an impressive academic record and a solid CV. She was also pale, had dark circles under her eyes, and was so nervous her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.”

“Lisa?”

“Yes. I could tell something was wrong...it turned out she had not eaten for a day or two. Her boyfriend left suddenly. She was without a job and had just given birth to Phoebe the week before. I invited her to take a minute before our interview started while she was in the restroom I called an associate to run a background check on her. A thorough one. When Lisa returned we had lunch and discussed her CV. I told her that I knew it would be difficult then asked her to do me a favor and promise not to interview with anyone else for 48 hours. I wanted her to go home and enjoy her baby. Within 24 hours the initial background check was done.Once I knew that she had no criminal record or record of any substance abuse I had a courier drop a check by her apartment that I hoped would cover her expenses for the next two months along with a contract for employment with one stipulation.”

“Being?”

“The start date would not be for eight weeks. I wanted Lisa to have the six weeks anyone would have while on maternity leave to bond with her baby along with a couple of extra weeks to make up for the time lost due to the undue stress of Phoebe’s father leaving them.”

 “That seems like a lot to give someone you barely know.”

I took another sip of my coffee. “I was raised by a single mother. We missed a lot of special moments because she was working. Besides, we all need help sometimes. Some days we need more help than others. Having Lisa’s assistance over the years, having her and Phoebe in my life has given me much more than I gave her on that day. Many times over.”

“They’ve kept you from feeling alone.” He said.

“Something like that.”

Once Upon A Christmas Wish: The Ax Murderer's Missing ID

The emotionally draining day of writing and the excitement of the storm must have caught up with me. I found my thoughts drifting. I was not asleep but not fully awake either. My mind wandered over the events of the last couple of weeks, from the end of the book tour and odd remarks from strangers to my creativity coming to a standstill.

“My mother would be disappointed.” I whispered.

Who was the man who spoke those words in the bookstore? How did he know my mother? There was something about his eyes. The tone of his voice felt oddly familiar. Like once upon a time, before I was old enough to memorize anything specific that voice or one like it was there. I decided it was time to call the agency I used from time to time not to do the fact checking on agents, lawyers, and publicists that I have requested in the past. It was time to do something I told myself I would never do. Run a background check on family. More specifically my mother. It was time to find out who the man in the Rolling Stones t-shirt was and what he meant to her.

That line of thinking was where I was as I nodded off. It led me to memories of her. They became so vivid eventually I heard her voice telling me to wake up it was time to go to school. When I did not move the voice became louder. There was a big thump, I jumped at the sound. When I opened my eyes, I was back in the rented SUV stuck in a snow storm looking up at a shadowy figure standing on the other side of the car window.

“Wake Up!” The figure said as it banged on the outside of the door. It made a gesture with its hand moving it in a downward circle. “Roll down the window!” It yelled.

I turned the key still sitting in the ignition and opened the window just enough to hear the person.

“Get out of the vehicle and come with me.” I heard a man’s voice command.

“What?”

“Get out of the vehicle and come with me.” He repeated.

I shook my head. “How do I know you’re not up to no good? What if you’re an ax murderer?”

“Really?” He asked. “How many ax murderers do you think go running around in weather like this? They may have issues but they aren’t stupid.”

“Criminals aren’t usually very bright.”

“Some of them don’t get caught until there are twelve bodies buried in their backyard. The fact that it takes a while to be found out is a sign of some intelligence.”

A feeling of concern began to churn in my stomach after that comment. “Who are you?” I asked.

“I’d show you my ID but my ax murderer identification is in my other wallet.” The man said as he pulled down the scarf covering the bottom half of his face.

“McKinley?”

“The one and only. You okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your engine wasn’t running which means you have no heat. Can you still feel your hands? What about your toes?”

I did a quick check, moving everything. “My hands are fine. I can feel my feet but they’re cold.”

“Let’s go.” He said.

I put the window back up and opened the door as I turned off the engine and got out of the SUV.

“Come on.” He said as he took off through the snow. He was headed towards a thick standing of trees.

“Where are we going?” I asked, taking bigger steps in an effort to keep up.

“Shelter. Baker said you left town a while ago. I need to get you out of the elements and check your feet for signs of frost bite.”

I reached out for McKinley’s arm, gesturing for him to stop. “I told you they’re just cold. If you could just drive me back to the house, Lisa can bring me back to pick up the SUV in a couple of days.”

“A foot and a half of snow has fallen in the last few hours and the wind chill is dropping as we speak. This was just the warm up. More is coming.”

“You’re a mountain man. You know how to navigate this.” I pressed.

I really didn’t want to be alone with McKinley for God knows how long.

“Let’s say I did get you back home and your toes didn’t fall off when you took your boots off, you have no idea where you are. You’d never find the car.” He continued. “It’s going to be two days before the people who absolutely have to be out on the road venture out. This is the portion of the storm where we take shelter and let the road crews do their job. Let’s go.” He turned back towards the trees and continued walking.

I looked at the darkness surrounding me as snow started to fall. I watched McKinley as he continued walking away. He was right, I was lost. As much as I hated it he was my best chance at getting through this storm with all of my appendages in tact. I called out, “Do you mind!” as he entered the woods, coming as close to running to catch up as I could before he disappeared into the darkness completely.

“I don’t understand why you insist on looking. I told you my feet are fine.” I said.

McKinley had led me to a small cabin in a standing of trees located in the middle of who knows where we were. He pointed to a couch and a blanket sitting in front of a fireplace. I removed my outerwear just inside the entry before settling on to the couch to warm myself while he built a fire. He disappeared for a bit before returning with coffee for two. I was enjoying the warm beverage as it traveled down my throat and warmed my stomach until someone, I really don’t need to name names at this point, reached under the blanket and pulled out a foot. I held back the urge to make an annoyed comment while he removed my sock and studied it.

“No frost bite.” He announced trading one foot for the other. “The other one is okay too.”

“I told you they were fine. Go over there.” I said, gesturing to a spot on the other side of the room with my head. “Check your own feet.”

“Don’t need to.” He said. “I’m wearing heated socks.” McKinley poured himself a mug of coffee and went to the other side of the room. Placing his mug on an old table, he removed a ham radio from a shelf.

I ignored him for a while, doing my best to relax. I found myself attempting to reconcile the bossy, gruff McKinley I seemed to be regularly encountering with the happy smiling Mac everyone else appeared to know. The words “patch me through,” pulled me from my mental gymnastics.

It sounded like he was talking to Mr. Baker and then a Mrs. Baker; I heard a familiar voice say “Mac?,” it was Lisa. She was using her, ‘I’m a tough independent woman and I can handle this’ voice. The one she used for business emergencies and unexpected calls from Phoebe’s school. She was worried.

“Yep. I found Ms. Windstrom. She’s not hurt or injured. She’s with me and she’s safe.”

“Thank God. Did she say what happened?”

McKinley looked at me.

I mouthed the word “Lost.”

“She got turned around in the storm and couldn’t find her way back to the main road.”

“But she’s okay?”

He looked at me again.

I made the okay sign with my hand.

“She’s okay. I can get her back to the house in the morning after the second wave of snow has come through. We’ll pick up the cars in a couple of days.”

“What time in the morning?”

“About 10:30, you might want to have some food waiting. She’s going to be hungry.”

“Okay.” Lisa was still using her worried voice.

“You can relax Lisa, she’s safe now.”

The next voice I heard was Phoebe’s. “Thank you Mac.”

“You’re welcome kiddo. See you tomorrow, McKinley out.”

I was going to be stuck here all night with Mr. Personality. What fun. I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my spinal cord.

Once Upon A Christmas Wish: The Hard Things

“Is there something I need to know?” Lisa asked.

“I’m not sure now is the right time to discuss it.”

Lisa reached into her purse. “I know what it is a good time for. One of those dark chocolate mint brownies. Would you go get three please?” She asked Phoebe handing her some money. “Thank you Sweetie.”

Lisa pounced the moment we were alone. “Spill.”

“I don’t like him.” I said.

“Seriously? Mac is one of the nicest men I’ve ever spoken to.”

“Of course he’s nice to you. All men are. You’re gorgeous.”

“You’re beautiful too and a successful novelist to boot.”

I looked over at the counter to make sure Phoebe was still waiting in line. “I have found him to be rude, bossy, and obnoxious.”

Lisa looked confused.

“Mr. McKinley or Mac, as you call him, showed up the morning after I arrived, physically pulled me into the house without identifying himself and proceeded to steamroll me with orders on how to live in the wild. He’s a dick.”

Lisa burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“That’s it? That’s why you don’t like him, a bad first impression?”

I shook my head. “When I tried to smooth things over by introducing myself more formally he did it again. Judging me when I told him I write romance novels for a living, accusing me of giving women ridiculous ideas of what to expect in a healthy relationship before he’s ever read one of my books.”

“Mac used to volunteer as an EMT. He cared for a man who nearly died, it was an animal attack. Mac shot the bear before it could finish the job. Seeing what a bear could do to a person up close was hard to process, he left the mountain for a while because of it. Mac came back after his father died to help with the family business. When he saw the bear so close to you he reacted without thinking. He’s probably still working through some things.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“It came up when I called about the house. He said it was a family home which he’d recently updated. You know how chatty I can be. The details just kind of came out. He might have shared that information with you if you had talked to him instead of getting mad and dismissing him.”

It was my turn to look confused.

“He mentioned you two got off on the wrong foot when Phoebe and I were in line. Phoebe mentioned we were visiting her Aunt Jess. He asked if I was the woman who called about the house, the conversation took off from there.”

“Okay, provided I decide to forgive him for the manhandling, your explanation does not excuse his comments about the evil doings of romance novelists.”

“Maybe something bad happened that he associates with romance novels in general.” Lisa suggested.

“What could possibly have happened? Did he witness a stack of romance novels attacking someone in the middle of the local library?”

Lisa made a face, she was irritated. “He’s been very kind every time I’ve talked to him. Phoebe has taken to him as well. Since we like him, could you keep an open mind?”

I chose not to respond. I looked in McKinley’s direction. Sure enough, Phoebe was standing in line, talking to McKinley who was sitting on a stool at the counter. He was laughing at something Phoebe said really hard. I looked at the other people around him. They were looking at him and smiling. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Everyone seemed to like him, everyone except me.

“Mac says he’s not a mountain man.” Phoebe announced upon returning with our brownies. “I don’t believe him. Mr. Baker agreed with Mac. He said if Mac is anything he’s a tree hugger.”

“What did you say to that?” I asked.

The eight year old girl shrugged. “I didn’t know anyone could do that for a living. I think Mr. Baker was pulling my leg.”

“How do you know he was pulling your leg?”

“The trees here are too big for anyone to hug. Even a man as big as Mac can’t get his arms around the trunks to hug them. Men.” Phoebe said, a tired sigh escaping before she took a bite of her brownie.

“You’re becoming quite the woman of the world aren’t you?” I asked.

“She’s 8 going on 38.” Lisa looked at her daughter. “Eat your brownie.”

I spent the next morning writing in my bedroom only stopping to go downstairs and eat breakfast. It was Lisa and Phoebe’s day in the kitchen. They insisted and considering where I was with the book I didn’t argue. I offered to do the dishes before returning to work. Writing the final days I spent with my mother was hard. Her pain, knowing what was coming and having no idea what to say. We spent a lot of that time during those long hours in the hospital remembering. Christmases, birthdays, all those precious times that were just ours. I remember the hospital room feeling heavy with the weight of knowing there would not be next Christmases or any more birthdays together. I could not seem to give her enough hugs. I lost count of how many times I said, “I love you.” It was like I was hoping those three words had the power to keep her alive and with me longer.

It was a long, difficult day of writing but I wouldn’t let myself stop until all the words had been written, until I had started another section of the book, one describing the years spent learning how to write. The journey taken while writing the first two novels. The novels I wrote before Lisa and Phoebe came into my life.

I was taking a brief break when I noticed a weather alert on my laptop. A snowstorm that was expected later in the evening was moving faster than initially predicted. Several inches of snow were expected to fall in a matter of a few hours causing white out conditions along with a dangerously low wind chill.

Checking the radar map, I noticed the storm would be moving into the area within the hour. I decided it would be a good idea to go downstairs and make sure Lisa knew what was going on. I also wanted to verify that Phoebe was close by. I opened the bedroom door to find a note taped on the other side.

Phoebe and I are going sledding.

Mr. Baker said the best hills are at the

park. We’ll be back in time for dinner.--Lisa & Phoebe

I went downstairs and looked outside. Lisa’s rental was still in the drive. So was mine. There was no way they could make it back before the storm hit if they were traveling on foot. I went back inside to grab blankets, water, and snacks. I bundled up, grabbing my keys before I left the house.

The snow was already falling hard by the time I reached Lodgepole Falls and found the local park empty. The back-up plan was to drive home as slowly as possible and pick them up on their way back. I decided to stop at the coffee house before leaving town. I wanted to check and see if they had been by before continuing home. Mr. Baker said most people had gone home a while ago. Rides were organized to get anyone who was on foot home safe before the storm arrived. From the tone of his voice I got the impression it was standard protocol. For me, the information was a huge relief. I thanked Mr. Baker, reassuring him I was headed back to the house myself to wait out the storm.

The SUV I rented when I arrived did a great job over terrain that was growing more uneven with each passing minute. Unfortunately, even all wheel drive cannot compensate for the fact that I was not used to driving in a snow storm. The light bouncing off the snow as it fell created a strange surreal effect of being surrounded by this strange silent white tornado (albeit, a slow moving one). I found it difficult discerning exactly what to focus on. I don’t have much trouble driving through rain. But rain is translucent, snow is not.

The GPS stopped working a few minutes after I left town. With the sky darkening quickly, it wasn’t long before I found myself on a road I didn’t recognize. I had no clue as to how to get back to the main road. Pulling the vehicle over, I put the SUV in park. I looked at my surroundings and watched as the snow swirled around outside my windows. I wondered how long I could sit before the storm let up and I could find my way home. I also wondered how much time would pass before someone came looking for me. Pulling the blankets off the back seat, I wrapped them around me before moving the snacks and water to the passenger seat. Turning off the engine, I settled in to wait. It was going to be a long night.