The Holiday Swap

by Maggie Knox

  “I’m here now and happy to help out,” she said, smiling at the assistant as she tied the apron strings around her waist. “Any idea where my sister got off to?”

  “She said she had to deal with a few things—including the issue with the sourdough starter.” Charlie felt awful as she thought about the icing sugar mix-up. “But she’ll be back later.” Walter handed her a spool of shimmering silver ribbon and a pair of scissors. Swaths of ribbon had to be cut to tie up the bakery’s gingerbread cookie decorating kits.

  Walter slid the trays of gingerbread cookies out of the oven, then peered out the bakery’s front window at the falling snow. “It’s really coming down now. Are your mom and dad going to make it back in time?”

  Charlie glanced up from the ribbons she was cutting, frowning. “Their flight keeps getting delayed, but last I heard they were still scheduled to depart tonight. Fingers crossed.”

  Walter started transferring the hot cookies to the cooling tower. Charlie, now used to the bakery’s space and routine with Walter, moved about with ease, getting the ribbon and bags ready. Then she reached for the sprinkles and silver balls—the bottles tucked toward the back of the cupboard, mostly hidden in shadows.

  “Huh. I was just about to tell you where those were, but looks like you figured it out,” Walter said. “Which is sort of weird . . . How did you know where Cass kept them?”

  Charlie laughed to cover her blunder. “Ah, don’t overthink it, Walter. It’s a twin thing. This is exactly where I would have put sprinkle bottles, too.”

  Over the next couple of hours they worked side by side, baking and cooling more gingerbread, chatting about everything from baking hacks to how much snow was expected by Christmas.

  “Cass told me you were interested in culinary school. And television.” Walter gave a shy nod.

  “You know, I’m happy to help you however I can,” Charlie said, not sure that offer carried any weight now. But if Walter noticed the hesitation in her voice, he made no comment.

  She looked at the boxes full of decorating kits, finally complete and ready to be delivered. “Those are for the firehouse, right?” Every Christmas Eve the firefighters handed the decorating kits out to the kids during Starlight Peak’s annual holiday event.

  “Yeah. I was going to drop them over there on my way home,” Walter said.

  “Why don’t I do it?” Charlie said. “I can pop out and be back in ten minutes, no problem.”

  “You sure?” Walter was leaving early for his family’s tree-trimming party. He told Charlie he could skip it if she needed him to stick around, but she insisted he go. “Trust me, you’ll miss those family traditions once you leave home,” she had told him. She thought back to her own family’s traditions: her dad’s famous gingerbread cake, served warm with candied oranges and whipped cream; opening one present on Christmas Eve—always a book and pajamas; the photo of the four of them in their ugly sweaters taken each Christmas morning in front of the tree.

  When Walter opened the front door to leave it nearly flew on its hinges, the snow swirling outside. “Looks like we’re guaranteed a white Christmas,” he said, pulling his hat down more to cover his ears. “Tell Cass I’ll be back tomorrow to finish up the Starlight Bread?”

  Charlie promised she would, wishing Cass would hurry up and get back to the bakery so they could talk. She’d told her twin she wanted to be alone, but now that she was, she wanted nothing more than to make things right with her sister.

  * * *

  • • •

  Charlie sat in the car outside the firehouse, surrounded by boxes of gingerbread, trying to work up the nerve to ring the doorbell. The drive from the bakery to the firehouse had been a short, though white-knuckled, one. It was a blizzard now, and the heavy snow showed no signs of letting up anytime soon. She’d left a note for Cass, telling her she’d return shortly so they could talk, and a “Be Back Soon” sign on the bakery’s front door for any customers.

  “You can do this,” she murmured, turning off the car. After a deep breath she texted Jake and told him she was outside, and could he talk now? Then, with a box in each arm, she walked up the front steps right as Jake opened the door.

  He reached out to take a box from Charlie’s arms. “Here, let me help you.”

  “Thanks, Jake.” Charlie stepped into the warmth of the building’s front entrance, the smell of roasting chicken and warmed sage filling her nose. Her breath hitched, now that she stood so close to him.

  “Are there more?” Jake asked, not noticing how close she was to falling apart. He was looking past her at the car.

  Charlie glanced behind her. “Yeah, but I’ll grab them in a minute.” She shivered, the cold air swirling through the still open door, and Jake reached around her to shut it. Then he gave her a smile, but it didn’t reach his gorgeous eyes.

  At the look on his face, everything she had wanted to say—had rehearsed on the short car ride over—got stuck in her throat. Then, weirdly, a sharp pain in her head made her gasp. Charlie put a hand to her temple, trying to rub away the pain, which was pulsing in deep waves across one side of her head.

  “Are you alright?” Jake asked.

  “Not really.” The strange pain dissipated as quick as it had come, but she still wasn’t okay. Charlie felt almost physically ill with guilt. She couldn’t put off what she had come to say any longer.

  “Do you need to sit down? A glass of water?” Jake put a hand on her shoulder, clearly worried Charlie was about to topple over. She wished she could just throw herself into his arms.

  “I don’t need anything,” she said quietly. Then drawing in a breath, she added, “Actually, that’s not true. I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay,” Jake said slowly, clearly unsure about where this was going.

  “I’m not Cass.”

  “What?” At first he cocked his head, looking at her in confusion. But soon that shifted to concern. “Look, I think maybe you should sit down.”

  “No, Jake.” She pulled away and out of his grasp. “I’m not Cass. I haven’t been Cass all week. I wasn’t Cass the night you saved Gateau from the tree. It wasn’t Cass you ate chili and drank beer with at the pub.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “It wasn’t Cass you danced with after the wedding. It was me, Cass’s twin. Charlie.”

  “What?” Jake said again. “What are you talking about?”

  Now Charlie stepped toward him but stopped short of actually touching him. She had been lying to Jake all week. She knew she had to give him space as he processed it.

  “Cass and I swapped places. There was an accident on set in L.A. and I had a concussion and lost my sense of taste and smell. I couldn’t do my job, and I needed my sister’s help.” She was breathless, trying to get it all out quickly. “And because she’s the best sister in the world, despite everything going on with her, she agreed. We switched places. We swapped lives, Jake.”

  He stared at her openmouthed. Charlie took his silence as an invitation to keep going.

  “I am so, unbelievably sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.” Charlie bit her lip to hold back her tears. “I never meant to . . .”

  Jake was still in a state of shock, but she could now see understanding settling into his expression.

  “I never meant to fall for you,” Charlie said, unable to hold back her tears any longer. “It was supposed to be easy! It was supposed to be simple. Just a week, pretending to be Cass. Which, thinking about it now, was stupid. You can’t just take over someone else’s life, even for only a week, and not have there be consequences.”

  Jake started laughing. Now it was Charlie’s turn to stare openmouthed, beyond confused by his reaction.

  “Are you kidding me?” Jake said, laughing harder now. But there was a wounded edge to his tone that made Charlie feel even worse. “Are you kidding me right now?”

  “No, J
ake. I am not kidding you right now.” Charlie put a hand on his arm, and she felt him tense and slide away from her touch.

  “I know you likely can’t forgive me. I’m having a hard time forgiving myself. But I never meant to hurt you.” Charlie half turned toward the door. “I’m going to go, but, um, if you want to talk, call me. Okay?”

  “Wait, Charlie.” Jake’s voice was gruff, the laughter burned out. “Did you . . .” He pressed his lips together. “Was it real?”

  Sadness engulfed Charlie. She knew what she felt for Jake was as real as it got, and that it was over. “It was real,” she said. “Every second.”

  Neither of them moved. Jake started to say something but was interrupted by Charlie’s phone, ringing in her coat pocket.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, reaching for it. “My parents are trying to get home from their vacation in this blizzard. This might be them.”

  But it wasn’t her parents. It was Cass. When she answered Charlie heard sounds of wind whipping and some rustling. “Cass? Are you there?”

  And then, Cass’s voice, but so soft it was hard to hear her. “Charlie, I . . .”

  Charlie pressed her other hand to her ear, trying to block out the firehouse’s ambient noise so she could focus on Cass. “I can hardly hear you,” she said, speaking loudly. “Where are you?”

  “Charlie . . . I’m hurt.” Her sister was crying, and Charlie’s stomach dropped.

  “You’re hurt?” Charlie was practically shouting now. Feeling panicked, she looked up at Jake, wild-eyed. “Cass? Cass! Where are you?”

  “On the trail. I . . . hit my head and I . . .” Her twin sounded so weak.

  “Which trail? Cass? What trail?”

  But there was no answer, and a second later the call disconnected. Charlie called Cass back, but it went straight to voicemail. She tried again, and again got voicemail. “Cass, please, please, please pick up.” Her voice shook as she tried Cass one more time.

  “Charlie, talk to me,” Jake said. “Let me help you.”

  Just then the fire station’s alarms started blaring. Angry red lights joined in, the sound of the alarm loud enough Charlie had to put her hands over her ears. She shouted to Jake that she had to go and find Cass. He nodded and then leaned close and said, “Wait one minute. Wait for me,” before racing up the stairs.

  But Charlie couldn’t wait, her only thoughts were about getting to Cass as soon as she could.

  * * *

  • • •

  Charlie drove back to the bakery faster than she should have, given the state of the roads, the blizzard making it nearly impossible to see anything. A few minutes later she’d arrived at the bakery and raced inside, quickly throwing on one of Cass’s down feather ski jackets, along with a pair of heavy-duty snow boots and waterproof gloves. She was on her way back to the car when another car pulled up to the front of the bakery.

  A dark-haired man jumped out, handsome and vaguely familiar. Charlie couldn’t quite place him, but he seemed to think he knew who she was. “Cass!” he shouted, turning up the collar of his jacket against the snow and wind as he moved quickly toward her.

  “No, it’s Charlie,” she shouted back. Then he was in front of her, and she suddenly recognized him. The physician assistant who had treated her the night of her concussion. What was his name? Her mind went blank.

  “Oh. Hi, Charlie. It’s Miguel. From the ER, when you came in with your concussion last week? Wow, is it ever cold here.”

  Charlie didn’t have time to figure out how Miguel knew Cass, or why he was here in Starlight Peak looking for her. She opened her car door. “Miguel, I’m sorry, but I have to go. It’s an emergency.”

  “Oh, of course! Don’t let me keep you. I’m just wondering . . . do you know where Cass is?”

  Charlie paused, her hand on the car’s door handle. “She’s my emergency.”

  Miguel’s face dropped. “What happened? Is she alright?”

  “I don’t know,” Charlie said, her voice quavering. The wind whipped at her cheeks, the snow sharp against her skin. She opened the car door and got inside.

  “I’m coming with you,” Miguel shouted, before sprinting around to the passenger side. He was in the car and buckling his seat belt before Charlie even registered what was happening.

  “Let’s go,” he said, his mouth set in a grim line, and Charlie—no longer trying to hide her tears—nodded and put the car in drive.

  * * *

  • • •

  “Cass!” The three of them, Charlie, Miguel, and Jake, shouted her name over and over as they made their way up onto the mountain from the trailhead, their flashlight beams crisscrossing the snow-covered trail. Charlie had made Miguel call Jake as they drove, filling him in on what was happening. He promised to meet them at the parking lot at the base of the trails, and was bringing flashlights and some gloves and a hat for Miguel, along with first aid supplies. The rest of Jake’s crew was out on a call—apparently someone had overcooked a turkey, causing a small kitchen fire—but Jake had told the chief he had to go help Charlie. She was grateful, not only because of the three of them he was the only one with actual rescue experience, but because she felt better about most everything when he was nearby. With him there, Charlie felt sure they could find Cass. That they would find Cass.

  Charlie wanted to throw up every time she thought about her sister’s pitiful, pained voice. She had to be okay. Whatever had happened during the past week with Cass in L.A., Charlie no longer cared about any of it. She just wanted to hug her sister.

  “Cass!” Charlie’s throat was raw, the cold air making it worse every time she took in a breath. “Cass, where are you? Oh!” She tripped then, falling forward so quickly she didn’t even have time to do much aside from get one arm under her to break her fall.

  Jake, who had been ahead of her, turned around and, seeing her on the ground, sprinted back down the trail. “Charlie!”

  “I’m okay,” she said, as he helped her up. He held her arms, shook her gently so she looked at him. “Charlie, hey, it’s okay. We’re going to find her. I promise.” She nodded and wiped at her cheeks, where tears fell and froze almost instantly.

  They had been on the trails for about fifteen minutes, and it was getting more bitterly cold with every passing minute. With each step they took, Charlie started to lose the tiniest bit of hope. It had been almost forty-five minutes since Cass had called. The snow was coming down so hard she could barely see three feet in front of her even with the flashlight. And it was deep on the trail, making it hard to move quickly. If Cass was hurt and unable to walk, it wouldn’t be long before hypothermia set it. Charlie had never been this scared.

  “Over here!” Miguel shouted from farther up the trail.

  Charlie broke into a run, bounding up the trail as fast as she could. Her lungs burned and she couldn’t catch her breath. Jake was beside her, one hand holding his backpack straps as he ran, the other hand keeping the flashlight beam as steady as he could on the path.

  A second later Charlie and Jake saw a beam of light pointing up, and found Miguel on his knees beside an inert Cass. Charlie dropped to her knees as well, quickly putting her hands underneath her sister’s head to cradle it against the snow. Cass’s hair was matted with blood on her right temple, where a nasty-looking gash had opened. Charlie touched her own right temple, remembering the sharp pains earlier at the fire station. Cass’s blood had dripped down her face into the snow, the ice crystals an alarmingly deep pink. Her sister was unconscious, but as Charlie put her cheek to Cass’s lips she felt a puff of warmth. “She’s breathing! Oh my God. Can you hear me? Cass! Please wake up. Please!”

  Jake had taken off his backpack and was pulling out the first aid kit. He handed Charlie a survival blanket, which looked like a large piece of tinfoil. “Get this on her.” With shaking fingers Charlie laid the blanket across Cass’s torso and legs, do
ing her best to keep it on her sister despite the wind. Then Jake asked Miguel to move aside so he could treat Cass’s head wound, but Miguel wouldn’t budge. Instead, he held out a hand for the first aid kit. “I’m a physician assistant. I’ve got this. But can you get us help to get her out of here?”

  Jake nodded and crouched on Cass’s other side to help block the wind and pulled out his emergency radio, requesting an ambulance. He also called the station, asking dispatch for a rescue crew to come with a stretcher to get Cass off the trail.

  Charlie leaned over her twin, her tears dripping onto her sister’s face. Cass remained unconscious. Charlie squeezed her eyes closed, only one wish circulating through her mind. Please let her be okay.

  Miguel worked fast, getting a compression bandage onto Cass’s head to stop the bleeding. He was trying to wake her up, but when calling her name did nothing, he ran his fist back and forth over the middle of her chest, against her sternum. “Hey, Cass, wake up. Come on,” he said. Cass moaned, her eyelids fluttering. “That’s it, Cass. Open your eyes for me.”

  Charlie gently cupped her sister’s face as Cass blinked, slowly coming back to herself. “You found me,” she whispered. Charlie’s relief was immense. They still had to get Cass off the trail, and clearly she was badly hurt and near freezing, but she was alive.

  Charlie reached for Cass’s gloved hand and squeezed, murmuring, “You’re okay. Don’t move. I’m here. I’m here.”

  “I’m sorry, Charlie. It was stupid for me to come out here by myself.” Cass sounded weak but shifted her head slightly, trying to see who was holding the bandage to her head.

  “Miguel, is that you?” Her voice was so low it was nearly impossible to hear. Miguel grabbed her outstretched hand, then leaned down and gently kissed her on the lips. It was a kiss that told Charlie things in L.A. had been about as complicated for Cass as they had been for Charlie in Starlight Peak. Miguel kissed Cass again, and Charlie, watching them, knew this was more than a simple fling between her twin and the handsome physician assistant.