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Ah, Christmas! My favorite time of the year. Christmas music, Christmas trees, and my beloved hometown of…Christmas. I've been hit with wave after wave of memories ever since I drove past the town's boundaries. This small town in the middle of Michigan state is so full of happy memories, both Christmas-related and otherwise. I can't wait to spend time with my parents and go ice-skating behind Town Hall. My mouth salivates at the thought of having Snow Angel Diner's English-style pudding again—dare I say, thebestpudding in the world!
Jingle bells,
Jingle bells,
Jingle all the way…
I happily hum along to the rest ofJingle Bells,and as the cab turns into Silent Night Drive, I feel my body relax for the first time in a long while. It feelsgreatto be home. When I was a hormonal teenager, I thought everything about this place was super lame—the cheesyChristmas-themedeverything. Street names, buildings,establishments. It was enough to make me want to hate the holiday. And I wasn’t alone. The least cool thing you could do as a teen growing up in Christmas wasactuallylook forward to the holiday. We all tried in vain to dismiss the carols and the joy in the air. But at some point, we all gave in and started humming along wearing our green and red sweaters. But then,that’sthe magic of this place. It can turn the biggest Scrooge into Santa’s little helper without them even realizing. And now, twenty-three-year-old me appreciates every little bit of Christmas magic I can get.
Inching closer to home, I spot my parents' empty driveway and frown with confusion.They knew I'd be back this evening...where did they go?
My stomach rumbles at the prospect of them ducking out to surprise me with my favorite pudding, but then I know that wouldn’t be the case since the last time I ate it, I made myself sick with too much, and Mom swore she’d never buy an entire pudding again.Shut up, tummy—not going to happen. Sadly. A girl can dream, though.
The cab stops in front of the house and looks at me from the rearview mirror. "This the place?"
“Sure is.” The driver comes out to help grab my suitcase from the trunk while I get cash out from my purse. "Thanks for driving me all the way here. Keep the change. Let's call it a holiday bonus," I say with a wink.
"Oh? Thank you very much, miss. You're too kind! Happy Holidays to you." He thanks me with a tip of his hat, gets back into his cab, and as he drives off, I turn to look lovingly at my childhood home. The big pine wreath with its giant red bow is hanging pride of place in the center of the front door. And there are glittering fairy lights all around the eaves. The front walk is lined with the light-up candy canes, and there’s an animatronic Santa and his sleigh with his reindeer waving to passersby from the front yard.
I love that I can count on this display being exactly as it was from year to year. It makes coming home so much more comforting. Especially when most of my time is in a big city that seems to be constantly changing. Why, my favorite coffee shop shut down just last week, and another one popped up in its place within the blink of an eye. I actually thought I was in the wrong place for a moment! But this,this,is exactly as it should be. And I love it.
With a big, happy sigh, I make my way to the house and turn the knob, only to find it locked.That’s strange.Christmas is the kind of town whereno onelocks their door. This day is getting stranger and stranger.
"Yoo-hoooooo!" I call out as I let myself into the darkened house. "Mom? Dad? I'm home!" Silence.Huh. OK, looks like they'rereallynot at home. It's so unlike them to not be here to greet me when they know I'm coming back.
Anxiety creeps along my spine, and I start to regret watching that Christmas-themed horror movie the night before I left New York. I rush around slapping all the lights on in the house just in case.No demon elves lurking in corners—phew!
With that out of the way, I tell my brain to chill because they’ve probably just made a quick trip to the store, and head to my old bedroom.
Walking along the staircase, I can't help but feel a sort of nostalgic bliss as I go over the photos that adorn the wall. I glance over a photo taken on my fourth birthday of Mom crying happy tears while Dad picked me up to blow the candles on my little birthday cake. Itty bitty me, with my dad's deep brown eyes and my mom's raven black hair.
It was always just the three of us. I was a ‘miracle baby’, so they say. My parents had tried to get pregnant for years, and after lots of grief and heartache, I came along and even overstayed my welcome in Mom’s womb for almost two weeks.I felt like an elephant, but every day I get to have with you is a blessing, Mom would cry every time my birthday came around.
I smile to myself as I continue up the stairs, past the photos on the memory wall before I finish up at the picture of me and my parents at graduation. I remember Mom bawled her eyes out when I announced that I landed the internship that would take me straight from college to New York. She was incredibly happy for me because she knew working at that publishing house was my dream, but she also made me promise to never miss a holiday. I crossed my heart and everything.
So, here I am, having had to beg, borrow, and promise my boss a bunch of unpaid overtime to get here and keep that promise, I’m spending ChristmasinChristmas.It’s good to be home.
Making it to my room, I toss my suitcase onto my old bed and lay out some comfy clothes as I hum some more Christmas tunes, stripping out of my smelly traveling clothes and looking forward to a nice hot shower as I wrap myself in the fresh towel Mom left out for me.I can’t wait to wash away the gritty feeling travel gives you, then slip into my cozy sweats, and…ooh, maybe I'll get a fire started and catch up on some reading…and a hot cocoa sounds good right about now too.
I shift from humming Christmas carols to a rendition of The Sound of Music’sMy Favorite Things. I’m just about to belt out the lyrics at the top of my lungs when I hear a,tap, tap, tap.
Sealing my lips, I cease my merriment to listen. But there’s nothing but the beating of my own heart, and my spine tingling as the irrational fear of those demon elves comes back to haunt me.Note to self: Never watch a Christmas horror film again.
Returning to my tune humming, I grab my toiletries bag and continue on my way, opening the door to my bathroom, and…nearly trip over a man who’s crouched on the floor with his head under the sink!
Opening my mouth, I let out a blood-curdling scream as I drop my toiletries bag and almost lose my towel along with it, the darn thing swinging slightly open before I catch it just in time to preserve my dignity. "Who the hell are you? How did you get into the house? Why are you in my bathroom? Get out, you dirty bastard!Help!"
"Calm the heck down,” the man says as he emerges from under the sink, rubbing the back of his dark blond head and wincing. “I'm your next-door neighbor. Your mother—Molly—asked me to come around to fix the leaking sink before you got home. I'm not trying to stalk you. Jesus, woman..."
I extinguish the incoming screams and hold my breath for a moment, staring at him in disbelief, "Well, you didn’t do a very good job because I'm home and you’re still here," I quip, feeling my face flush as I realize how awful I sound right now. I clear my throat and jut my nose in the air. "I got in early."
The stranger continues to rub his head and scoffs. "Yeah? No shit. I can see that." He drops his hand and his eyes slowly roam my towel-wrapped body.Was that a gulp I just saw?What is he even looking at? This rotund thing? No. My mind must be playing tricks. No man looks at me the way he’s looking at me right now. The stranger. In my bathroom. With the soulful green eyes, his neat crewcut hair, that chiseled jawline, and muscular forearms.He can’t be interested in me…
Time seems to slow as our eyes meet, my brown to his green, and a spark goes off within my being.Whoa.
“I—”
“I should go.” He clears his throat, breaks our eye contact, and turns his head away from me. I feel my face flush as I wonder if maybe I just imagined all that. "M-maybe I should come back another time to fix the sink." He gives me a curt nod then shifts around me to leave, refusing to make eye contact.
