Page 21 of Saved By Noel
She answers, “Clareeeey, why are you calling me right now?”Oh dear.Mads only calls me “Clarey” with the drawn out “e” when she’s annoyed.
“What’s with the attitude?” I ask.
“Well A of all, it’s supposed to be your day off, so you shouldn’t be calling me during work. B of all, stinking Michael knows I’m your best friend. He keeps coming to ask me all his dumb questions and trying to wriggle his way out of assignments sinceyou’re gone. And C of all, I don’t want to admit that I miss having you at the office,” Madison ticks off.
I smile, grateful for the distraction that is Madison Wheeler. And her mash-up of list phrases.
“I’m calling because this trip is swirling the drain of nightmare territory, and I need your help processing through it,” I tell her.
“Ooo, I love a good processing sesh—lay it on me.”
I fill Madison in on every detail of the past two days, and she interjects with all the appropriate displays of supportive emotion and outrage. “I’m honestly tempted to wave the white flag and come home today. Forget working remotely the rest of the week. What’s the point of being here when my inspirational setting has devolved into gloom?”
Madison scoffs, then says. “Firstly, dramatic much?” I harrumph before she continues. “Secondly, don’t you dare, Clara Jane Sullivan. Just because McGrinchie or the town doesn’t want your help, that doesn’t mean you give up onyourdream. Do you still want to write Christmas movie scripts?”
I sigh. “Of course I do.”
“Do you still love the cabin itself?”
“Well, yes. It’s precisely the cabin in the woods getaway I’d imagined.”
“Do you still love Christmas?”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous, Mads.”
“Answer the question.”
“YES, I still love Christmas!”
“Then stay there and make your Christmas dreams come true, Clara. He-who-does-not-deserve-to-be-named shouldn’t ruin that for you,” Madison finishes decisively. She abruptly ends the call when Michael comes back into her view, throwing herself on the land mine to save me from having to talk to him.
Wrapping my arms around my knees, I mentally survey my options again.
One: Admit defeat and leave, never to return again. Surrender the cabin to the forces of entropy. I’ve invested in a future haven for woodland creatures.
Two: Withdraw to lick my wounds, but return eventually to utilize the cabin as a hermit in solitude.
Three: This is my property, gosh darn it! Claim what’s mine, and make itmine.
My eyes flash with new resolve as I settle on option number three, thanks to Madison’s pep talk.Aunt Gloria didn’t give me this money so I could sink it into a cabin that I never use. Never realize my dreams. A rude, grumpy mayor can’t ruin this place for me. Forget him and his unforgettable eyes.
I stand up and take in my surroundings. Around the perimeter of the cleared yard, there are three pines that have clearly waited their whole lives to be Christmas trees. One particularly adorable one is only three feet high. The others are taller than me, but less than seven feet.
You may not want Christmas, Mayor Scrooge, but you’re not the boss of me.
I immediately head to the grocery store, glad to see Emily at the checkout counter again. I’m even happier when I see a mini Christmas tree on top of the register next to her. Christmas music is playing over the store speakers.Maybe not everyone in this town is as grinch-y as Clark makes out.
I beeline to Emily, even though she’s in the middle of talking to a young woman who looks to be around my age. She has highlighted blond hair, light brown eyes, and the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen.Was she born with those, or is there some miracle eyelash serum I don’t know about?
Emily sees me coming and calls out a greeting. “You’re back! I didn’t even catch your name last time, sugar.”
“Oh, I’m Clara. Clara Sullivan,” I say. “And I’m glad you’re here again—do you work most days?”
“Honey, I work here every day,” Emily laughs. “My husband’s family owns this store. Paul handles all the inventory, stocking, and finances, but I do all the caring about people up front.” Her gaze assesses my face. “Speaking of caring for people, I can’t help but notice your eyes appear to have shed a tear or two recently. Everything okay, Clara?”
Instant heat flames my cheeks. In my zeal to enact my newest plan, I didn’t take time to freshen up my makeup or even glance in the mirror. Here I am, standing by the woman who should be hired forevery singlemascara commercial, and I likely have black smears on my splotchy cheeks.
“Oh, yes, I suppose I . . .” I trail off, floundering for an explanation. Emily and Gorgeous Eyelash Woman gaze at me with such sincere concern, I settle on the truth. “I recently had an unpleasant conversation with the mayor. A couple of unpleasant conversations, to be precise.”
