Page 42 of Christmas Charms
The adorable, innocent parade sweetheart onscreen continues describing her perfect Christmas while she waves a candy cane around as if it’s a magic wand. “And there should be cuddly teddy bears, ice skating and a crown shaped like a snowflake!”
My young self gives her tiara a reverent pat as my gaze drops to the bracelet, where a trio of charms rest innocently against my sleeve—a teddy bear, an ice skate and a snowflake crown. I take a deep breath and study the remaining few. The only three left after that are the snowman with the orange enamel nose, the wrapped gift box and the most baffling charm of all: the miniature engagement ring topped with a dainty diamond solitaire.
“Oh! A snowman, too. And dozens of Christmas presents for all the girls and boys,” six-year-old Ashley says, jabbing her candy cane in the air for emphasis. “And a happy-ever-after. That’s the Christmas of my dreams.”
A happy-ever-after, just like a fairy tale.That explains the diamond ring,I think. And then my eyes are swimming with tears, and the images on the television blur like a gentle watercolor painting. I’m gripping Aidan’s hand so hard that my knuckles turn white.
Young Ashley didn’t care about having a glamorous holiday in Paris or a Christmas dripping with rare diamond necklaces. Once upon a time, the Christmas of my dreams was innocent and pure, filled with small miracles and community ties—things I valued most as a little girl, things I’m slowly learning to love again.
Deep down, I don’t think I ever really stopped.
As I furiously attempt to blink back my tears, I realize I understand the bracelet now. I still don’t know a thing about Betty or where she came from or how any of this is possible, but I know without a doubt that the mysterious charms are somehow magical. There’s no more trying to deny it. It doesn’t make sense at all, but I know it’s true. I know it as surely as I know my own name.
My eyes spill over, and I reach to brush a tear from my cheek, but Aidan releases my hand and beats me to it. His fingertips are warm, and his touch is so tender that I don’t think the lump in my throat will ever go away.
I can’t believe I ever said no to this man. Perhaps even more poignant is the realization that I’ve spent my time in Manhattan chasing the wrong things. When I said goodbye to Aidan and Owl Lake, I think I might have said goodbye to myself a little bit too. Or at least, the part of myself that understood what was really important.
The pad of his thumb lingers on my cheek, light as a snowflake. Somewhere in the periphery, I’m aware of my parents tiptoeing out of the room, leaving us alone together. And there’s so much I want to say, so very much, but the words won’t come. I’m spent, and I wouldn’t even know where to start.
How could I possibly explain that I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but the Christmas of my childhood dreams is coming true, one charmed encounter at a time?
Chapter Twelve
“So you’re really not goingback to Manhattan?” Susan grins at me the next morning as she helps me roll a big ball of snow along the ground in front of Enchanting Jewels. “You’re staying in Owl Lake?”
“Not permanently—just for Christmas.” I pause from our efforts to tuck a stray lock of hair back into my pompom hat. It’s been a long time since I’ve made a snowman, and I’ve apparently lost my touch. The ball we’ve just made for the snowman’s midsection is distinctly lopsided.
“But you’re truly staying, with no day trips away, until after the holidays are over. No more trains or rental cars?” Susan packs another handful of snow onto the snowman’s tummy and arches an amused brow. “No more snow chains?”
I jam a twig of an arm into place. “Aidan told you about that?”
“He didn’t have to. I heard all about it from Pete at the auto store—” She lets out a laugh. “—and from Peggy at Mountain Candy, not to mention the ladies who take knitting lessons at the yarn store across the street and pretty much the entire lunch crowd at The Owl’s Nest.”
“Wow, I guess I’ve forgotten what living in a small town is like.”
“Well, youwereboth lying flat on your backs on the sidewalk beneath a clump of mistletoe.” She waggles her eyebrows. “At least, that’s way I heard it went down. That’s a lot of excitement for Owl Lake.”
I’m still not sure what to make of our argument-turned-near-kiss under the mistletoe, so I change the subject back to the matter at hand—the bracelet. “No more snow chains. After seeing that video of myself and realizing that the charms represent my childhood Christmas wishes, I can’t leave. I’m supposed to be here and finish the Christmas of my dreams. I just know it.”
Staying in Owl Lake until the holidays are over effectively means I can kiss my shot at the promotion at Windsor goodbye, but I feel strangely at peace about it. The second I saw my younger self rattle off the list of wishes, one by one, I knew I couldn’t go. Something bigger is happening to me right now than making manager of the charms department, and I’m tired of fighting it. I’m ready to lean all the way in—hence, the snowman.
“Tell me again why we’re doing this.” Susan sticks the opposite twig arm into place and it promptly falls back down onto the snowy ground. I guess I’m not the only one who’s out of practice.
“Because I’m supposed to, obviously. There’s a snowman charm on the bracelet.” I offer her my wrist, and she peels back the cuff of my mitten to inspect the charms.
I called Susan first thing morning and asked if I could meet her before her shift started at the jewelry shop. I simply had to talk to someone about the video and Susan was the logical choice since no one else knows about the magic bracelet. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Aidan about it last night. He never even asked why seeing the home movie reduced me to tears—he simply wove his fingers through my mine and held my hand until the film ended.
I could have sworn I spotted a glimmer of a tear in the corner of his eye at one point, but I couldn’t be sure, and I was afraid to ask. There are still so many things we haven’t talked about and I didn’t want to ruin the magic spell of the charms.
“What’s this?” Susan toys with the engagement ring charm and her grin spreads ear-to-ear. “Maybe you’re going to get engaged during the holidays, after all.”
It’s too bad Maya isn’t here. She and Susan have a lot in common, including their enthusiasm for Christmas proposals—and their obsession with seeing prospects for them around every corner.
“That’s not what it means.” I shake my head. “In the video, I said something about a happy-ever-after. I’m sure the ring is just a symbol for a fairy-tale ending.”
My heart pounds hard beneath my holly-berry-red coat. Despite everything—despite the disastrous dinner with Jeremy in the city, despite Aidan’s initial frosty reaction upon my return to Owl Lake and our complicated history—I still believe in romance. I still believe in happy-ever-afters, and I still think there’s something undeniably magical about a Christmas engagement. I’m just no longer altogether sure who might be best man to slip a ring onto my finger.
“I don’t know, Ash. This whole charm bracelet thing has been full of surprises so far. I wouldn’t rule anything out.” Susan releases my hand, and I tuck the bracelet back beneath the cuff of my mitten.
