The Christmas Grinch

by Rebel Hart

  “Five!?” she scoffed. “Yeah right. Look for yourself.”

  Hazel glanced over and counted. “Oh big deal! So you had six! Our seven still would have beat you.”

  Tom, Josh, and Mr. Malone were far more concerned with the horrible injury they had seen me endure and quickly came over to check on me. A little ice and a good walk later, I was back to normal...other than walking a little bow-legged.

  “I really am so sorry,” Hazel apologized for the millionth time.

  “Sorry for hitting me or sorry for touching me?” I quipped.

  “Both,” she blushed.

  “Maybe I should be thanking you. You saved me from having to participate in the big dance party.”

  “Oh, that’s one of the best parts though!” she chimed.

  “You think they’re all the best parts.”

  “Not true. One thing definitely wins first place, and we’ll have the best view of it from right over there.”

  She pointed a ways further down the path to a small hill under a clearing of the trees. I followed her up to the perch which turned out to be overlooking one massive tree centered in the valley below. Everyone started singing and gathering around it, while Mr. Malone himself prepared to plug it in and light it up.

  “There’s no better tree lighting ceremony in the world,” she sighed, looking down over the scene. “Not even the big unveiling at Palmers has this beat. The wide open woods all around, the winter air, and that big beautiful moon in the sky.”

  Suddenly I realized I wasn’t watching the tree or the people at all. My vision had drifted over to her and the glistening in her eyes, so filled with wonder and happiness. She gasped like a child when the tree finally lit up and everyone started to sing louder, holding hands and circling around it.

  “Isn’t it one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen?”

  With my eyes still glued to her, I whispered, “Yeah. Sure is.”

  She turned towards me all of a sudden, looking shy. Her eyes dropped to the ground between us, then met mine again.

  What happened next was like some kind of gravitational pull, beyond our control. I inched closer, brushing my hand to her cheek, watching her eyes softly shut and her lips part. I instinctively fell in, pressing my lips to hers. Her kiss was plump and petal soft, tasting like cinnamon, nutmeg, and clove. It wasn’t until she let out a soft moan that I fully realized what was happening and came to my senses enough to pull away.

  By the time she opened her eyes again, she looked surprised and somewhat terrified. I could only imagine my face looked the same. We both laughed awkwardly and put a good foot between us, turning our attention back to the big tree in the valley down below.

  “We should just pretend like that didn’t happen. Right?” she asked nervously.

  “Definitely,” I nodded, sliding my hands into my pockets. But I was just as confused as she was.

  While trying to get me to fall for Christmas, she may have been making me fall for her instead.

  11

  Hazel

  On the cab ride home, I kept my butt firmly planted on the opposite end of the backseat from Chris. My hands were clenched in my lap and my eyes were glued on the window. But it did nothing to curb the crackling energy between us that started sparking the moment we got too close at the tree farm. More than just too close...We kissed! We actually kissed. I kissed Chris Palmer. Ooops….

  Blaring sirens were still going off in my brain, making it hard to think or do much of anything other than keep a safe distance to ensure it didn’t happen again. Because that would be bad, right?

  Finally, I cleared my throat and dared to speak. Something, anything to break the heavy painful silence that was even louder than my pounding heart.

  “So, do you love Christmas yet?” I asked sheepishly, leaving off the rest I wanted to say...Because the sooner you do, the sooner we can be done with each other and get on with our lives without worrying about accidental kisses under Christmas trees.

  “Not quite,” he admitted. “But I’m starting to understand why you do, I think.”

  “Oh? And why is that...you think?”

  I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I couldn’t look back for longer than a split second at a time or else I felt like I might combust.

  “It’s more of a feeling than something I can explain,” he shrugged. The deep sexy rasp of his voice was striking more chords than I could count inside my body.

  Desperate to cool things down, I blurted, “Tell me more about this big Christmas ball your family has every year. The deeper we dive into your personal history with the holidays, the sooner I can have you cured from your scroogedom.”

  He was quiet for a moment, until the cab pulled up in front of my apartment. “I have a better idea. I’ll show you exactly what it’s like.”

  “Show me?”

  “Yeah. It’s this weekend, and I’m inviting you to be my plus one. You know, for research purposes.”

  He said it so calmly and casually, even though nothing felt calm or casual about the implications of me attending his family Christmas party with him. Not after what just happened at the farm.

  “Oh, this weekend? Um. I’ll have to...I’m not so sure,” I fretted, wringing my hands as he opened my door to usher me out.

  We stood in the cold on the sidewalk, awkwardly shuffling our feet.

  “Well, check your schedule and let me know,” he finally replied. “If you decide to accompany me, I’ll make all the arrangements.”

  “Arrangements?”

  “Goodnight,” he sang out on his way back into the cab.

  His door shut and the car took off, leaving me standing there like a stunned idiot. As if the kiss wasn’t bad enough, now we were supposed to pretend it never happened and keep attending big serious family functions together!?

  My nose was so frozen I thought it might fall off by the time I snapped to and retreated into my apartment. An hour later I was back in my element with a nice bubble bath and a hefty bottle of wine. The hot water and bubbly buzz was either weakening my defenses, or allowing me to see things more clearly. I couldn’t quite be sure which it was.

  I only knew that after obsessing over it until my skin was pruned, I realized it would be crazy not to accept Chris’s invite. For one thing, it was basically my job, right!? I had to get the guy on the Christmas train so I could rewrite my piece for both of our sakes. I was no psychiatrist or anything, but I was pretty positive that the best way to get to the root of a problem was to look at your childhood and find something to blame your parents for.

  Plus...this was me...Hazel Malone, blogger and perfectionist and holiday lover extraordinaire, not to mention a romantic at heart, though I hadn’t had many personal opportunities in my life to really let it show. And here I was being invited to a Christmas ball by the very man who now owned the department stores I had been in love with since I was a child. How could I possibly say no!?

  One more glass of wine was all it took to make me certain. It was late, but I didn’t want to give myself any chance to change my mind. I slipped into my robe, toweled off the ends of my hair, and pulled out my phone to text Chris, accepting his invite.

  I was buzzing with nerves by the time I slipped into bed. He wouldn’t see the text until the next morning most likely, but it’s not like I could unsend it. My fate was sealed.

  By mid-afternoon, I was worried he didn’t see the message at all. There was no response, but I didn’t want to seem like a crazy person and send it all over again if he was actually just ignoring it. Maybe he had too much spiked eggnog and regretted asking me at all!

  Feeling thoroughly embarrassed for accepting an invite that the person was now wishing they never extended, I spent most of the afternoon bundled up on the couch, overthinking myself into a dark cave. But then…

  A knock came to my door. I slowly opened the door to see no one was standing there. There was only an abandoned box left for me on the doormat. A big white box wrapped in
a red bow. What the hell…

  I carried it inside and sat it down gently on my kitchen table. With my fingers clamped on the silk ribbon, I started to pull. It cascaded down to the table top, and I lifted the lid. All I could see at first was green tissue paper with a little handwritten note card sitting on top.

  Consider this your formal invitation to the annual Palmer Christmas Gala. It’s black tie formal, so please take the enclosed card and buy whatever you need. See you Saturday. -Chris, aka the Grinch

  I blinked and read it three more times before it really sank in. He had seen my text, and his response was to send me his credit card to go buy myself a literal ball gown. What had my life become!?

  I dug for the credit card in the tissue paper and immediately started dialing the emergency line for my sisters. We had a special group call setting saved on speed dial for situations just like that.

  The next afternoon, they met me downtown to help me pick out a dress...and also to potentially help me figure out if I had slipped into a full blown delusional state when none of this was actually happening in reality.

  “So, it’s his family’s Christmas party,” Margo said as we browsed the first boutique with champagne flutes in hand.

  “Yes...except his family...well, they’re the Palmers. So their Christmas party is a full blown ball.”

  “And you’re going as friends?” Payton asked.

  “Yes,” I answered slowly.

  I ran my hands down a silver embroidered gown hanging on the rack, avoiding their expressions. But they had moved in on either side of me and were both glaring, showing no signs of letting up until I faced them.

  “What?” I groaned. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Something happened between you two,” Payton grinned.

  “No. Nothing happened,” I insisted weakly.

  Margo placed her hands on both of my shoulders and pushed me down onto one of the velvet sitting benches, leaving them both towering over me.

  The shop girl tried to return with a size I asked for, but Margo quickly cut her off. “Not now!”

  She immediately turned around and vanished into the back of the store. I was all on my own now.

  “Ms. Malone. Can you please explain to the jury how it is you have come to know one Mr. Chris Palmer?”

  “Oh god,” I buried my face in my hands.

  “You’ve sent her into full blown lawyer mode,” Payton shook her head.

  “Answer the question please, Ms. Malone.”

  “I wrote an article on him,” I sighed, giving into her game.

  “And would you say the article was good or bad?”

  “Bad. Very bad.”

  “And then how did your relationship with Mr. Palmer go? In light of the bad article.”

  “We made an agreement,” I started to explain. “Come on, Margo. Do we really have to do this? People are staring.”

  “May I remind you that you are under oath.”

  “No, I’m not. You never…,” I stopped with the death glare she sent blazing in my direction. “Ugh, fine.”

  The questions went on and on, one after another reviewing everything that had happened between me and Chris since the moment we met. Until she got to last Friday night…

  “And at your father’s tree farm, you and Mr.Palmer disappeared frequently alone together, did you not?”

  “Yes, we did. Will you just get to the point already!?”

  “And on any one of those occasions...did you or Mr.Palmer initiate anything physical or intimate in nature?”

  “Alright! We kissed! There! Are you happy!? It was a freaking accident! Okay!? I didn’t mean to and I don’t think it meant anything.”

  “And following this kiss...you were invited to meet his family?” she raised her brows.

  “It’s not like that!”

  Margo slipped away, digging in a nearby rack for a moment before reappearing with a new dress in hand. “I believe this is perfect for the occasion.”

  Payton’s and my eyes grew wide at the sight of the emerald green sparkling gown she held up in her hand. An ornate lace trimming lined the off the shoulder neckline, followed by miles of satin and velvet with beautiful sequin patterns that gave it a regal look.

  “You would look absolutely amazing in that,” Payton gaped.

  “It’s sexy, for him...and for you,” Margo explained. “But also impressive and modest enough for his family. You know, in case they become your future in-laws.”

  “How many times can I say it’s not like that!?” I shrieked. “I don’t even like Chris Palmer. I can barely stand him.”

  “Yeah, give her a break,” Payton defended. “When I can’t stand someone, I usually kiss them and meet their parents.”

  “No, now you’re just describing married life,” she quipped, holding the dress out for me to get a closer look.

  I traced along the beads and lace, trying to imagine what Chris’s face would look like when he saw me in it. It was pricey, but he did say to buy whatever I needed.

  “Well...what do we think?” the shop girl asked.

  A big smile spread across my face. “I’ll take it.”

  I was still in disbelief as I watched her carry it away to bag it up. My life really was turning into a Christmas fairytale. If it weren’t for the fact that my “Prince Charming” and I were more like arch nemeses than we were lovers.

  12

  Chris

  I waited in the lobby of Hazel’s building, trying to remember if I had ever once invited someone to attend the Palmer Christmas Gala with me before. The verdict, after a few minutes of racking my memories, was - No. And why had I done it this time? That would take much more thought than I had time for at that moment.

  Suddenly, the elevator dinged and I turned just in time to see the doors sliding open, revealing one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen behind them.

  Hazel had transformed into a queen in her emerald sequin embroidered gown. It hung from her shoulders and luscious chest like a glove, and the color glowed against her tan freckled skin and red hair. Her matching eyes had their usual captivating spark, but with something extra that evening.

  “Wow,” I muttered under my breath.

  She stepped forward and smiled. “Good evening, sir. Is this okay? I’m not over or under dressed or anything?”

  I held her hand high and turned her around once in front of me. “It’s perfect. You know, it’s a shame the store won’t be doing this annual display anymore.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying. But wait. Why are you saying it now?”

  “Because for next year’s display I think all we would have needed to do was put you in the window, and it would have been our best one yet.”

  Her smile spread wider as her cheeks blushed.

  “We should get going,” I said, clearing my throat.

  She walked ahead of me a few steps, giving me some much needed time to recompose myself before facing her again.

  As promised, the Gala was bigger and better than every year before with every chandelier in our family’s manor polished to sparkling perfection to match the china, champagne flutes, and golden trays of food. Everything had a shimmer of splendor, including the immaculately decked out guests and all the decorations. An entire choir had been hired to sing throughout the evening along with a string quartet.

  I watched Hazel take it all in like a child seeing snow for the first time - her eyes wide, her lips parted. She was enthralled, like I knew she would be.

  “Chris!” she gasped, clutching my arm. “Look! There are turtle doves! Real live actual turtle doves!” She pointed to the golden cages suspended around the room from the vaulted ceiling.

  “There’s almost nothing my mother would deem ‘too much’ for this thing. And...speak of the devil.”

  My mom’s face lit up, as much as it ever would, when she spotted me from the other side of the room. A gold fountain trickled behind her as she waved and glided over.

  “Son
, so good to see you,” she said, leaning in to kiss both of my cheeks. “And who is this vision on your arm?”

  “Who me?” Hazel laughed nervously.

  “Mom, this is Hazel Malone. Hazel, this is my mother...Evelyn.”

  She took Hazel by both hands and kissed her cheeks as well. “Hazel, how lovely to meet you. How is it that you and my son know each other?”

  “Oh, well...it’s kind of an interesting story actually…”

  “She’s a writer doing a piece on the annual display at the store,” I offered before she could say too much. Our relationship was a little hard to explain, and I knew my mother didn’t really want to hear the whole thing anyway.

  “A writer? How fascinating,” she replied in a dry tone. “Do enjoy yourselves, darling. I am sure we will have plenty of time to catch up through the evening.”

  She fluttered off after spotting someone else she was eager to greet, which would be an endless rotation for her throughout the evening...never having a real substantial talk with anyone the whole night or speaking to any one person for longer than a minute or two. I always thought it looked exhausting.

  “Did I do something to scare her off?” Hazel frowned.

  “Oh, no. That’s Evelyn. A quick hello is all that woman can manage to offer anyone. Ah, but here’s the real man of the hour. Hazel, meet my father...Jack Palmer.”

  “Son!” He approached me with a hug, looking handsome in his tux...even if his hair was going salt and pepper - that somehow only added to his charm. “How are things at the store? Your mother has restricted me from calling and asking five times a day. She keeps telling me you’ll call me if you need anything.”

  “It’s all going well enough,” I smiled tightly. “Dad, this is Hazel Malone. That writer from NonPareil.”

  His eyes lit up as he kissed the top of her hand. “Hazel, my god. You are stunning. My sincerest apologies for pawning you off on this grouch for the feature. It seemed once I waited a year or two too long before going into retirement, I couldn’t wait a second more.”