Ginger (Marrying Miss Kringle)

by Lucy McConnell

“Ahem.” Lux snapped her computer shut, gathering the attention back to her. She tugged at her Captain America T-shirt. “There is another way. Now that Ginger has been chosen.”

  “Do tell.” Robyn brushed her apron flat.

  “It’s simple, really. Ginger gets married.”

  “Excuse me?” Robyn blinked.

  “Ha ha.” Stella grinned. “What do you think of online dating now?” She gave Ginger a teasing shove.

  Frost clasped her hands together. Her face lit up with possibilities in lace and satin. “A Christmas wedding.”

  “What do you mean, online dating?” Gail asked Stella. Their mother didn’t miss a thing. Stella’s ears pinked and she pressed her lips together. Ginger was grateful Stella had been the one to let it slip—saved her the trouble

  “It’s true,” Harvey said in a low voice. Throughout the whole exchange, he’d studied them as they bantered back and forth, stroking his snowy white beard. He wasn’t the type to chat up a room. He and Lux were kindred spirits in that way.

  Turning, he grasped the fireplace mantel with a large, muscular hand and leaned heavily against it. “For the sake of Christmas, Ginger must be married.”

  “That’s rich!” Robyn stomped from the room.

  Gail exchanged a look with Harvey. As she rushed to follow her oldest daughter, she pointed at Stella. “We’ll talk later.”

  Once the sound of Gail’s heels on the wood floor receded, heads swung back to Ginger. Stella winked, Lux blushed, and Frost clapped, still thrilled at the idea of a Christmas wedding and getting to dress them all for the event, no doubt.

  “Whoa.” Ginger held up both hands as if she were quieting a skittish reindeer. “What does marriage have to do with Christmas?”

  Harvey flipped around. “Everything.”

  “He’s right,” added Lux.

  Ginger lifted both eyebrows.

  Lux set her computer on a round side table. She scratched her neck. “Bear with me; this could take a minute to explain, and I’m not even sure I have a good handle on it.” She gathered her thoughts before starting. “Okay, so you know how for, like, ever, Santa only had one son and never any daughters?”

  “Yeah.” Ginger nodded.

  “Then, all of a sudden, Mom and Dad have five daughters and it’s weird, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, the year before Robyn was born, Ann Bancroft became the first woman to reach the North Pole.”

  Stella cocked her hip. “So?”

  Lux continued, her words gathering speed. “So, her arrival here, her indomitable spirit, her heart, her determination, her perseverance, her ability to overcome the harshest of conditions through sheer willpower affected the magic, changed it.”

  “How?” asked Ginger.

  Lux sucked in a breath. “It made things possible for women—it made us possible.” Lux brushed her fingers over her laptop. “There’s still so much to learn. But, it appears that things happening in the world affect what happens here. Advances for women didn’t start or stop with Ann Bancroft, but somehow her presence here signaled a change. Like a chain reaction of sorts. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inducted its first female musician—”

  “Aretha Franklin,” Dad chimed in.

  “Right, Miss Franklin, the year I was born. But it wasn’t just America. Other countries moved forward in this way as well, and some of them faster than the US. For example, Nilde Iotti became President of the Italian Chamber of Deputies in 1979,” Lux continued. “That and so much more were all going on out there, and things in here were slowly following suit. But I think the biggest catalyst for change at the North Pole was Mom.”

  “Mom?” Ginger and Stella said at the same time.

  “Believe it or not, Mom is a modern woman. Before she met Dad, she marched for women’s rights, had a cool job, and got thrown in jail.”

  “You’re talking about our mom?” Stella pointed at the door where Gail, in her chevron red apron and mom jeans, had disappeared only a few minutes before.

  “She’s a force of nature.” Harvey’s face was so full of love and admiration for his wife that Ginger’s heartstrings plucked a merry Christmas tune. Perhaps that’s why she shunned marriage. Hitching up with a man who didn’t look at her like that was unthinkable.

  “More than you know, Dad,” Lux agreed. “As best as I can figure, Christmas Magic is fueled by the true love between the chosen one and his—now her—significant other. Since none of us are married, the magic falters. I think choosing Ginger was a cry for help.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Lux.” Ginger glared.

  “Not that you won’t make a wonderful Santa.” Lux scratched her head. “Come to think of it, we should have seen this coming. I mean, you’re the one who got Dad’s List Radar. That should have been a dead giveaway that it would be you and not Robyn.”

  “Yeah, but it’s always been the firstborn,” argued Stella.

  “The only born, you mean,” countered Lux.

  Stella shrugged. “I got his engineering skills, you got his science stuff, Frost got his speed reading … we all ended up with something.”

  Ginger addressed her father. “Did you know marriage—love—was part of the magic?”

  Dad released a giant peppermint breath. “We weren’t sure. It’s only been in the past few months that we’ve had enough data for Lux to draw any conclusions. Lux is a pioneer in the study of Christmas magic, this is all so new … Yet I believe her; you need to get married—before Christmas if possible.”

  The world took on a crazy tilt and speed, causing Ginger to fall into Gail’s chair by the hearth. Sucking in air, she focused on not passing out.

  Dad took her hand, rubbing it briskly. “I know we’re asking a lot.”

  “Nee-yah,” was all she could say.

  Stella sat on the rug by Ginger’s feet and placed a hand on her knee. “I can help you find someone. It won’t be so bad. There’s lots of nice guys in the world.”

  Frost took the spot next to Stella. “I’ll make you the most beautiful wedding dress you’ve ever seen.”

  Ginger held back her eye roll. Like the dress was her major concern right now. Of course, Frost thought all this was a magical fairy-tale adventure, and Stella believed meeting the right guy was a matter of filling out an online form and posting a profile pic. Ginger turned to Lux for some good old-fashioned logic.

  Lux stood behind Harvey’s red velvet chair, her lips pressed in a firm line.

  “What?” Ginger demanded. There was more than the two of them had let on.

  “Dad’s already picked someone,” Lux blurted.

  Dad gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  Ginger sagged into the chair. “You’ve picked someone? This isn’t a fruit stand. You can’t just go through the nice list and select a guy with the best bio.”

  Stella flicked her leg, but Ginger ignored her.

  Harvey rubbed a hand down his beard. “Actually, there are a couple men I thought would be promising. I made a list …” He patted down his pockets. “Ah, here it is.”

  Ginger eyed the cream-colored paper with distrust. Lux twisted the Batman ring on her right hand.

  Harvey held out the paper, his eyes soft. “I wasn’t willy-nilly, Ginger.”

  She reached for the sheet. Knowing her own obsession with lists had come from the man in front of her, she conceded that it might be worth reading. Without opening it, she asked her dad, “Tell me about them.”

  Harvey settled into his red plaid chair across from her. Frost and Stella faced him, drawing their knees up to their chests. The scene was much like when they were small children settling in for story time. A pang of nostalgia pressed into Ginger’s heart. Things were never going to be the same again.

  “I thought picking someone used to the cold, the dark, and the long winters was a good idea, so I stayed as far north as I could. They had to have been on the good list for a minimum of ten years, preferably twelve—though twelve years of bel
ief is hard to find these days.”

  They all nodded.

  “We also need a hard worker, and all of the men have an education or training of some kind.”

  That doesn’t sound so bad. The page crinkled at her touch. The whole situation seemed … unromantic. Mustering up the enthusiasm to introduce herself to Santa-approved potential grooms was proving to be difficult.

  Staring at the silver snowflake, she considered the possibility that this was all just a huge cosmic joke. At any moment the planets would align, and her life would go back to normal. She’d be the third daughter of a Christmas icon and nothing more. Which she knew kind of sounded strange, because truly normal people didn’t grow up having Santa read them a bedtime story or driving sleighs or playing with elves. But that was her norm, and she liked it. Inviting someone else into their snowy fortress would introduce a whole new dynamic. She’d been willing to face the change, knowing Robyn would have to marry some day and that one or two of her sisters might choose to do so as well. Getting married herself was a whole new ball game.

  “Wait … why do you have this list? I didn’t know I’d be chosen. We all thought it was Robyn.” Ginger dropped the list on the floor as if it were boiling sugar. “You made the list for Robyn—didn’t you?”

  “But Robyn has Elmer.” Frost wrinkled her brow.

  Harvey smirked.

  “Oh my peanut brittle—you don’t like Robyn’s boyfriend.” Stella scrambled to her feet. Her eyes lit up with a bit of juicy gossip.

  Harvey held up a hand. “Elmer is an interesting young man.”

  “They’ve been dating for six years!” Ever the romantic, Frost was aghast at the thought of breaking up the Christmas power couple. “You can’t split them up—they’re in love.”

  Ginger bit her tongue. She’d accompanied Robyn once to visit Elmer in London. The two of them were as proper as the Queen of England and as romantic as the bald butler with a massive overbite. If that was love, no wonder Christmas Magic screamed for help.

  “I wouldn’t dream of telling Robyn, or any of you, whom to date.”

  Stella snatched the parchment off the ground. “And yet you made this list.”

  Harvey shook his head. “I have five daughters. Do you think I wouldn’t keep my eye on the male population? That I wouldn’t care about the type of man they spent their time with?”

  Stella shifted her feet but didn’t reply.

  Ginger bit her lip. “Dad, there’s more to this than becoming Santa. This is my life.” And my heart.

  “I know, sugarplum. Trust me, I was in your place once upon a snowstorm.”

  That made Ginger smile, just a tad. Her father had taken the sleigh out during a storm—without permission. It was during that trip that he’d met Gail and fallen in love. She, however, took much longer to fall for the tender-hearted man with a penchant for cookies. Theirs was a beautiful love story with a happy ending.

  Ginger slipped the list out of her hand, daring to open it and read the names. After all, a recommendation from Santa was huge—everyone knew that.

  Patrick Greggory Scott

  Quik Nelson

  William Yazzie

  Steve Rob

  Scooter Stevensenson

  “What if this doesn’t work?” Stella asked Lux. “I mean, what if she can’t find someone by Christmas or none of these guys are worth a lump of coal?”

  Lux lowered her brow. “It has to work.”

  With that one statement, Ginger knew all that Lux didn’t say. If the magic couldn’t be fortified—if she couldn’t find love, a love strong enough to sustain Christmas—then Christmas would crumble like a week-old sugar cookie. Which meant their home would slip into the ocean waters and the Kringle family would be forced out into the world. The reindeer wouldn’t fly. The elves would disappear into puffs of elfin dust. Children all over the world would wake up Christmas morning and find emptiness. And there would be no more Santa.

  Looking around at the room where she’d grown up—sheltered perhaps, but loved beyond measure—the weight of leadership rested heavily upon Ginger’s delicate shoulders, pressing into the bones and threatening to topple her resolve. Dad, Lux, Frost, and Stella waited for some declaration of belief. “I’ll, I’ll do my best.”

  Perhaps it was the tremor in her voice, but no one was all that comforted. She turned to her father, the one man in the world who could read her heart and know that she meant well, that she desired to succeed at this absurd task, if only to please him.

  His crystal-blue eyes softened. “I’d expect nothing less. But I want you to remember, you can’t force love, my dear. Love itself is magical.”

  “Okaaaaay.” She hadn’t thought of forcing anyone into loving her. But then, maybe he was talking about her. Would she have to force herself to love someone? It certainly felt that way.

  “You can take the day-sled to Clearview right after Thanksgiving dinner. Who wants to go with her?” Dad clasped his hands expectantly. January was usually their time to fly around the world and explore, while Thanksgiving to Christmas was the time to hunker down and get things done. Christmas Magic had chosen a poor time of year to strike an emergency.

  Frost flipped her white hair over her shoulder. “I can’t leave the mail room—even missing one day could put me too far behind to catch up.”

  “I’m the same way in toys,” added Stella with a scowl. Of all the sisters, she was the most fun to travel with and the most outgoing. Stella would have taken on the task of setting Ginger up with eligible men, whether they were on the list or not, with glee.

  “Lux?” asked Dad.

  “I can work from anywhere.” She shrugged. Lux was the biggest homebody. Even in January, she hated leaving home and would only go for a day or two if the others cajoled her into leaving her nest of electronic toys and beakers and microscopes. Yes, she had more freedom than the rest of them and was the only one who didn’t want it.

  “This would be an engaging opportunity to study the cause and effect of Ginger’s actions on Christmas Magic.” Dad dangled the idea out there like a carrot in front of Dancer.

  Lux perked up. “I could treat it like a scientific experiment. Maybe write a paper for future Kringles to use as a reference. There hasn’t been anything written about the magic since 1534, and that booklet is out-of-date since we’ve been born. There are so many changes at the North Pole that someone should …”

  Ginger’s interest drifted from Lux’s excited chatter to their family portrait over the mantel. Even sitting side by side, her parents only had eyes for each other. Finding that kind of love before Christmas Eve was nigh unto impossible. But Ginger refrained from complaining. Desperate though she may be, putting forth a confident air was a must—men weren’t attracted to desperate, and she could fake it until she made it. Especially if she had some help …

  “Frost, can you spare an elf or two to sew me some clothes?”

  Frost leaned closer, the two of them forgotten as Santa and Lux explored the scientific possibility of storing magic in batteries or generators in case of future brownouts. “What did you have in mind?”

  Ginger fingered her swirling skirt. She wanted to feel like a girl and dress to flatter the curves she got from her mother’s side of the family. “Tiered skirts, blouses with ruffles …”

  “That won’t work,” interjected Santa as if he’d had one ear on them and another on Lux.

  “Why?” Ginger asked.

  “Because you’re going to Alaska.”

  “Alaska?! But it’s cold in Alaska.”

  Dad chuckled, his belly bouncing. “It’s cold here.”

  Not that Ginger was worried about the weather. No Kringle was ever bothered by the cold. She could walk outside right now, where the temperature was below zero, and not even shiver. But she couldn’t very well show off her unnatural abilities in Alaska. Running through snow as if it were beach sand would have her thrown in the loony bin. She’d have to dress like the rest of the population. In Alaska, t
hat meant layers.

  “Don’t worry.” Frost linked her arm through Ginger’s elbow. “I have a few ideas.”

  Ginger considered Frost’s grey-and-white-checkered leggings and purple cowboy boots. “Super.” Christmas is doomed.

  Chapter Four

  Joseph pulled the turkey out of the oven, along with a poof of black smoke. The pitifully small breast made Bob Cratchit’s Christmas bird look like a feast by comparison. The right drumstick was black, and the bottom had melded to the pan.

  Discouraged, he tossed the whole thing onto the stovetop with a clatter. As the noise died down, the sound of a snowmobile pulling away from his garage reached his ear. “Ruth,” he growled. Tearing through his small cabin, he wrenched open the door in time to see Ruth’s sky-blue parka and black helmet disappear over the ridge.

  There were a half dozen places she could hole up in for the night, and he’d never find her in time to bring her back for dinner. Let alone return her to her daughter. Ruth had no doubt planned it that way.

  Cursing, he ran his hand through his chin-length hair.

  Behind him, Timber let out a low, half-hearted woof, telling him to shut the door and stop letting in the cold air.

  Joseph took a deep breath before facing the consequences of his sister’s poor decision. His house, a two-bedroom, one-bath cabin, had an open floor plan for the kitchen, dining, and living room areas. The woodstove in the corner kept the place toasty throughout the long winter. Sparsely decorated—he was a guy, after all—the furniture was handmade with care, and the rugs were thick and soft. In the middle of the front room, Layla hugged Timber as if he were a giant teddy bear. She sniffed and buried her face in the dog’s grey fur.

  “Hey, hey, why the tears?” Joseph shut the door, crossed the room in three long strides, and squatted in front of the pair. Timber huffed and dropped to the floor, nearly taking Layla down with him.

  Layla wiped her eyes. “You’re mad at my mom.”

  Joseph couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. Growing up with a mother who stretched, pulled, and twisted the truth, he valued honesty above all else. Having lived by truth telling, he’d built a good name for himself in the small town and with his business associates. “Yes. I’m upset at her for leaving.”