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“Honey…”
There’s that look. The same look I used to see when I was a kid. But rather than make me back down, I’m redoubling my effort. I’m not going to let a little tainted eggnog ruin my Christmas cheer.
I’m going to Whispering Winds. I’m going to spend Christmas in a gorgeous cabin in the mountains. I’m going to go on all of those festive activities I planned. And I’m going to have a great time doing it, with or without a man.
“Merry Christmas, Mom. I’ll let you know when I get there.”
I call out for Dasher my Dachshund, the bell jingling on his collar as he trots over to me.
“I’ll keep the room open for you, just in case. It’s okay if you change your mind.”
I kneel and pick up Dasher.
“I’ve never been more certain about anything before.”
But as I load up the last of my decorations into my car, I’m not so sure. Am I going to spend Christmas alone?
* * *
As I drivedown the Main Street of Whispering Winds, it feels like I’m entering an entirely new world. Strings of twinkling lights hang between lampposts, each one wrapped in a bright red ribbon to make them look like candy canes. My windows are shut but I can smell cinnamon and clove and hear the faint sound of Christmas music trailing from some unknown location.
Thankfully, the next stop light turns red and I ease onto the breaks. I can hardly breathe as I attempt to take in the overwhelming amount of Christmas spirit around me. There’s not a single storefront that isn’t festive, as though the entire town banded together to create a magical winter wonderland. With fat, fluffy snowflakes falling lazily from the sky, blanketing buildings and cars and making the bright holiday colors pop, I’m almost certain that I’ve stumbled across a real-life Christmas village.
And for the first time since I left, I’m at ease. I know my choice to spend the week leading up to Christmas without my family was the right one. If I can’t find someone as obsessed with Christmas in a town like this, I never will.
I see children—and a few dogs—in elf outfits ambling down the sidewalk. A few of them clutch candy canes while others sip from what I can only assume is the best hot chocolate in the world. My eyes flare when I see an enormous man in a Christmas sweater hauling a tree twice his size over his shoulder and then dropping it into the bed of a truck.
There’s an older, white-haired vendor selling roasted chestnuts on the street corner, and I’m not sure, but I think he might be Santa Claus. He turns, eye twinkling as he taps his nose and winks at me before handing a container to a small child.
A car behind me lays on a horn, yanking me from my trance. But rather than the typical honking sound, the car’s horn has been replaced with a rendition ofJingle Bells. When I look through my rear-view mirror, I see a rickety, old truck driven by a bearded man in a Santa hat carrying a huge haul of Christmas trees.
He hits the horn again andDeckthe Hallsbegins to play.
Rather than dwell on the legality of the horn, I press my foot on the gas and navigate to a nearby parking spot. I pause, staring at the cheerful atmosphere surrounding me. I love Christmas, but this townlovesChristmas.
The drive to Whispering Winds was long and tiring, and I’d planned on heading straight to the cabin to rest, but after experiencing the festive energy of this downtown, I feel rejuvenated.
I need one of those hot chocolates, and I know where to find some.
Windy Brews…
After turning off my car, I wrap my scarf around my neck, glove my hands, and brace myself for the bitter cold. By the time I make it to the coffee shop, my cheeks are as rosy as Rudolph’s nose.
But once I see the Christmas explosion inside Windy Brews, I forget all about my numb cheeks and tingling fingers. And I can’t think of a more fitting song to play at this moment.
Yes, Mr. Crosby—itisbeginning to look a lot like Christmas, and I’m loving every second of it.
“Welcome to Windy Brews,” the barista behind the counter says. “Can I tell you about our holiday drinks?”
You know that giddy feeling before opening your first Christmas present? Or maybe the feeling of watching someone open up theperfectgift you found for them. That’s how I feel right now. I’m so excited that it feels like I’m shaking as I slowly unwind my scarf from around my neck.
“Yes,” I say, nodding my head. “Absolutely, you can.”
“Great,” the elf-eared barista says, her candy-cane earrings jingling. “You’d be surprised how many people decline.”
“A bunch of Scrooges with no Christmas cheer.”
The way she’s staring at me makes me think I’ve found a kindred spirit. “I know, right? Well, you’re in for a treat. We have the best holiday drinks in town.”
