Christmas Charms

by Teri Wilson

  I’m just not sure what to do about it.

  I look at the charms on my bracelet, searching for answers. The silver teddy bear glints in the light from my bedside lamp. Susan wondered if the charms on my bracelet were supposed to teach me something, and deep down inside, I know that if there’s a lesson to the teddy bear charm, it’s this—that time keeps moving forward, one minute at time.

  Just like a pocket watch with a wind-up spring.

  I scarcely have to time to breathe for the next thirty-six hours, much less ponder the intricacies of time. The toy parade consumes almost every waking minute. My favorite duty of all is delivering two glittering snowflake tiaras to Susan’s house for Sophie and Olivia, who have been unanimously chosen by the parade committee to be the Firefighters’ Sweethearts this year. For the first time ever, we’ll have two instead of one.

  The girls are positively thrilled—so thrilled that they insist on making matching snowmen and topping both their frosty heads with the tiaras, just to try them out “to see if they work.” I take an absurd amount of pictures, intent on capturing as many memories as possible to take with me back to the city. It’s such a precious moment that I’m caught off guard when my charm bracelet chimes twice in rapid succession.

  Jingle, jingle.

  Jingle, jingle.

  Sophie and Olivia’s laughter is the only thing that keeps my panic at bay.

  I know it’s silly. Last week, I tried everything I could to remove the bracelet from my wrist—to free myself from the Christmas magic that did nothing but confuse and unsettle me. For a minute there, I might have even been ready to take a hammer to my own arm. Thank goodness I came to my senses.

  And then, once I saw the home movie and realized my girlhood Christmas dreams were coming true, one by one, all I could think about was little me’s wish for a fairy-tale ending. A happy-ever-after.

  The engagement ring charm was right there, and all I could think about was what it might mean. But as I arrive at the fire station on the afternoon of the Firefighters’ Toy Parade, my very first thought is that now the engagement ring charm is the only one left.

  I wish that there were more. This has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had, and I don’t want it to end, happy-ever-after notwithstanding. But things are completely out of my control. That’s how it works with magic, isn’t it? Wishing for more charms would be like using a magic wish to wish for more wishes. As little as I actually know about Betty, I’m one hundred positive she would agree.

  The fire engines are all decked out in Christmas lights and loaded down with bags of candy canes to toss into the crowds. Homemade floats representing the local businesses from Main Street are lined up, ready to go. The old Ford pickup that belongs to the owner of Mountain Candy pulls a trailer decorated with thousands upon thousands of silk flowers bunched together in the shape of various candies. Tall lollipops wobble to and fro in the winter wind. Pete from Pete’s Auto Shop is dressed as Buddy the Elf, sitting atop a refurbished Cadillac.

  Everywhere I look, I see small-town charm—pure and simple love of a community that comes together every Christmas to celebrate the most magical time of the year. It’s definitely not the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

  It’s better.

  Only one thing is missing—Aidan. I can’t seem to find him anywhere, and I was hoping to give him his Christmas gift before the parade starts. Uncle Hugh has taken command of the bullhorn, and he’s running this show like clockwork. But Aidan and I are supposed to be giving the final go-ahead. He’s got to be around here somewhere.

  With just minutes to go before the ladder truck starts things off, I find him. He’s stretching an old firehose along the start of the parade route, using it as a makeshift barrier to keep the crowd safe. Always the hero.

  “Aidan, can I talk to you for a quick second?” My heart is in my throat all of a sudden. Is now really the right time to do this?

  Yes, I think, imagining the ticking of the pocket watch I’m about to give him. Time is slipping by. Who knows when the last charm will jingle? It could be at any second. I may not get another chance.

  “Ashley, hey.” His whole face lights up at the sight of me. Heat radiates through my chest in spite of the snowflakes drifting through the air. “I think we’re about ready, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I have something for you first.” I’m holding a small wrapped package behind my back, and when I present it to him, he tips his head to the side and regards me thoughtfully. My breath catches in my throat, and I feel bashful all of a sudden. Vulnerable, like Fruitcake would probably feel if he accidentally broke free from his leash.

  “Merry Christmas,” I say, and it comes out far more breathy than I intended. Why is this so difficult? It’s only a Christmas gift.

  Probably because it’s more than just a simple gift. It means something. My hands start to tremble, so once he takes the wrapped package, I shove them into my coat pockets, out of view. Aidan means something.

  “Thank you.” His eyes fill with warmth. “You want me to open it now?”

  I nod, because I don’t quite trust myself to speak.

  He removes the shiny giftwrap with care, and when he lifts the lid from the box, the pocket watch rests face-down on a bed of tissue paper. He glances up at me, and I smile. Our gazes stay locked for a quiet, breathless moment, and the tender look in his gaze seems to wrap itself around me like a blanket. He knows this gift isn’t something I’ve bought from a store. It’s a tiny piece of my heart, wrapped up in red paper. Just for him.

  The parade is set to wind its way through Owl Lake any minute, but it feels like time has somehow come to a standstill. We’re caught in a tremulous moment, a sublime season that’s no longer part of our past, but isn’t quite the future either. It’s just us, Aidan and me, in the here and now. And I realize if I had one more Christmas wish, it would be to stay here where things are simple and uncomplicated for as long as we possibly can. But I don’t even know what a wish or a charm like that would look like. I only know how it feels—like a gift from a Secret Santa, like snowfall on Christmas morning, like midnight on New Year’s Eve.

  Like every sort of holiday magic all rolled into one.

  Aidan smiles into my eyes, and my head spins like it did when he turned me in circles on the ice at the Santa Skate. Then he slowly turns his attention back to his gift. When he turns the pocket watch over, his gaze goes painfully wistful at what he sees.

  “It’s my dad’s old firefighter badge,” I say, although that’s obvious. It’s light gold, with the seal of the OLFD etched onto its center in deep red enamel. An axe, a ladder, a helmet and a fire hydrant are positioned in each corner, and my dad’s badge number—seventy-one—is engraved at the top. “From when he was a rookie. He used to let me play with it when I was a kid. The pocket watch was missing its cover and I wanted to find something special to replace it with. Something just for you.”

  The air around us is filled with lacy snowflakes and crackling anticipation. Now, more than ever, I wish I could tell what Aidan was thinking.

  He shakes his head, and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Ashley, I don’t know what to say.”

  But I do. I’ve been practicing the words for hours in my head.

  “You know how much my dad loves you. He wants you to have it. I talked to him about it and he adored the idea—especially when I told him how important it was to me. The past few days have meant a lot to me, Aidan. More than I can put into words, really.” I feel more self-conscious right now than if I were standing on Main Street dressed as one of Santa’s elves. “I wanted to give you something special. I hope that’s okay.”

  Aidan’s eyes sparkle, and I feel warm all over.

  “Of course it’s okay.” He presses the watch to his heart, and the gesture is so poignant that I can’t bear it. “Thank you.”

  “Merry Christmas,” I say
, and my voice goes all wobbly. I’ve never been great at hiding my emotions, but being back in Owl Lake has reduced me to a raw nerve of feelings and hope, want and expectation, too rich and sharp to keep under wraps. Or maybe it’s not Owl Lake. Maybe it’s just me, remembering what it feels like to want to kiss someone so badly that I can barely think straight.

  “Merry Christmas,” he says, and as he takes a step closer, his gaze drops to my lips.

  He feels it too, then—this heady, glittering pull between us. It’s not just me. It’s us–Ashley and Aidan. Years are slipping away, one by one, and this time, neither one of us is doing a thing to stop it.

  This is it. This is the moment when we’re finally going to kiss, and it’s perfect. It’s the exact right time. Just like the watch, we’re making something new out of something lost and forgotten.

  My pulse is racing, and I’m so happy I could cry. Visions of mistletoe dance in my head as I lean toward him, welcoming his warmth, his evergreen scent and the years of shared memories that dance in his eyes. This is where I belong…right here. Always and forever.

  But just as Aidan lowers his head to mine, someone in the periphery calls my name.

  “Ashley!”

  Then my perfect Christmas kiss ends before it even begins as I realize who’s walking toward me.

  Jeremy.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I must be in shock—real shock, like during a medical emergency—because I can’t seem to feel my limbs. I know everyone around me must be talking because I can see their mouths moving and I can see the children along the parade route clapping and cheering. But I don’t hear any of it. My head is filled with a terrible roar, like the rumble of snow tumbling down a mountain during an avalanche.

  I shake my head and do my best to will things back to normalcy. Jeremy can’t be here. He’s in Paris, on the other side of the world. There’s got to be some mistake.

  “Ashley, are you okay?” Jeremy laughs, as if his nonsensical appearance in Owl Lake is some sort of hilarious joke. He reaches to cup my elbow, and I’m so stunned that I let him. “I’m sorry to catch you off guard like this, but I wanted to surprise you.”

  Surprise me? I let out a shaky exhale. “Mission accomplished. I’m surprised.”

  And not in a good way. I’m more confused than anything else, honestly. I sort of feel like one of the firefighters milling about should wrap me up in one of those silver space blankets they give people who’ve experienced a sudden loss of body heat.

  The parade is seconds from starting, and I just gave Aidan his Christmas gift. There’s still so much for us to talk about, so much to say. He was about to kiss me, for real this time, and now he’s standing awkwardly between Jeremy and me, clearly feeling like a third wheel. My special moment with Aidan has been ruined, and now that Jeremy is here, I’m not sure we can get it back.

  I glance in Aidan’s direction, and when our eyes meet, I see him tuck the pocket watch I’ve just given him into his coat pocket. Out of sight.

  His gaze flits toward Jeremy, and he extends his hand for a shake. “Hello, I’m Aidan Flynn. Welcome to Owl Lake.”

  “Jeremy Davis.” Jeremy takes Aidan’s hand and pumps it up and down without bothering to remove his fine leather gloves. He clearly has no clue who Aidan is or what he once meant to me. I know for a fact that we’ve talked about it, but like so much else about me, he seems to have neglected to pay any attention to the details.

  How could I have possibly wanted to marry this man?

  My eye flit once again toward Aidan, even though looking at him right now hurts. Any and all traces of Aidan’s charming dimples vanish as he searches my gaze. He recognizes Jeremy’s name, and he obviously wants to know why my ex-boyfriend is here in Owl Lake when I told him Jeremy was spending Christmas in Paris.

  Join the club. I shrug but Aidan turns to check on the fire truck getting into position at the parade’s starting line before he can see it.

  I’ve got to get control of this situation right now. Aidan and I have a job to do. Together. I gave him my word.

  “Jeremy, the parade is just about to start, and we…” I gesture at the empty space between Aidan and me, which feels cavernous all of a sudden. “…we’re in charge, and…”

  My words are tumbling over one another, and the seconds are passing too quickly. Jeremy doesn’t even seem to be listening. He’s too busy grinning from ear to ear, reaching for my hands and squeezing them tight.

  “Ashley! Aidan! There you are. Hugh is looking—” My dad’s voice trails off as he walks up to our awkward trio. He does a double take at the sight of Jeremy, and his smile freezes in place. “Jeremy. This is, ah, certainly a surprise.”

  My mom bustles up beside him, with Fruitcake’s candy cane–striped leash wrapped around her crocheted mittens. When she spots Jeremy, her mouth forms a perfect O of surprise.

  “Look, honey.” My dad’s spine goes rigid and he draws in a long breath. “It’s Jeremy.”

  “I can see that,” Mom says, and then she reaches to give Jeremy a polite hug. “Merry Christmas, Jeremy. We thought you were in Paris!”

  “I was.” Jeremy nods. “And Paris is beautiful this time of year, as always. But it just wasn’t right without Ashley.”

  He flashes me an apologetic smile, and it’s the most contrite expression I’ve seen on his face in the entirety of our relationship.

  “Oh.” I shake my head. “You don’t need to apologize.”

  He didn’t actually apologize, though, I think. There’s a difference between implying something and saying it out loud—a huge difference that I’m more aware of now than ever. If I’d had time to actually tell Aidan how I feel before Jeremy popped up, I wouldn’t be feeling so terribly uncomfortable at the moment.

  All I did was give him the watch and tell him the past few days have been special. I stopped short of saying the words that mattered most.

  I still love you.

  “That’s okay. You’ll see Paris next year.” Jeremy winks at me, oblivious to the thoughts swirling through my head.

  What is going on?

  “It seems like you two have a lot to talk about. Why don’t you stay here, Ashley? I’ve got the parade under control,” Aidan says.

  Wait.

  I shake my head. That’s not what I want at all. I know Aidan is only trying to be nice, but I don’t want to stay here on the sidelines. I want to be right in the center of things, helping to run the parade, just like I promised. Just like I chose, when I made the decision to volunteer. I haven’t seen a Firefighters’ Toy Parade in what feels like an eternity, and I don’t want to be a visitor in my hometown anymore. I want to be a part of it—this year and for many more years to come.

  All of them, I realize as my throat goes tight. All of the years, the entirety of my Christmas future.

  I’ve been running away from Owl Lake for as long as I can remember, searching for something I couldn’t quite name. Adventure? Glamour? Excitement? I’m not even sure anymore. I just know that the closer I got to that ever-elusive something, the emptier I felt. I don’t belong in Paris. I don’t even belong in New York anymore. I belong right here, in the town I’ve loved with my whole heart for as long as I can remember.

  “Um…” I remove my hands from Jeremy’s. Has he been holding them this entire time?

  But I don’t have a chance to finish what I was going to say. Aidan doesn’t even get the chance to turn and make his exit, because the moment I let go, Jeremy reaches into the pocket of his elegant black overcoat and pulls out a small, square Windsor-blue box.

  My mom gasps and all my breath seems to leave my body in a sudden whoosh. Wordlessly, Jeremy drops down on one knee right there on the snowy sidewalk.

  This is it—the scene playing out before me is the exact scenario I’d pictured in my head when Maya hinted that Jeremy was about to propose. Only inste
ad of taking place in New York or Paris, it’s happening in my hometown. In front of my parents and my dog and the greater population of Owl Lake.

  In front of Aidan.

  “Ashley, I should have never let you walk out of my life,” Jeremy says.

  Fruitcake, excited to find one of the humans kneeling down to his level, wags his entire back end, wiggles toward Jeremy and licks the side of his cheek. For some reason, I expect Jeremy to react with mild disgust, but he doesn’t. He laughs it off.

  A crowd is forming around us, intrigued by the sight of an unfamiliar, well-dressed man kneeling in the snow in front of one of their own. Women press hands to their chests and sigh with delight when they catch sight of the little blue box in Jeremy’s hand. My parents, Aidan, Jeremy and I are immediately swept up in a chorus of oohs and ahhhs. Curious onlookers are pressing in on all sides, effectively blocking Aidan’s exit. He’s going to be forced to stick around and witness the rest of Jeremy’s proposal.

  And it’s all so wrong. Everything about it feels wrong, from the way it’s so quickly turning into a public spectacle to the fact that the man is kneeling down in front of me with a tiny velvet box in his hand is the wrong man.

  Be careful what you wish for.

  So much has changed since the day my train rolled into Owl Lake. Everything, really. Back then, I was secretly waiting for Jeremy to show up, tell me it was all a big mistake, and beg me to agree to be his wife. This proposal is everything I thought I wanted—so perhaps it’s what I deserve.

  “Ashley James, veux-tu m’épouser, mon amour?” Jeremy says, and then opens the ring box with a flourish.

  A cushion-cut diamond solitaire in a pristine platinum setting glitters against a black velvet pillow. Somewhere behind me, a man says, “Whoa, look at that rock.”

  Someone in the vicinity groans. I’m pretty sure it’s my dad. My mom elbows him sharply in the ribs.