Page 15 of Saved By Noel
“I’m not a total invalid!” my dad’s voice yells in the background. My mom prefers to talk on speaker phone 100 percent of the time for reasons that remain a mystery to everyone. “I’m getting pretty good at navigating with the crutches, and your mom can take me to all the physical therapy appointments. You deserve a break, Care-Bear.”
I spin the birthstone ring on my finger as I contemplate the option. My selfish inner voice screams, “YES!” But I’m worried about how well my parents will truly be able to navigate my dad’s limitations without backup.
“Clara, I’m ordering you to go back to Noel,” my mom says in her best drill sergeant voice. “If you attempt to come to our house next week, I will lock you out.”
“I have a key, Mom.”
“I’ll install new locks.”
“Like you’d know how.”
My mom makes apssshtsound. “You need this, Clara. Your dad and I will be fine. We are grown adults, after all. And we have neighbors and friends from church who would be happy to step in and help if I need it. Arrange things with your boss for you to be out of the office and go take some time for yourself.”
I enjoyed a lovely Thanksgiving Day with my parents, relishing the feast I helped Mom prepare. We even managed to continue our traditions of attending the Plaza lighting that night and visiting the giant Christmas tree in Crown Center on Saturday. Of course, my dad’s temporary disabled parking pass helped make those activities much more feasible. It was pretty comical watching him putter around with his little knee scooter.
After spending all day Sunday preparing food for the week so my mom wouldn’t have to worry about cooking, I’m finally making my way back to my cabin. The car fills with the sound of my voice singing along to one of my Christmas playlists on the drive down. I’m thrilled to have an entire week to get settled in and enjoy the Christmas festivities in Noel . . . maybe even reconnect with Clark? I plan to take Monday and Tuesday off, then work remotely the rest of the week.
It’s pitch dark by the time I make it to the outskirts of town at 6:00 p.m.This will be perfect to drive in and see the Christmas lights for the first time!The anticipation sends a rush of adrenaline through me, and I can’t help but grin as I turn onto Main Street.
My grin dies a slow, agonizing death as I idle down the street, searching every which way for signs of Christmas cheer.
There’s nothing.
No festival. No shops. No decorative displays. There’s not a strand of Christmas lights in sight.
There are no other cars around, so I’m not blocking traffic when I stop in the middle of the street. I give my eyes a firm rub, expecting Christmas to magically appear when I open them again.
Nothing.
My heart turns to a drum in my chest, beating with panic or disappointment or rage or all of the above. I pull a sharp left turn into the parking lot in front of Noland’s, the small grocery store, determined to get answers—and food.
Walking through the doors of the small store, I grab a handheld basket and quickly fill it with basic food essentials to get me through the next few days. Confusion and frustration fight against my cheerful disposition as I walk the aisles, heated to a boiling point by the time I reach the check-out counter.
A woman who appears to be in her mid-forties sits on a stool, bits of gray streaking her dark brown hair with silver. It’s tied up in a loose bun at the top of her head, and despite the dark circles under her brown eyes, she gives me a warm smile.
“Hi there, sugar. Did you find everything you needed?” she asks.
I glance down at her name tag—Emily.
“I did. Thank you, Emily,” I reply, a waver in my voice. Maybe it’s her warm smile or concerned eyes or my utter exhaustion from the past month that causes me to burst into tears. “Actually, no, I didn’t find everything I needed.”
Emily reaches a hand out to cover mine. “Oh my, I’m sorry. I’ll help you find it—what are you looking for?”
“Christmas!” I blurt out between sobs. Emily’s facial expression slips to confusion. Rightfully so. I compose myself, and everything tumbles out. “I bought a cabin here to use as a writing retreat because I love Christmas and I want to write Christmas movie scripts and I drove down from Kansas City today expecting to see a Christmas festival wonderland, but there’s nothing. There’s no Christmas spirit!”
I take a deep breath and blow it out. “I’m so sorry. I know I sound ridiculous. It’s been an exceptionally stressful month,and I’m beyond worn out, and I was counting on a big dose of Christmas cheer as inspiration to pull me out of the funk.”
Emily chews her lip before responding gently, hand still covering mine. “I’m sorry, hon, but we’ve never had any kind of Christmas festival. Who told you to expect that?”
I pause a moment, twirling my ring. “No one told me to expect it, I suppose. But I mean, the town is named Noel—I assumed therehadto be some sort of big Christmas to-do.”
“Ah,” Emily responds, and I already know I don’t like what she’s going to say. “Well, the town is named after the surname of the man who founded it—pronounced ‘Nole,' rhymes with hole. Not ‘No-el.' I could see why you’d be confused.”
I spin my ring faster around my finger, mind racing.
“What?! It’s…but the town is spelled N-O-E-L. That’s obviously No-el. What kind of false advertising is this?” I declare more as a statement than a question. “I want to file a complaint—who’s in charge in this town?”
Emily fights a smile, which should make me upset, but makes her more endearing for some reason. “It’s a small town, so our city council is limited and doesn’t meet frequently. But we do have a mayor, and you’re in luck—his office hour is on Mondays.”
