by C. E. Wilson
“Oh no,” she squeaked. “Did I do something wrong?”
“What?” Carter looked incredulous.
“She told me about Ethel. I swear I didn’t ask, Carter. I mean I did, but I didn’t mean to!”
“No, no, that’s not it either. Brynne, relax.” He gently set one of his large hands over her lap and rubbed the outside of her thigh with his thumb as he searched her eyes. “Relax, Brynne. Breathe.” He smoothed his thumb up and down the thin fabric covering her legs until she was visibly settled. “You’re working yourself up over nothing. Brynne, I told you my Aunt Heather loves you. And if she already told you about Ethel? Then you’re in. But that’s not what I was going to say.”
Brynne still looked worried. “O-oh?”
“I was going to say, I’m happy you’re here with Aunt Heather and Uncle Jeremy. I couldn’t stand the idea of you staying in that tiny shack by yourself all winter. And I think if you want to, Brynne, you could be happy with us.”
“I think so too.”
“That doesn’t mean that we’re going to give up on finding your family.”
Brynne folded her arms over the edge of his lap. “Yes, I know,” she said thoughtfully.
“Uncle Jeremy and Aunt Heather are great, but please know, this is by no means meant to replace your family. We will find them again.”
“Thank you.” Her voice trembled, still almost numb to the news about her family. So much had happened so quickly that she hadn’t had time to really comprehend that they were gone. It was probably best that way.
Sometimes being numb was the safest way to be.
“I think this place feels like a home. Even if it’s not mine...” She blushed and buried her face into his jeans. “Besides, it doesn’t matter because I get that same feeling of home when I’m around you now.”
Carter flushed like wildfire. “Really,” he breathed.
“Really.”
“Oh man…”
“What?” Brynne started to lift her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird again—”
“Oh no! It’s nothing you did. I never thought for a second that I would make such progress with you. You’re so cute and I’m just...” he trailed off with a smirk, “... well, I know I’m not ugly, but still.” He lifted his hand away from her thigh so he could run his fingers through her fluffy, brown locks a few times, starting at the crown and drifting to the small of her back. It didn’t take much to explore the entire length. “I know this sounds weird, but I don’t think you know how much it means to me that you trust me like you do. I’ve seen the way others look at you, and I’ve seen the way you look at other people. I’m honored.” He trailed off, unsure of how he wanted to finish the statement so instead he smiled. “I’m honored, okay? And once again, I’m glad you feel like this could be a home because it’s yours now. You’ll be lucky if Aunt Heather ever lets you go now that you’ve agreed to let her make clothes for you.”
Brynne shook her head in disbelief, then rolled over onto her back so her head was on the edge of his leg. She stared straight up at him fearlessly.
“That’s hardly something to complain about,” she mused, groping down for part of his hand to hold with her own much tinier one.
“Heh, that’s true,” Carter said with a distant look on his face. “You really are an elf,” he muttered with a hint of wonder.
“How observant you are,” Brynne said dryly, raising her eyebrow.
“It’s so hard to think that...” he trailed off, growing red.
Brynne stiffened. “To think what?” she asked hesitantly.
“To think you’re real sometimes,” he muttered. “I mean, l-look, your hand barely covers my finger.” To prove his point, he flexed his hand, bringing her entire arm along with it. “I mean, don’t you think this is a little strange sometimes?” He flushed. He hadn’t meant to bring up their differences like this, but his mind refused to cooperate. Their differences had to be mentioned. Rather now than later.
“Everything over the last few days has been strange to me,” Brynne said in a low voice. She started to pull her hand away, and Carter clamped his thumb down on it.
“Sorry, it takes some getting used to, I guess.” He tried to shrug it off.
Brynne raised her eyebrows coolly at the sight of her own hand engulfed by a pair of fingers.
“Tell me about it.” She waited for a response from him, but none was forthcoming. She passed some time looking at the pattern of his fingerprint as the silence grew. It spoke volumes.
He still had doubts. It didn’t take a fool to see that.
“I’m so tired, I might fall asleep right here.” Brynne finally said after a few minutes, arching her back to wheel her feet back underneath her. She cast her gaze around the bed, past the edge of Carter’s lap. “I still can’t believe this whole thing is for me. It’s even bigger than you!”
“Heh,” Carter said with a light chuckle, momentarily forgetting his worries about being attracted to an elf. “It should be bigger than me so I can sleep in it comfortably. And! You’re not going to sleep. Not yet. We still have to watch a movie.”
“Really?” Brynne yawned. “I’m so tired. I’m sure you’re tired too—”
“There’s something about Christmas that keeps me energized.” Without thinking, he looped his hands around her waist and hoisted her to the top of the bed rested her against the pillow. “That’s got to be better, right?”
“Oh! Yes.”
“Oh man,” he said, “I completely forgot to ask. I dunno. It’s easier to move you. I hope that’s okay?” He smiled tentatively as there was a light knock on the door.
“Water and tea,” Heather said happily, holding up a large tray. She walked over to the bed and set it down. “I found some of my demitasse cups,” she said cheerily as she pointed out a steaming mug to Brynne. “I always like a cup of tea before bed. Decaffeinated, of course. Can’t let you get hyper before bed. It’s a light tea, Brynne. I think you’ll like it.”
“Thanks, Aunt Heather,” Carter said, relieved for the change of subject as he reached for the larger of the two mugs. “Smells like Christmas. Peppermint?”
“Candy cane, actually,” Heather said with a wink. “I can’t resist buying holiday themed everything. I think I even used candy cane flavored milk.”
“They’re still making it?”
“I’m still buying it.” Heather shrugged. “I can’t help it.”
“Candy cane milk?” Brynne exclaimed. She looked up with a shocked expression on her face. “I can’t even imagine.”
“Wait till you see what Aunt Heather does on Christmas eve,” Carter said, sipping from his mug before his smile became a bit sad at the edges, realizing that she couldn’t imagine. Her Christmases back in the elf slum couldn’t have been very merry, not in that small cold shack where a scrap of croissant was a treat beyond imagining.
After Heather said her good nights and good byes, Brynne sat snugly at the top of the bed, wondering if this was what princesses felt like. She had changed into a nightgown that was warm and soft (and a little bit large). The tea she sipped at soothed her to the pit of her belly, and Carter was nestled nearby while a movie with a grouchy old man who was haunted by ghosts played on the TV mounted to the wall. As her eyelids drew heavier, Brynne scooted closer to Carter’s side and before drifting off, she planted a grateful kiss to the side of his face, just below his right eye. She then crawled back to her pillow, curled up under the covers and was soon asleep.
Carter lay there for some time, thinking about that kiss. Kisses with Brynne were enjoyable and awkward. Beautiful and rushed. As though they were both afraid of what the next kiss could mean. But with this one, Carter felt Brynne’s confidence. She was growing more secure with herself as she grew more secure in his world. When he was certain she was asleep, he finally found the courage to turn over on his side and look at her.
“You really are a Christmas Elf,” he breathed, more comfortable voicing how he
truly felt to deaf ears. A tentative finger reached up and brushed aside some fallen locks from her forehead so he could get a good look at her. There was no denying what she was. Brynne Mirren was an elf, but that didn’t detract from her beauty. In fact, it might have enhanced it. She was beautiful and kind and delicate – everything he wanted in a girl. She was just small. That was the only mark against her, and as he stared into her face, he came to a realization. He didn’t care what the world would think. He was attracted to her. The sight of her sleeping peacefully ignited his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
“I know I said I’d only stay until you fell asleep,” he said, nuzzling closer to her on top of the blankets, “but hopefully you won’t mind if I stay a little longer.” He lay next to her for a few minutes, listening to her peaceful breathing. When he felt his eyelids growing heavy, he leaned into her and gently brushed the top of her head with his lips.
“Good night,” he breathed, then he carefully stood and stumbled off to his own room.
Chapter Sixteen
The next few days passed in a happy blur. She would wake up refreshed in the early morning and eat a quick breakfast with a jovial Jeremy and Heather and a grumbling, sleepy-eyed Carter. Then they would go to Sweet Mix and start working hours before the sun came up.
Jeremy churned out bread and muffins and cakes and scones like a machine, while Brynne glazed and decorated and Carter took care of the front of house. Brynne quickly found that she loved the work. For once, her size was an advantage instead of a detriment, and her intricately decorated cupcakes and tarts were a hit. She worked hard, and soon she and Jeremy would share secret looks every time Carter wandered back to complain about how tired he was.
After a hard day’s work, they would go back to Jeremy’s house where Heather would be waiting with another delicious meal. When dinner ended, they would all sit in the living room in front of the fire and tell stories until Jeremy went to bed. Then Carter and Brynne would go back to her room and watch movies until they couldn’t keep their eyes open.
This pattern continued until the night of the twenty-third. That evening Jeremy paused on his way to bed and looked back at Brynne and Carter.
“I’m going in extra early tomorrow. I want you two to stay here and help Heather get ready for the party. She needs the company more than the help, I think, so you can sleep in if you want. In any event, I’ll see you both tomorrow night, unless my customers riot and burn down my shop when I don’t have any of Brynne’s cupcakes. Good night.” He shuffled off to bed and Heather soon followed.
That night Carter and Brynne watched a black and white movie with a tall guy who was rescued by his guardian angel, a story that Brynne found particularly relevant. Still, she couldn’t stay awake for the whole movie and fell asleep near the end.
This was one of Carter’s favorite films so he stayed until the very last frame even though his eyes could barely focus. When it finally ended, he rolled onto his side to check the time on the alarm clock, but never made it past the first digit before he was snoring softly.
The following morning, Brynne was roused by the delightful aromas of baking sweet breads, cobblers and cookies. Even though her faith in Santa Claus had been dashed many years ago, she found it entirely possible that the big man in red was a distant relative of Carter’s Uncle Jeremy. She rolled over with a sigh, not able to recall the last time she had woken up so warm or refreshed. So often, the bitter winter nights would keep her up for many miserable hours into the night and she would wake up half-frozen in the morning, her hands and feet numb from the cold.
This Christmas Eve she felt like a million candy canes.
But before she could smile fully, she realized that there was a wall of roaring red flannel filling her vision and blinked.
“Carter?”
The wall did not respond, so she climbed around the mountainous pillows, slid down the last bit with a bounce on the mattress and came to a halt by his resting arm. She cocked her head at him in silent amusement as a low snore escaped.
“Psst! Carter!” She pushed at his arm gently at first, then a little harder. “Carter, wake up.”
A romantic thought formed in her head. She climbed over his arm and got closer, leaned in with puckered lips, and prepared to kiss him awake like something out of a fairytale.
And that was the precise moment Carter rolled over.
“Mrph! Carter!”
Blinking, he sat up and looked around. “Huh? What? Who’s talking?”
“Down here! You almost crushed me!”
He suddenly remembered where he was and he looked down to find Brynne crouching at the edge of the bed, eying him warily.
“Brynne, are you okay? What happened?”
She drew herself up. “Nothing, don’t worry about it. I’m sorry for waking you.”
“What were you doing?” he asked. “Did you need something?”
“No, no I don’t need anything. I was just… good morning, Carter.” She couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Sorry if I scared you,” he breathed, shifting his hand so he could brush his knuckles up and down the length of her slender arm. “What were you doing on my side of the bed? And so close to my face? You’re lucky I didn’t accidentally push you over.” He bit his lower lip. He really could have hurt her accidentally.
“I was – I w-was... Uh....” Brynne stammered nervously, staring up at him with bright pink cheeks. “I was trying to wake you up. I didn’t think you’d...” She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to shake off the embarrassment. “I guess I forgot how small I was for a second.”
“That’s probably something you shouldn’t forget when you’re sleeping so close to me. I didn’t even feel you, Brynne.” He shook his head and sat up straighter in bed when he noticed her defeated expression. “You sure I didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Carter said, leaning down to brush the back of his hand to her forehead. “You don’t seem warm. It’s surprising that you don’t get sick more often being in the cold all the time. Why, if I was you—”
“Would it be wrong to forget?”
Carter stopped talking as soon as the question spilled from Brynne’s lips and he noticed her fists were balled up. “W-what?” he choked out.
“Would it be wrong to forget?” she tried again, lowering her eyes. “What I am, I mean. You said I shouldn’t forget. Would it be so terrible if we did, sometimes? I mean, I’m pretty aware that I’m an elf. I kinda thought you didn’t only see me as that.”
Carter frowned as he tried to make sense of her worries. “But you are an elf,” he said, wishing he were more awake. “I can’t forget, you know? And neither should you.” He leaned in closer as her fists began to unfurl. “Unless that’s something you want?”
“I thought you said I was different. Different than another one of Santa’s Rejects on the street.”
“Of course you’re more than—”
“I told you how things change for me when I’m around you.” Brynne stepped up to him and skated a hand along his chin. There was the barest hint of stubble. “Would it be so bad to pretend we were the same? Just for a little while?”
Carter’s eyes softened. “Maybe for a little while,” he said in a low voice. Leaning forward those extra few inches, he pressed his lips to hers. “Just not while I’m sleeping, okay? I’d be upset if I hurt you while I’m sleeping. I don’t even know what I do when I’m not awake.”
“You snore,” Brynne said, poking him in the nose. “Loudly.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Carter flushed. “That’s probably not a lot of fun for you. Heh, I know my family says it all the time, but, it still kinda sucks to hear you say it.” He laughed as he lifted Brynne off the quilt and stood her in his lap. The two grinned as Carter wrapped both hands around either side of her face and she balanced on his thighs. He smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks and kissed her again. “Alright
, then. I’ll make a deal with you. Promise me you’ll be extra careful when I’m sleeping and I promise to uh, dammit.”
“What?”
“I was going to say that I would promise to stop snoring, but I’m not exactly sure how I should go about doing that.” He laughed and leaned forward as she ran her hand across his jaw. “I need to shave. Hope I’m not too sharp for you.”
Brynne’s happiness faltered. Carter’s morning stubble actually reminded her of her father. Memories of him coming home from a long day’s work. Honest work that paid regularly and made him happy. She’d leap in his arms and run her fingers through his scruffy beard… this was not the time to be thinking about it. There would be plenty of time to dwell on her family later. She was safe and well-fed in a human house, being held by a human boy who liked her. She realized that she was still staring at his chin and she shook her head and smiled. Carter leaned forward and kissed her and she melted against him.
“It’s Christmas Eve,” he reminded her.
“So it is,” she finally murmured. “And if it’s Christmas Eve, I guess they are going to expect us for breakfast soon? I don’t want your Aunt Heather to walk in on us doing this again.”
Carter sniffed the air. “I do smell baked goods,” he said.
“So what does that mean?”
“It means that my uncle made something before he went to work. When Aunt Heather is ready for breakfast, the air will start to smell like coffee and bacon.”
“Bacon?” Brynne didn’t mean for her voice to come out as an excited squeak. “She’s going to make bacon for breakfast?”
“On Christmas Eve? Of course she is.” He shook his head, pulling her closer. He couldn’t get enough of her. “Not to mention she has a beautiful elf staying in her guest bedroom. I wouldn’t be surprised if she made bacon, pancakes, eggs and buttermilk biscuits.”
Brynne’s eyes widened. “Sounds divine.”
Carter smirked again. “Divine?” he whispered into her hair in a teasing manner. “I’m kissing you and you call bacon and pancakes divine. I’m a little insulted, Brynne,” he said with a laugh. “Merry Christmas Eve, by the way. I think this one is going to be a little different than the ones you’re used to.”