Chapter Eighteen

Mira felt dizzy.

An hour ago, she had known for a fact that her bonus was toast. She wasn’t going to cooperate with Marsh, and the day was going to end with him smugly firing her for it. It was going to leave her in a difficult fix, but even so, it was a stand she had to take because she didn’t want to terrorize some poor innocent reindeer.

But Marsh had terrorized the reindeer anyway, and the reindeer, acting in self-defense, had terrorized everybody .

And now, everything was different.

Better? Worse? It was hard to say.

The Arbogasts had promised that everyone on staff—with the obvious exception of Marsh, who had been ignominiously canned for endangering their son, and good riddance—would receive their holiday bonuses as planned. They would even get paid for their cancelled hours on Christmas Eve. And Mira and Wade were both getting generous bonus bonuses on top of that as thanks for their quick handling of the reindeer catastrophe. The reindeer were even being picked up by a rescue that would return them up north.

She had nothing to complain about, really. She could pay her parents’ entrance fee into the retirement home and have money left over. She could even get an early start on the holidays. And she would never have to wear the Galadriel dress again ... unless she and Wade decided to have a sexy elf-themed night.

... But the Christmas Village was gone. Poof . It had been a Honey Brook institution for years, and now it had disappeared.

Was that her fault? Could she have done more to keep Marsh from dragging the reindeer over to Wade?

No, right? What should she have done, abandoned the child she was talking to and hopped on Marsh’s back, wrapping her arms around him to hold him in place? That was ridiculous.

It wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t been able to control a grown man who hated her. It wasn’t Wade’s fault that he smelled like a polar bear. They had done their level best to keep the day from going the way it had.

So why did she feel so empty ?

She couldn’t even concentrate on picking out a gift for her parents. She’d hit on the idea of giving them a present from her and Wade, a Mira-selected, Wade-carved bit of woodworking they could take to their new home, now that all the loose ends had been tied up.

Right now, she should have been torn between the hundreds of beautiful pieces she was looking at. Instead, all she could think of was that next year, Honey Brook’s plaza would be so horribly bare. No more cups of cocoa to share with Wade. No more busted and beloathed carol-oke machine. No more of any of it.

“Do you think the Arbogasts might change their minds?” she said, apropos of nothing.

Wade didn’t seem like he thought it was a question straight out of the blue.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” he admitted. “Maybe they’ll feel differently this time next year. It’ll give them time to let the bad feelings dwindle down. I mean, every mall has some kind of Santa at Christmastime, doesn’t it? Honey Brook wouldn’t want everybody who’s looking for one to take their business elsewhere.”

“Good point,” Mira said, but it only made her feel better for a second. “But that doesn’t mean they’ll have to have the whole Village. It seems like the Arbogasts think it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

Maybe it was. There had been plenty of times this year when it had felt like that to her.

But a lot of her problems with the Christmas Village had stemmed from Marsh. Without him—

Well, it would still be busy and loud. Kids would occasionally be bratty, parents would occasionally be demanding. Everyone who worked there would unavoidably get sick of Christmas carols.

But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a real sense of magic. That didn’t mean they had to give the whole thing up.

Once again, Wade was on the same page she was.

“Maybe we can change that,” he said. “I can talk to some other store owners in the mall next year and see if I can build up some support for the idea. The Christmas Village probably brings in extra foot-traffic that we could all use.”

Mira nodded. That was a good idea. She could feel the holiday spirit starting to creep back in.

She threw in an idea of her own:

“There are a couple of podcast hosts I know who do special December programming. I was thinking of doing all holiday romances a month next year to get in on it. Maybe some of them could help me promote the Christmas Village and get it back.”

Making concrete plans—and having Wade’s help—gave her the sense that her feet were back under her again. The situation still wasn’t ideal, and she wished the Arbogasts hadn’t been so hasty, but she could at least get herself to focus on Wade’s shop.

That was good, because there was a lot to focus on. She took a deep breath to clear her head, and now she could appreciate the warm, clean, almost spicy scent of mingled kinds of sawdust. The back room of Wade’s shop was unusually bright and airy, and the good thing about their day at the Village ending so abruptly and so early was that there was still some sunlight to make all the wood back here glow.

“Wade, this is beautiful. I should have told you that right away, but I’ve just been so wrapped up in this Christmas Village thing. It’s been messing with my head.”

He took her hand. “Don’t worry, mine too. But I’m glad you like the store.”

“Like” wasn’t even the right word for it. It was one of the nicest places Mira had ever been in. She had always liked it, but now that she knew Wade and could see how his personality infused everything in here, she adored it. It wasn’t just the last of the afternoon’s sunshine from the skylight making everything gleam. It was the care Wade had poured into every piece.

Her favorite carvings were the ones of medium-light wood, like alder or maple. The small decorative sculptures made out of them almost looked like Wade had formed them out of drizzled honey.

She thought her parents would like them, too. She’d been leaning towards getting them something useful, like a traditional housewarming present, but the retirement home would take care of most of their needs in that direction. What they really needed wasn’t something useful but something beautiful, something that would make it clear that their new space was theirs . It should feel homey, not medical. One of Wade’s sculptures would help it feel that way.

She picked out an abstract one—mostly cedar, with a ribbon of maple twining around it—and offered to take it out to cashier. She wasn’t too surprised when Wade refused, but she enjoyed paying him with a kiss instead.

“Hopefully your parents will like it,” Wade said. He sounded more nervous than she would have guessed, and he must have heard it too, because his expression turned sheepish. “I think what I really mean is that I hope they like me. But yeah, I hope they’re happy with the sculpture too. Are you sure that’s enough of a contribution to tonight? Should I bring along a bottle of wine or anything?”

“No, you’re good. Cliff can’t drink anymore because of his health, and Mom’s never really liked it.” She hoisted the sculpture. “This is more than enough. They’ll be delighted it with it. And you.”

“I hope so.”

“They will,” Mira said firmly. “Now ... do you think the wrapping paper booth is still up, or have the Arbogasts firebombed it already?”

She had kept her Christmas shopping pretty minimal this year, since she had been trying so hard to save money, so she hadn’t bothered buying any wrapping paper of her own. What was the point, when the Christmas Village booth had been right there?

Remembering that it might not be there next year gave her a pang, but she did her best to dismiss it as she and Wade headed back to the plaza. They would have to save the Village for next year, that was all. What else could they do?

Luckily, no one had started taking the booths down yet, so they had time to wrap up the sculpture. She let Wade do it, just so she could have the pleasure of watching his skilled hands at work. It was unbelievable that she was feeling all hot and bothered over gift-wrapping, but that was just the effect he had on her.

Besides, it was a good distraction from looking out at the emptied-out Christmas Village. Last night, the solitude had been cozy, but that was when it had felt natural: alone with Wade at the end of a long day.

Now it was too obvious that that the Village had been cut down in its prime.

Could she ask the Arbogasts to keep it open on Christmas Eve after all?

No, there was no way they would agree to that on such short notice. The reindeer rampage was already getting publicity, and if Honey Brook couldn’t counter it with anything equally dramatic, it was understandable that the Arbogasts would want to just let the story make its way out of the news cycle as quickly as possible. Opening for an ordinary half-day wouldn’t help with that. Ironically, the only thing that might would be a Marsh-style stunt, like how he had brought in the reindeer in the first place.

It was better to just let it go. She had a great not-Christmas dinner to look forward to, and she had good news to give her family. She was about to have a lot more time to spend with Wade.

It wasn’t Galadriel’s job to save Christmas. She wasn’t even the one to save Middle-Earth. It was time to let it go.

She rested her head on Wade’s shoulder and tried to do just that.