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It took five trips to get my suitcases and groceries inside, but I had no regrets about how many clothes I’d packed. Even if I wasn’t planning on seeing anyone, I was glad I had all the extra layers for the sub-zero weather.
Shrugging off my coat and boots, I brought the groceries to the kitchen, put them away, and then unpacked. I wandered through the rooms, absorbing the quiet that permeated the air.
This was the first day of the rest of my life. The fireplace beckoned with the promise of heat, and the couch called my name, offering me a comfortable place to relax and… do absolutely nothing.
So far, the first day of the rest of my life wasn’t looking too promising.
I settled onto the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket, and let out a contented sigh. My gaze fell on a framed picture on the fireplace mantle—a snapshot of my parents and my big brother Eric.
My brother and I had the same blonde hair as my mother, but neither of us inherited her green eyes. Instead, we both had my father’s blue eyes, which I’d often been told was my best trait.
Despite the chaos of my life, I realized a constant thread of love and support was woven through it. I really had a great family.
Maybe this December wouldn’t be about forcing happiness or living vicariously through holiday movie heroines. Maybe, just maybe, it would be about finding my own version of Christmas magic—no matter how unexpected it might be.
With a newfound determination toget my shit together, I grabbed the remote and scrolled through the list of sappy holiday movies. I finally landed on the perfect one: a big city girl returns to her small town to save her family’s Christmas tree farm. I wanted all the holiday clichés and too-sweet romances.
As the snow continued to fall outside, I hit play on the first movie, allowing the soothing glow of the screen to wash over me.
The movie’s heartwarming storyline played out on the screen, filling the room with a sense of holiday cheer. However, my attention soon wavered as I realized I hadn’t noticed the flickering lamp in the corner of the living room.
With an annoyed huff, I set the remote aside and decided to investigate.
Looking at the cord, I discovered the source of the issue: some sort of animal had taken a liking to gnawing on the wires.
There was good news and bad news to this situation.
The good news was that the animal had likely chewed on the wires before I’d turned it on, so it didn’t get electrocuted. Flashes of that poor cat in theChristmas Vacationmovie flashed through my mind.
The bad news was that the animal might still be in the house.
“Really, nature?” I muttered to myself, half amused and half exasperated.
Suddenly, a scurrying noise from above made me freeze. I glanced up, and my heart skipped a beat—there, perched on a beam near the ceiling, was a squirrel, its beady eyes fixed on me.
As if sensing my unease, the squirrel let out a chittering noise that sounded suspiciously like a challenge. A shiver ran down my spine.
Oh, it’s on, squirrel!
Armed with a determined glare and a broom I grabbed from the kitchen, I cautiously approached the rodent. The squirrel seemed to regard me with a mix of defiance and amusement, its tiny eyes sparkling with mischief.
“You might be cute,” I muttered, holding the broom like a fencing sword, “but I have big plans of wallowing in self-pity, and I can’t have you getting in the way of that.”
The squirrel chattered back at me, as if mocking my broom-wielding bravado. I gave the broom a halfhearted wave, and he leaped to the floor in an acrobatic flourish, as if taunting me.
I glanced around, assessing the situation. My gaze fell on the front door.
Ah, my opportunity!
I approached the door and waved my arm with an exaggerated movement, offering the squirrel a personal invitation to go back outside and enjoy the great outdoors.
He hesitated, his small eyes locking into mine with caution.
With a dramatic flourish, I flung the door wide open. A gust of cold air swept in, ruffling my hair, and making me shiver. I turned to the squirrel, who was skeptically eyeing the open door.
“Your escape route is this way,” I announced with a motion of the broom, directing the adorable rodent toward the door.
The furry creature blinked at me, seemingly unimpressed.
