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Clarissa stared at her, hearing the words she had uttered herself so often after she walked away from yet another short relationship.
“God, have I become that unfeeling and… and…” Tears formed in her eyes.
“Hmm,” Cathy said as she wiped the wetness from her cheeks. “Since it’s the first time I’ve seen you cry afterward, perhaps there’s hope for you.”
In silent support, Cathy hugged her until she stopped trembling. Then she pushed her toward the bathroom.
“Enough of this pity party. Get dressed. We’re going to have some fun the rest of the day, and tonight will be amazing. I can’t wait for the tasting and judging of the cookies. The bakers have been at it since early this morning already.”
“You’re a judge?”
“Of course, who better than a pregnant woman to appreciate all the effort everyone is making?”
Clarissa laughed. She was amazed at how easily Cathy managed to lift her spirits.
If only she could take away the pain in her heart or the confusion as to why she was in so much torment.
Was it because she had caused a wonderful man disappointment or because, for the first time, she experienced the desire to yield to the demands of her own soul… for love and happiness ever after?
“Not another shop, please, Cathy! I’ve had more than my annual quota already. If I have to go into another one filled to the brim with Christmas decorations and Jingle Bells in the background, I’m going to scream,” Clarissa protested four hours later. “For such a small town, there are way too many shops and people! Where the hell did they all come from? It’s like walking the streets of New York.”
“This is the last one, I promise.”
“It better be. The energy I got from the light lunch we had was expunged long ago.” She checked her watch. “Isn’t it time to meet Samuel at the restaurant for dinner before the evening festivities start? I’m starving.”
“Where has your mind been all day, little sis? Look around you,” Cathy pushed open the shop door. A festive bell tingled above it, announcing their arrival. “It already started this morning. See? The streets are full of vendors who have been selling and playing games all day long.”
“My feet are so sore, nothing registers anymore. Come on, there’s nothing in this shop. Let’s go.”
“Oh, look! Is that a painting of King Ricardo III’s castle?” Cathy asked the sales lady as she dragged Clarissa to the large canvas on a stand under a spotlight.
“Indeed, it is.” The shop assistant approached to stand next to them. Her silvery hair shimmered in the bright downlights. “Do you know the tale about King Ricardo and his gingerbread cookies?”
“Oh, no,” Clarissa moaned as she shifted her weight, desperate to find a seat to rest her feet. How her heavily pregnant sister wasn’t tired and needed a break, she had no idea. “Not another tall tale.”
“Oh, this is no tall tale, Missy. This one is as true as the new dawn every day.”
“Do tell,” Cathy prodded, all too eager to soak in another fairytale.
“The story goes back to the year 1485. King Ricardo III was a very attractive man, and the women fell to his feet with nary a smile from him. So, too, did the daughter of Meranda Willows, a known witch who was loved for her good deeds. Until the king spurned her daughter’s cookies. She was a baker, you see and took pride in her work. Everyone loved whatever she made, and being in a love bubble, she created a cookie, especially for the king.” She smiled conspiratorially. “A gingerbread man cookie. The king hated it. Lilly was devastated and lost all confidence in her baking skills. It didn’t take long for her to lose her mind, and of course, Meranda was furious. She confronted the king, but he scoffed at her, saying he would never lie just to be kind. The cookie looked awful, and it was terribly sweet and gingery. Besides, he had never promised Lilly anything other than a good time.”
“Oh, no,” Cathy said. “How awful for a mother to hear that.”
“That’s why she cursed King Ricardo. He became the gingerbread man, bound to bake a batch of the same cookies Lilly had made for him every year on Christmas Eve. If he failed, he would turn into what flowed inside his veins… the gingerbread man cookie.”
“That’s just nasty. How long did the curse last?”
“Oh, the curse hasn’t been broken yet, Missy.” The woman’s eyes glimmered as she looked at Clarissa. “See, Meranda vowed that until he found true love and the woman could accept him for what he has become over the centuries past and believe him to be the gingerbread man, he will be bound to it. Only true love can break the curse. Of course, it has to happen within the period between Christmas Eve and New Year’s Day. Not a day before or a day after.”
“So, if he doesn’t bake the batch before midnight on Christmas Eve, he turns into a cookie forever, and true love can only find its way to him between Christmas and New Year?” Clarissa shook her head. “As I said, just another fairytale.”
“Only love can unlock what the eyes refuse to see,” the woman said cryptically.
“Wait! Is that King Ricardo III?” Cathy pointed to a figure of a man standing in a tower window of the castle on the painting.
“Yes, that’s him.”
“Oh, my! Clarissa, come see. He looks like Rick’s twin!”
