The Christmas Grinch

by Rebel Hart

  I mumbled to myself the whole way home and felt restless when I finally got back. I paced around my apartment, angrily fluffing pillows and dusting off picture frames. Cleaning was my favorite thing to do when I was mad, but I was too flustered to focus on any one task. As I wiped off one of our family photos, from two Christmases ago, I wanted to cry. I smoothed my thumb over all of our smiling faces - together, safe, and happy. What kind of Christmas would I have without them all together?

  My phone started ringing, which I rushed to answer, hoping it was Chris.

  “Hey crazy little sister,” Margo croaked. “You rang?”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “You’re all raspy and sniffling. Are you sick?”

  “Oh, I’m sick alright,” she groaned, wiping her nose. “I’ve just spent the last hour over the toilet.”

  “Oh no! You’re throwing up? Do you think it’s a stomach virus? Well, you don’t have to worry about spreading it around over the holidays. Have you heard what our parents and little sister are planning!? They’re abandoning us! On Christmas!”

  “I heard,” she replied.

  “You’re not upset!?”

  “It’s just as well. I can’t go anywhere like this. In fact, I think I’m going to stay locked up in my house for the next nine months.”

  “Don’t be dramati...Wait. Did you say...nine months?”

  “Yup. I don’t have a stomach virus, Hazel. I’m pregnant.”

  I was frozen in stunned silence, blinking as I stared off into space for a moment. “Pregnant,” I whispered.

  “Yeah, pregnant. And I feel like crap. So I was relieved when I heard from Mom, Dad, and Payton.”

  “That’s wonderful,” I forced a smile, feeling tears cloud up in my eyes. “Really. Wonderful. But...But no, Margo! This is all wrong! You’re pregnant! At Christmas time! We should have all been together at Christmas dinner when you told us! It would have been so magical.”

  “That’s a lovely scenario, kid. But not reality. For one, everyone else has their own thing going on this year. And two...I don’t plan on wearing real clothes for at least the whole first trimester. All I want to do is sleep in between trips to the bathroom and shoveling my face with any food I can manage to keep down.”

  “Uh-huh,” I nodded listlessly with tears streaming down my cheeks. “Congratulations, Margo. I’m so happy for you, really. But...I’ll have to call you back.”

  I hung up, hating myself for not being able to be the cheerful, peppy perfect sister who could take care of her right now. I would get there, but for the moment all I wanted to do was collapse on my bed and wallow in self-pity. There was still no word from Chris. I had no idea what to do about the article. And Christmas...was officially ruined.

  18

  Chris

  After leaving my parents, I instinctively returned to the office. Something always felt more solitary and comforting about brooding alone in there than it did at home. With everyone gone for the night, the store was dark. The other offices were empty. I was all alone, two days to Christmas, in my expensive leather chair and suit with nothing but the sound of ticking clocks echoing around me. If Hazel could have seen me then, she would have expected the ghosts from Christmas past, present, and future to start arriving.

  I half-expected to see a see-through old man in my doorway when I heard the light knock. But I looked up to see none other than Hazel herself standing there with a pensive expression.

  “Hey,” I jumped up, racing over to hug her. “I’m so sorry about dinner. I’ve had some...family things going on, and I got distracted. I haven’t had the greatest day...or I would have called. We can order something if you like. It’s not too late.”

  “No, that’s okay,” she said. “I’m not really hungry anymore. I’ve had my own family stuff going on, too. On top of an already crappy day.”

  “I’m sorry.” I hugged her tight and waved for her to have a seat.

  “I’m glad I found you here. I need to talk to you about something.”

  I rolled my chair around to face hers and held her hands. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

  “No,” she frowned. “No, everything is not okay. You remember how I said the article I wrote about you was bad?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” I laughed. “Apparently you weren’t the only one with an idea to write those sorts of things about me and my company.”

  “That’s just the thing. Now that everyone else is saying those things...my editors want to publish my original piece. In fact, they’re saying they won’t let me rewrite it anymore.”

  “I see.” I studied her face, searching for clues of what she was getting at. It started to sink in that she was being pressured into putting this thing out there no matter what she wanted to do...or what it might mean for me.

  “I told them I didn’t want to,” she added. “Maybe I would have before. But...it’s harder now that I actually know you. And...and with everything else going on between us.”

  “Everything else,” I repeated dryly.

  “Well, yeah. I guess that’s the other thing I need to come clean about. If it wasn’t already obvious, I really like you, Chris. I don’t want to do anything to hurt you or your company. Even if it means...taking a bullet at work.”

  The bitterness over everything with my family was still spinning around inside my brain. It wasn’t the best time to assess and discuss my feelings for her. I knew they were there, and I knew they were real. But that only made me all the more determined not to let her put her own job in jeopardy because of me.

  “You know, Hazel...This thing between us,” I started slowly, trying to gather the best words. I knew everything I was about to say would come out wrong, but she needed a push to do what she had to do. “It’s not really...I’m not so sure I…”

  Her brow furrowed. “You’re not so sure you...what? What are you trying to say, Chris? Just spit it out. You know I hate it when people beat around the bush, and people have done quite enough of that with me today already.”

  “I’m saying there’s nothing between us that should prevent you from publishing the piece your editors want you to put out,” I said more firmly. “You set out to make me love Christmas, and...you failed. I feel nothing for this stupid holiday. If anything, it just makes people act crazy from having too high of expectations.”

  “What?” she winced. “You don’t mean that. It was starting to grow on you. I know it was. And you’ve...You’ve been different. Please don’t just say this so I’ll publish the article. I don’t agree with what I wrote. You’re not just some bitter guy trying to profit and capitalize on Christmas. I know you’re not. And as far as we’re concerned...I know you were feeling something for me too.”

  I stood and walked over to the windows overlooking the dark store, putting some distance between us. “You know, I think love is a lot like Christmas. People get high on the feeling for a moment, but eventually it goes away. The thrill fades. The decorations and shiny lights get packed away. That kind of stuff can’t last forever. And then everyone goes back to their usual grumpy selves.”

  “But it doesn’t!” she protested. “It just changes! We can feel that same kind of magic all year long if we’d let ourselves, and love is no different. It ebbs and flows, but that doesn’t mean it just vanishes.”

  I was finding it harder to look at her, but she came over and planted herself right in front of me. “Look at me, Chris. You can’t tell me that you weren’t starting to feel things for me, and you sure as hell can’t tell me that whatever you were feeling is already starting to fade away. If you’re just trying to piss me off so I’ll put that stupid article out there, you’re wasting your breath. I already decided…”

  “This isn’t about your ridiculous blog, Hazel,” I snapped. “You’re always trying to paint such a perfect picture of everything, but none of it’s real! I’ve watched you orchestrate all of those flawless moments on your blog, but they don’t happen naturally. None of this does. It’s all forced and wrappe
d up in a bow and thrown in people’s faces to make them feel inadequate. But then again, maybe the sad part is...that you actually live in enough of a bubble to really believe it all. I guess you would with the kind of family you have.”

  Her eyes glossed over with tears as she stared at me in disbelief. “So what if I do live in a bubble!? So what if I want everything to be perfect!? The world is an ugly place. People do terrible things to each other every day. I don’t see anything wrong with trying to take joy in the little things, the little moments. Times during the year when we all stop to be a little kinder to each other. But I guess that part is lost on you. Well, you don’t have to worry. My picture perfect family and my precious little bubble has officially been popped. I don’t even have that this year, so I hope that makes you happy.”

  “It could do you some good to remember it can’t all be perfect all the time. Not even during your beloved Christmas,” I scowled.

  “Maybe I was right about you all along,” she seethed. “They say first impressions are everything, and apparently mine was more accurate than I thought. For that matter, maybe I was wrong about Christmas too. I guess I was wrong about all of it.”

  She turned for the door, but stopped. She was sobbing and her voice cracked, “Congratulations, Chris. Not only did I fail at teaching you to love Christmas. You actually went so far as to ruin it entirely for me. Good job.”

  Her heels clacked through the lobby and onto the elevator. I didn’t exhale until I heard the ding of the sliding doors and knew she was gone. I closed my eyes and hated myself for letting that go as badly as it did. I didn’t mean to take everything out on her, but it was too scary to admit how much she meant to me while my family was reminding me of a lesson I learned long ago...Never count on anyone but yourself. If she was going to keep her blog thriving, she needed to do the same. And I needed to get back to doing that with my business.

  I was more than ready to get home after that and snatched up my coat to head for the door, but just before turning out the lights I noticed something sitting in Hazel’s seat. I stepped closer and saw it was a neatly wrapped box, wrapped in a bow. Tossing my coat down again, I picked it up to carefully unwrap it.

  Inside was a small pine tree ornament, lightly dusted with painted snow with a gold chain attached to the top. I held it in front of me, knowing instantly why she picked it. I could still remember the smell of sap and crackling fireplaces that surrounded us in the woods when we first kissed. I was no more sure of myself then than I was now, but my body seemed to know something I didn’t that night. It moved and spoke louder than all of my conflicted thoughts, and I was glad it did.

  Putting the tree safely back into its box, I headed down the elevator and through the main lobby. I stopped in front of the double doors just in time to see Hazel climbing into the backseat of her cab. If this was a movie, I would have gone chasing after her. I would have had all the perfect things to say and she would be so happy. We’d kiss and live happily ever after. It would be perfect.

  But this wasn’t a movie, and I was no more perfect than life itself was. I didn’t have the right words and didn’t know how to feel. Everything was better before when I expected nothing, wanted nothing.

  I kept my feet firmly planted and watched Hazel ride away, thinking to myself it was for the best. Christmas was nothing more than just another day on the calendar, and she was nothing more than just another girl who made the mistake of thinking they could change me.

  19

  Hazel

  How could I have been so very wrong? I sobbed to myself in the back of the cab, slinking down in the seat to avoid the embarrassing stare of the driver from the rearview. Surely he had seen his fair share of crying women that needed a getaway car. According to Chris, the whole world was full of nothing but miserable people. So things like this probably happened to taxi drivers every day.

  But still...I could have sworn I had seen a spark of something else in him. Something softer, warmer. I guess I was just as wrong about that as I was about whatever feelings I thought he had for me. So stupid. He’s one of the richest most eligible bachelors in the city, according to Payton - even with his flailing business. It was foolish to think I was anything special to him. He probably had women fawning over him left and right.

  I bolted inside of my apartment to rip off my coat and scarf. It was toasty inside, but all my anger and adrenaline had me sweating even outside in the cold. I wiped my cheeks and took a few deep breaths. I had to turn something in to my editors.

  I poured a glass of wine and sat down at my laptop. Writing a new article usually excited me, filling me with optimism about the possibilities. I hated the way everything seemed to have a dingy film over it now. All of my favorite things were turning gray and slipping through my fingers like dust. Is that what it felt like to be Chris? No wonder he was such an unhappy person, determined to ruin it for everyone else too.

  I took a few more sips and started typing and didn’t stop until I got it all out. I sent the piece off to my editors and poured another glass. What I needed was a long hot bubble bath, but even that didn’t have the appeal it usually did.

  I plopped down onto the couch and admired my own little Christmas tree in the corner, trying not to start crying again. But nothing felt the same anymore. No family dinner to look forward to. No Chris. I used to think my blog and my business meant everything to me, but it meant a lot less when it suddenly felt like the only thing I had left.

  The next day at work, I had managed to lift my spirits a little by ordering a salted caramel espresso with foamy milk that warmed my heart every time I swallowed it down. I reminded myself it really was the little things that made all the difference. And anyway, I was never one to let myself stay down in the dumps for long. I’d find some way to make my Christmas special, even if I did have to spend it all by myself. I was already thinking of a gift basket to put together for Margo’s pregnancy sickness. Doing something nice for someone else was a great way to revive the holiday spirit.

  I was internet shopping for said gift basket when applause startled me all of a sudden. I looked over the top of my screen to see Joel and Veronica coming in all smiles, clapping for me.

  “The last time you two came in here in such a good mood, it ended up being awful,” I groaned. “Please tell me you have good news that is actually good this time.”

  “Your article on Palmer,” Joel announced. “It’s one of our top five most popular posts of all time. The numbers on views and shares are...absolutely remarkable.”

  “Oh, good,” I sighed, turning back to my screen.

  “This isn’t just good news, Hazel! This is fantastic news! I thought you’d be happy!”

  “I’m just glad it’s over with,” I confessed. “But...I’m happy that you’re happy, Joel. And of course it always brings me joy when the site is doing well.”

  Joel shot Veronica a disappointed look. “Well, lunch on me for the whole office to celebrate,” he proclaimed, strolling out into the workroom.

  Veronica hung back and took a seat. She pulled up her phone and started to read. “While the Palmer Department Store’s annual display should be a time-honored tradition that we hold dear to our hearts, like any tradition...it can fade and lose it’s meaning, especially when put under too much pressure. Often we try to cling so tightly to the things we love the most that we end up pushing them away.”

  “What’s your point?” I grumbled.

  “Having too high of expectations for a business you love...or Christmas, or family, or even love itself...can ruin everything that’s good about it. Sometimes we have to take a step back and accept all the flaws and imperfections the same way we would triumphs and times of everything working out perfectly. The quiet moments in between of doubt or uncertainty, or even tragic endings, are just as important as the fairytale moments and happily ever afters.”

  “I know what it says, Veronica. I wrote it.”

  “That’s why when we are confronted with opinions a
bout people who would be easy to judge and write off, we should honor their humanity. We should give them the grace of making mistakes and having flaws...because we all do. I wish nothing but joy and prosperity to the Palmer family and their business, and the rest of us should too. All that pressure to be perfect may end up robbing us of all the things they provide us that we take for granted...like the annual display we all show up for and marvel at year after year.”

  She finally put her phone away and stared at me intently. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  “No,” I huffed. “No point. The article is out. Joel and the readers are happy. And I guess I learned a valuable lesson.”

  “That’s real sweet and all, Hazel. But we’ve been working together for two years now, and I can tell when you’re upset.”

  “Yes, I am upset,” I sighed. “But maybe you should read the article again. I’m upset, but I recognize that’s a part of life. I can’t make Chris have feelings for me any more than I can make my family stay home for the holidays. Consider this my control freak, perfectionist rehab moment.”

  “Well, hon...He’s a real idiot if he doesn’t come to his senses and realize what he lost,” she told me. “And if you need somewhere to go for Christmas, you know you’re always welcome with me and my family.”

  “Thanks, Veronica. I really appreciate that. You’re the best. Which reminds me…” I kneeled down to dig through my bag, pulling out a small wrapped box. “This is for you. Merry Christmas.”

  She traced the logo on the paper - a clue to what was inside from her favorite boutique that we often went shopping at on lunch breaks. “You didn’t!” she gasped, remembering the pair of earrings she had been ogling over with me for weeks.

  I simply shrugged and smiled. “I guess you’ll just have to open it up and find out.”