A Kiss at Christmas

by Meg Easton

  Kara clicked her mouse with a flourish of her hand and called out, “Sent!”

  At sixteen years old, Kara was the same age now that Whitney was when she first started working at the Gazette. They both made their way to Whitney’s desk and Whitney switched over to her email and opened the file. She read as Kara hovered. The article told about all the potholes on Silver Mine Street, and how unsightly it was and how difficult to drive on, and how beautiful it was going to look when finished.

  Whitney looked up at the girl and remembered how eager she had been to please Mr. Annesley when she was first learning the business. She hoped when she was training her young staff that she had the same determination to get it right while still showing a kind sparkle in her eye, just like Mr. Annesley’d had.

  “What’s the lead on this?”

  “Fixing the road,” Kara said, like it was the only possible answer. Then her brow crinkled and she paused for a moment before Whitney saw her eyes travel up to the big vinyl letters on the wall behind Whitney’s desk— The lead is the people. “Wait, it’s not the road. But how do I make the people the lead on this?”

  Whitney lifted one shoulder. “Who does the damaged road affect? Who will construction affect?”

  Kara’s eyes looked off into the distance, not really focusing on anything. “Elsmore Market is right on that corner. It won’t really affect their customers, but they get access to their employee lot from Silver Mine. Mrs. Davenport lives on Silver Mine, and she has a hard enough time pulling out of her driveway onto a regular road. She might need some help. Oh! And there’s a whole neighborhood of kids who ride their bikes down that street to get to the elementary school.” With each person she mentioned, Kara’s smile grew wider, and Whitney’s grew wider right along with it. “I’ve got a lot of people I need to talk to. Can I get you this article after your Main Street Business Alliance meeting?” Kara glanced at the clock on the wall. “Hey, shouldn’t you have already left for that?”

  Whitney looked up at the clock that read 3:55, and made a sound like a choked hyena. She smoothed down the front of her t-shirt and dark jeans and grabbed her black blazer off the back of her chair, pushing her arms into the sleeves as she walked to the door. “I’ve got to run.”

  “My article will be in your email when you get back,” Scott called out as she waved and walked out the door.

  She rushed down the street to the old library, followed the sidewalk around to the back of the building, and went down the cement stairs to the basement door and hurried inside.

  Yes! There was still a seat on the front row. Whitney sat down next to her friend Brooke. There was a time not that long ago where Whitney would’ve felt pangs of inadequacy sitting next to someone as fashionable and put together as Brooke, but apparently Whitney had come a long way on that front, too. She liked the outfit she’d adopted as her uniform when she became the owner and editor-in-chief of the paper. It honored the old newspaper pun t-shirt and jeans-wearing version of herself, yet gave the impression that maybe she had a clue what she was doing when she’d swapped out the stylish jeans of her teenage years for the darker, nicer looking ones and added the blazer.

  “I’ve got a headline for tomorrow morning’s paper,” Brooke said. “The World Ended at,” she glanced down at her watch, “three fifty-eight on Thursday.”

  Whitney laughed and then rolled her eyes. “Just because you beat me here for the first time in history doesn’t mean—”

  Brooke held up a finger. “I beat you here for the first time in history and you were very nearly late. I’m pretty sure both are signs of the apocalypse.”

  Tory, a woman sitting in the row behind them who lived in a house next to Whitney’s apartment building, leaned forward. “I’ve got some leads on an article for you. Are you going to be home tonight?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  The woman chuckled. “Yeah, you’re definitely a busy one. Should I just bring it by the newspaper then?”

  Whitney nodded. “I’ll be there until probably eight.”

  Whitney turned back to face the front, and Brooke folded her arms, giving Whitney a knowing look. “What?”

  Brooke raised an eyebrow. “You know, normal people aren’t gone this much. Normal people actually like to go home at the end of the day, relax a bit after working so hard.”

  “My house isn’t relaxing; it’s boring.”

  “Because there’s no one there, and you’re addicted to being around people?”

  There were very few people other than Brooke who could pull off a question like that and not sound rude. But it still stung. Whitney just shrugged and didn’t answer.

  “When was the last time you went on a date?”

  “You know I don’t date.”

  “I know I care about my friend who loves people, and want her to be able to go home at night and not be alone. And the only way that’s going to happen, my friend, is if you date.”

  “I don’t need to go on a date to not be alone.” She spread her arms wide. “I’ve got this entire town to keep me company.” When Brooke opened her mouth to say something more, Whitney added “Shush. The meeting’s about to start.”

  Chapter Two

  Eli shielded his eyes as the mid-morning sun shone down on all twenty-two people at the TeamUp training grounds. He switched his headset mic to on. “It looks like teams one and three have managed to get their ropes through the bucket handle without touching the bucket. A hearty high five to you both!”

  “And now team three has their rope through their bucket handle,” Eli’s business partner, Ben, said from the other side of the playing field.

  Eli chuckled as team four still strategized in a huddle, arms interlocked, heads down in the middle, looking more like a rugby scrum than five tech development and sales team members. “Team four— how you doing over there?”

  One head poked up, and he freed an arm long enough to give him a thumbs up.

  The three other teams each had a team member at either end of their rope, the bucket swaying in the middle, carrying their bucket of water, or “toxic waste,” to the waste site.

  When Eli and Ben made their way to each other, watching the teams’ progress, Ben switched off his mic and said, “Shouldn’t you have already taken off?”

  Eli glanced over at the open grassy space where they’d set up all the inflatable obstacles for arrow tag— the next challenge, and his favorite one to facilitate. Maybe if he just planned to drive late into the night, he could stay here until late afternoon.

  “Avert your eyes,” Ben said. “You know you can’t stay for that.” He switched back on his mic. “Whoa! Team four has left their huddle in a burst of energy. Look at that speed! They’re catching up!”

  Eli and Ben both moved to the edge of the playing field, where four “waste reclamation facilities” stood, each with a six foot wide circle painted on the ground, and in the center of each circle sat an empty bucket on top of a stool. All four teams reached their circles at nearly the same time, their buckets hanging from the middle of the rope strung between at least two players.

  “Remember,” Eli said, “that circle represents the radiation zone, and that zone goes all the way up to the sky. Don’t let any part of your body cross over into the radiation zone, or you lose it.”

  “Your dad’s going in for surgery tomorrow morning, right?” Ben said, covering his mic. “Nestled Hollow is in the center of Colorado so that’s like, what, a fifteen-hour drive?”

  Eli shook his head and covered his mic. “More like eighteen or nineteen.” He adjusted his mic and said, “Teams, have you figured out how to use that second rope to help dump that bucket, since you can’t go inside the circle or touch it? Time to get that rope out!”

  “So I guess you won’t be there before your dad goes into surgery, then,” Ben said. “Watch your hands! Don’t let it go over the edge of the circle! When do you have to report in at the family business?”

  “I have to be in town for a meeting a
t four o’clock. Cindy, you reached over the circle with that last adjustment! You just lost that hand— you’ll have to keep it behind your back from here on out. Team three, she’s struggling to keep that bucket from tipping— help her out!”

  Eli watched in silence as all teams stood with two members each standing on opposite sides of their circles, the rope stretched between them, the bucket hovering in the middle, near the bucket they needed to dump it into. Two more players from each team were stretching the second rope out between them, and each moving into place.

  It was amazing how well StylesTech had improved since the beginning of the week. StylesTech management had sent two departments to TeamUp— sales and development, because they couldn’t stop arguing and blaming each other. Eli and Ben had mixed up the teams for each challenge and only two and a half days later, both teams were working together like pros.

  Man, he loved his job. It was ridiculous how much he was going to miss it while he was gone.

  All four teams guided the second rope to push against the bottom portion of the bucket, while the two team members with the rope through the handle were pulling forward, causing their buckets to tip, pouring the water into the empty bucket on the stool.

  “And team four has finished!” Eli called out, while team four celebrated.

  “And team two!” Ben said. “Oh! Bad news, two, Frank just cheered a little too close to the radiation and just lost an arm and a leg. Bummer, Frank. Looks like you’ll be hopping for a while.”

  “Team three finished!”

  “And team one!”

  Eli made a show of putting on an invisible radiation suit, complete with helmet, and went inside each circle to see which teams had managed to get enough of their toxic waste into the reclamation facility.

  He stepped out of the last circle, pretended to take off the radiation suit and announced, “All four teams completed the challenge. TeamUp—”

  All twenty StylesTech employees shot a fist into the air and yelled, “To triumph!”

  Eli glanced over at the dirt parking lot at the edge of the training fields, where his car sat packed with everything he’d need to stay in Nestled Hollow for the next four to six weeks, and sighed.

  Ben clapped his hands together. “We’ve got cold water and Gatorades and fruits and other snacks for you before we head into arrow tag. But first, we’ve got one more team activity.”

  Eli’s attention shifted to Ben. This wasn’t in the schedule. Ben didn’t look at him, though; he just kept his eyes on the twenty team members of StylesTech.

  “You all know that Eli here isn’t going to be here for the rest of the week, because he’s got to head to Colorado. You’re all so much fun, though, that Eli doesn’t want to leave. What do you think, StylesTech? Can you TeamUp to get him to his car?”

  Eli laughed a big hearty laugh as they swarmed him, lifted him up in the air, and carried him to his car, setting him down by his car door.

  “Well, that was a first.” Eli laughed again. “You all really are rock stars. Remember that first challenge where you were supposed to lead the blindfolded person through the mine field of plastic cups filled with water, but instead you led the blindfolded to step right on every one? And now, not even midday on Wednesday, and you all pretty much just saved the world from an apocalypse with that Toxic Waste challenge. I think I got a little dust in my eye.” He wiped his eye like he was wiping away a tear, and everyone laughed.

  Ben motioned like he was pushing them all away. “Now get on over to the snack table and hydrate, everyone!”

  Eli glanced at Ben and then shook his head, smiling, as he turned off his mic and removed his headset, handing it to Ben.

  Ben took off his, too. “You know I’ve got your back. Or, I guess I’m good at instructing other people to have your back. Now stop worrying about heading home. It can’t be that bad. And hey— maybe you’ll even meet a girl while you’re there.”

  Eli thought of the one girl he’d ever fallen in love with and the look on her face when he’d driven away from Nestled Hollow twelve years ago. “Ha. Not likely.”

  “Oh, come on,” Ben said, laughing. “You’ll be there a month and a half. Maybe you can up your longest relationship record from two weeks to, I don’t know, maybe even three.” He paused a moment, then in a more serious voice, said, “Going home is always hard. Especially when you haven’t been there in twelve years.”

  Eli glanced west— the direction of home— and took a deep breath. “Yes it is. Especially when you and your business partner were ready to implement a plan to grow the business.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ben said, clapping him on the back. “I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone. Once you’re back, we’ll put the plan into play as if you’d never left.”

  In an effort to drown out any thoughts about where he was headed and what might happen when he got there, Eli blasted music from the moment he got on the freeway in Sacramento until late that night when he stopped at a hotel in downtown Salt Lake City. He was on the road again before eight in the morning, and the music did a good job of drowning his thoughts for the first six hours. But the closer he got to his childhood home, and the more he got texts from his mom saying that his dad’s ankle surgery had gone well and that he was recovering in the hospital, the more his mind went to the town that didn’t love him, the dad he could never please, and the girl he’d left behind all those years ago.

  The road wound between two mountains, and as soon as he came around the last bend, Nestled Hollow came into view, in a small valley with the freeway on one side and mountains forming the other three sides, the lake sparkling in the sunlight at one end, and his childhood came rushing back at him. This view had been forever burned into his memory, but seeing it again in person— as a thirty-year-old now— was different. He exited the freeway and made his way through town, memories hitting him one after another at a rapid pace, flooding his mind with every turn.

  He turned on to Main Street, with its creek running right down the middle of the street, separating one side of the road from the other, and drove past Treanor Outdoor Rentals, the family business that was his to run for the next four to six weeks. The place brought back surprisingly happy memories— as a kid he had dreamed of one day growing up and running the family business. He’d loved Treanor’s. There was no way he’d choose to run it now, unless his dad wasn’t in the picture.

  He drove to the end of the second block, just past the clock tower that straddled Snowdrift Springs, did a U-turn at the bridge covering the creek, then found a parking spot right near the library. As soon as he opened his door, he took a deep breath of the crisp mountain air that carried with it the faint scent of pine trees and fresh lakes and good, fertile dirt. As much as he didn’t want to be here, he had sure missed that scent.

  Eli glanced down at his watch as he walked toward the back of the building— 4:09. Perfect. He figured if he stepped in after the meeting started, it would minimize having to talk to everyone before he was ready. He walked into the downstairs meeting hall. About twenty-five people filled the space, and although there were a few empty seats still, every seat in the back row had been taken. Instead of interrupting the meeting by squeezing in somewhere in the middle, he leaned against the wall at the back.

  Eli’s dad had brought him to these meetings every week from about age ten until age seventeen, when Eli’s parents separated and he started rebelling against everything his dad wanted him to do. He smiled to see that, even after all these years, Ed and Linda Keetch were still running the Main Street Business Alliance. She was talking about the plans for Fall Market, and which Main Street businesses were helping out with what.

  And that’s when he saw Whitney sitting in the front row and his breath caught in his throat. Every time he’d thought of her over the past twelve years— and he was embarrassed to admit how frequently that was— he had always pictured her still here in town. But he hadn’t dared to hope that she was actually still here.

 
Her hair was shorter— it brushed her shoulders now, but still had big curls and was the same rich auburn color he’d recognize anywhere. He hadn’t seen her in twelve years, yet being in the same room with her still caused a fire to burn in his chest and made him no longer able to think straight. Maybe, hopefully, she would turn enough that he could get a glimpse of her face.

  Linda glanced down at her clipboard. “I’ve already made a few assignments— the plans that Joey’s Pizza and Subs and Paws and Relax have to bring in tourists really seem to be coming together so nicely. Let’s move on to the decorations for Main Street,” she said. “The snow pack for this winter is predicted to be the lowest we’ve seen in a couple of decades, so things are going to get tight for all of us when it comes to the bottom line. We need this Fall Market to be better attended than ever before to make up the difference in revenue we can expect at each of our businesses this winter. So things are going to need to be truly spectacular this year. Next in line for their turn at decorations are the Nestled Hollow Gazette and Treanor’s Outdoor Rentals.”

  Eli stood up straight, feeling like he’d just been hit by an explosion. He hadn’t even been in town five minutes, and already he was getting assigned to be on a committee. And heaven help him if Whitney was here with the Gazette. That’s where she’d worked back in high school, but hopefully she’d changed professions. He couldn’t be teamed up with her, not after being gone for so long. He wondered if she was still angry about the way he’d left all those years ago.

  Whitney’s hand shot into the air. “Maybe we should switch that assignment to someone other than Treanor’s. Robert will be out of commission until well after Fall Market.”

  “It’ll be just fine, dear.” Linda met Eli’s eyes and gave a nod. “Robert’s son is here to run the store in his absence. He can partner with you for the decorations.”