Love, Laughter & Happily Ever After: A sweet romantic comedy collection

by Ellie Hall

  I think about what my sister said during the bus ride to the reindeer farm. Maybe she’s right. Not about Max, of course. She’s dead wrong about him. I don’t want a guy who’s constantly flirting with other women. Sure, he says that it doesn’t mean anything, but what if one day a flirtation led to something more serious? What if he ends up running out on me like my dad ran out on my mom?

  As boring as Carl was, I knew that he never would have flirted with anyone else, let alone cheated on me. My sis may have been right that I should look for an adventurous guy who loves to travel, but Max definitely isn’t that guy.

  “Hey, Max, want to go out for a drink tonight?” Barbie leans across the aisle and puts her hand on his knee.

  Max shakes his head. “Sorry, Zoe and I have plans.”

  Rather than stiffen when Max puts his arm around my shoulder, I snuggle into him, giving Barbie a look that says, “He’s all mine.” Pretend mine, that is. He’ll never be the real mine. I’ll never let that happen.

  When we get to the reindeer farm, Lumi says, “Before we get off the bus, let me tell you a few things about today’s activity. This farm is owned by a Sámi couple. The Sámi are the indigenous inhabitants of Sápmi, what you might know as Lapland. They’re traditionally a semi-nomadic people known for reindeer herding. Normally, their reindeer roam free, but they round them up twice a year.”

  “If everyone lets their reindeer run free, how do they know which ones are theirs?” someone asks from the rear of the bus.

  “They put notches on their ears,” Lumi explains. “Kind of like branding cattle.”

  I turn and see Christopher bouncing in his seat. “How many reindeer do they have?” he asks.

  “Ah, that’s a very good question,” Lumi says. “It’s actually rude to ask the Sámi how many reindeer they own. It would be like asking someone how much money they make.”

  Lumi consults her clipboard, then says, “We’re going to go on a sleigh ride to a kota; that’s a traditional hut. We’ll have grilled sausages there before we return back here.”

  “Can we pet the reindeer?” one of the other kids asks.

  “Even better.” Lumi smiles. “You can feed them.”

  When Max and I get off the bus, Lumi pulls us aside. “It took a lot of convincing to get permission for the two of you to drive one of the sleighs, but I managed to do it. The sleighs are all tied together, so you don’t have to worry about getting off course and crashing again.”

  “You mean they heard about what happened at the dog park?” I ask.

  “Yes, it’s all anyone can talk about in the village.”

  Max and I both look sheepish as we’re led to our assigned sleigh. After we’re seated and reindeer hides are piled on top of us to keep out the chill, I lean into Max.

  He pulls away and folds his arms across his chest. “We’re at the rear. No one can see us back here. We don’t need to pretend right now.”

  “Fine with me,” I say, shifting over to the other side of the seat.

  The sleigh ride should have been fun. Being pulled by reindeer through a snowy meadow is a dream for kids of all ages. Instead, all I can think about is the tension in the air between Max and me. Things were fine between us yesterday. Sure, we were pretending to be a couple, but it wasn’t awkward like this is.

  When we pull up in front of the kota, Lumi jokes, “Congratulations, you didn’t crash.”

  Max slings his arm around me and gives me an adoring look. “Thank goodness. I’d be beside myself if anything happened to the love of my life.”

  Give the man an Academy Award. Lumi looks totally convinced by his performance.

  “Oh, that’s my phone,” I say, pulling it out of my pocket. “It’s Nicole. I wonder what she wants.”

  “You better take that, babe,” Max says. “I’ll meet you inside.”

  “Everything okay?” I ask Nicole.

  “Um, well not exactly,” she says. “It’s about Max.”

  “Is something wrong? He’s not his usual self today.”

  Nicole takes a deep breath. “I suppose I better just come out and say it. Max emailed me his resignation letter last night.”

  My jaw drops. “He did what? Why?”

  “He said he can’t work with you anymore. He said that it wouldn’t be fair of him to put me in the position of choosing between the two of you, so he did the gentlemanly thing and resigned.” Nicole’s voice softens. “Honey, what happened between the two of you?”

  I feel a knot forming in my stomach. Reluctant to tell her about the whole fake relationship, I eventually say, “I don’t know.”

  “Well, just so you know, I told him I couldn’t accept his resignation,” Nicole says. “I asked him to think about it for a few days and that we’d talk after the holidays. You guys have two days left on your trip. Maybe you can convince him to change his mind during that time.”

  “I doubt it, but I’ll do my best,” I say, knowing that one way or another I’ll probably never see Max again after this trip.

  Some Christmas this turned out to be.

  When I join the others in the kota, Max waves me over. “Saved you a spot, babe.”

  My confusion from Nicole’s phone call has morphed into anger. How dare Max make me pretend to me his girlfriend just so that he doesn’t get into trouble with the company because of Barbie? A company that he’s resigning from? If he wants to continue this fake relationship for the next couple of days, I’m going to make sure that I play it for all it’s worth.

  “Thanks, babe,” I say, laying my head on his shoulder. “It was agony being separated for so long.”

  “Agony?” he whispers. “Don’t you think you’re overdoing it?”

  “They’re serving lunch,” I say sweetly. “You wait right here, babe. I’ll get you a plate.”

  “The two of you are such a cute couple,” Christopher’s mom says to me as we wait in line. “How long have you been together?”

  “Honestly, it feels like forever,” I say evasively.

  “That’s the way it is with my husband and I,” she says. “It’s hard not spending Christmas with him, but when you’re married to someone who works offshore you don’t get to spend every holiday together.”

  “That must be hard on Christopher,” I say.

  “It is. That’s why I brought him to Santa’s Village. I thought it would be a good distraction from not having his dad around.” She glances over to where Max is sitting. “The two of you are lucky to be spending Christmas together.”

  “You have no idea,” I say before blowing Max a kiss.

  “What was that about?” Max asks when we leave the kota to go feed the reindeer.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, batting my eyelashes and rubbing his bicep.

  He yanks his arm away. “Why are you being so lovey-dovey?”

  “You wanted everyone to be convinced that I’m your girlfriend. I’m convincing them.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I think you might be overdoing it. I’ll meet you at the barn.”

  As he walks away I call out, “Babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad at me. Come back here and we can kiss and make up.”

  Max spins around, a fake smile plastered on his face, and rushes back to me. “No, I’m sorry, babe. It was my fault,” he says loudly for everyone’s benefit. Then he whispers in my ear, “What did you drink at lunch? Did you put a shot of vodka in your juice?”

  “Just straight-up juice,” I say.

  He looks at me dubiously. “Well, I think you can tone it down. Barbie got the message. She hasn’t tried hitting on me since I told her we were together.”

  “Seriously? Are you blind? She’s been hitting on you constantly. She doesn’t care if you have a girlfriend. She wants you. Period.”

  “We can talk about this later,” Max says.

  Lumi hands us some carrots. “Ready to feed the reindeer?”

  While I walk around the barn, deciding which reindeer to give my carrots to, Max perches
on a bale of hay, pulls out his journal, and starts sketching.

  “I thought that was a secret,” I say.

  He shrugs. “You already know about it. And everyone else is too busy feeding the reindeer to notice.”

  “Why don’t you make drawings from your photos later?”

  “It’s not the same thing. When you’re drawing something from real life, it’s magical.” Max gives an embarrassed laugh. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  I reassure him. “You’re doing fine.”

  “It’s not something you can explain. You have to experience it for yourself.” Max flips through his journal to a blank sheet of paper and hands me a pencil. Pointing at the reindeer in front of us, “Here, why don’t you try it?”

  “Me? I can’t draw.”

  “Anyone can draw. We all learn to do it as kids. Don’t tell me you didn’t have crayons growing up.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t make me an artist.”

  “Nonsense. You’re an artist with words. This is just a different way of expressing yourself. You can learn how to do it.” Max walks behind me and puts his arms on my shoulders. “Take a long look at the reindeer. Now, close your eyes. Take a deep breath, picture the reindeer in your mind, and draw.”

  “With my eyes closed?”

  “Yes, just let go and trust yourself.”

  As I trace the pencil on the paper, I can feel the heat of Max’s body against my back, which is odd because we’re both wearing down jackets and snow pants.

  “Are you picturing the reindeer in your head?” Max asks.

  No, I’m picturing you in my mind. You without a jacket, without a scarf, without a hat, without a shirt . . . Stop it, Zoe. Focus on the antlered creature in front of you.

  Oblivious to the fantasy playing out in my head, Max rubs my shoulders, encouraging me to keep sketching. After a few minutes he removes his hands. “Okay, take a look.”

  I stare at the piece of paper in my hand. “It’s just a bunch of scribbles.”

  “That’s not what I see,” Max says, coming round to sit next to me. “I see the essence of a reindeer.”

  More like the essence of a man without a shirt on, I think to myself.

  Max leans closer to me, and for a moment I think he’s going to kiss me. Then he pulls away abruptly. “I still have some carrots. I should go find a reindeer to give them to.”

  As I watch Max walk over to where Christopher and his mom are standing, I take a deep breath and wonder what just happened. Noticing that Max left his journal lying on the hay bale, I pick it up and wander over to compare my drawing to the reindeer in front of me.

  I lean against the railing of the stall and hold the paper up. “Do you think that looks like you?”

  Before the reindeer can respond, I’m distracted by Christopher and the other kids chanting, “We want Rudolph!”

  When I turn back around, I gasp. The reindeer has Max’s journal in his mouth. “What are you doing? That’s not yours!” I try to yank it away, but the reindeer clamps down even harder. After a prolonged session of tug-of-war, I finally emerge victorious with a slimy journal in my hand.

  I gulp when I see Max striding toward me.

  “What did you do?” he asks, his eyes steely.

  “Nothing,” I say, trying to wipe the reindeer drool off with my scarf.

  He snatches it from my hands. “You’re supposed to feed reindeer carrots, not . . .” His voice trails off as he inspects his journal. “Almost half the pages have teeth marks on them and the other half are covered in saliva.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “It was an accident.”

  “Way to go, babe,” Max says before storming off.

  7

  Babe Overload

  I didn’t dream last night. That’s because I didn’t sleep. I was up all night thinking about that jerk, Max. That man makes me so angry. Actually, I’m angry at myself. It’s not Max’s fault that he’s a jerk. That’s what he is. I’ve known that all along, but stupidly I tried to convince myself that he was something other than what he is.

  I stare at my face in the mirror, trying to cover the dark circles under my eyes with concealer. It doesn’t work. Well, who cares? I’m here to write a story about Santa’s Village, not impress some stupid guy.

  After getting dressed, I look out the window. It’s still dark out, but I can make out fluffy snowflakes falling onto the fir trees. Growing up, my mom would take us to the beach on Christmas Eve, and we’d eat fried chicken while watching the surfers. Spending Christmas Eve in Finland certainly is different—snow, reindeer, and elves.

  I glance at the clock and grin. If I hurry, I’ll actually make it to breakfast on time. Quickly pulling my hair back into a loose bun, I head to the dining room with two minutes to spare. Take that, Max.

  “You look gorgeous, babe,” Max says when I take my seat next to him.

  “Thanks,” I say. “You look great too, babe.”

  I rub my temples. I am so tired of calling Max ‘babe.’

  Max gives me a concerned look. “Do you have a headache, babe?”

  “Nope, I’m fine . . . babe.” I look around the cozy dining room, then point at the straw ornament hanging over the table. “That’s a himmeli. That’s what I learned how to make when you were ice-fishing.”

  “Is it the Finnish equivalent of mistletoe?” Max asks.

  Lumi hears us from across the table. “Oh, you young lovebirds, always looking for an excuse to kiss, aren’t you?”

  Max gives me a knowing look, but before he can take the charade too far, we’re served breakfast.

  “Finns traditionally eat rice porridge at Christmas time,” Lumi explains. “We hide an almond in it and whoever gets it in their bowl will have good fortune.”

  Christopher looks at his bowl and scowls. “Can’t I have regular cereal instead?”

  His mom smiles. “Try some. Maybe you’ll find the almond.”

  “Yum,” Christopher says after taking a hesitant bite.

  I have to agree, it is yum, probably because of all the butter, sugar, and cinnamon swirled in the bowl.

  “I found it,” Max cried out, doing a fist pump in the air. He holds up the almond and shows everyone.

  “Congratulations, you’ll have good fortune.”

  Max pops the almond in his mouth and looks at me. “How could my fortune be any better? I already have the best girl in the world.”

  Seriously? And he thought I was over-the-top pretending to be his fake girlfriend yesterday? This performance of his is gag-worthy. I put my napkin on the table and push back my chair. “You know what, babe, I do have a headache after all. I think I’m going to go lie down.”

  I can’t believe it’s come down to this—faking a headache so that I don’t have to fake being in love.

  I avoid Max for the rest of the day, refusing to answer the phone when he calls and putting the pillow over my head to drown out the noise of him knocking on my door. When it’s time for dinner, I text Max, telling him that I still have a headache, then order room service.

  Just as I’m about to dig into my dessert—a cake made with wheat and almond flour, and flavored with ginger and cardamom—my phone rings. When I see that it’s Nicole calling, guilt washes over me. Staying in my room all day is the height of unprofessionalism. How am I supposed to write an article about Christmas in Santa’s Village when I’ve missed out on the Christmas Eve activities?

  “I’m sorry,” I say to Nicole. “I have no excuse for my behavior.”

  “What are you talking about?” she says.

  “Isn’t that why you called?”

  “No, I called because I was worried about you. Max said that you’ve been sick all day. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

  I push back my dessert plate and slump in my chair. How can I enjoy cake when I’m nothing but a big fat liar? “I’m not sick,” I say. “Just sick of Max.”

  “Sick of Max? But how? When I talked to him, he said that things were goin
g well between you.”

  “Well?” I scoff. “Have I passed the fake girlfriend test?”

  “Zoe, what’s going on?” Nicole says slowly.

  I tell her everything—how Max wanted us to pretend that we were a couple, the almost kiss in the ice hotel, the mixed messages Max kept sending me, and how much I hate calling someone “babe.”

  “Okay, let me see if I can get this straight,” Nicole says. “Max told you I would fire him if someone else complained about him flirting?”

  “Uh-huh, because of what happened in Sri Lanka.”

  Nicole laughs. “Wow, I have to give him points. Making up that whole story sure was one creative way of hooking up with you.”

  “Hang on a minute.” I take a huge bite of the cake, hoping it will smother the anger bubbling up inside me. It does. Cake to the rescue again. Feeling a bit calmer, I say, “Basically, Max lied. This was all some sort of joke on his part like the thing with the hedgehog. He thought it would be funny to watch me pretend to be his girlfriend.”

  “Zoe, what am I going to do with you?” Nicole asks. “How can you not see what’s right in front of your face? Max wants you to be his girlfriend for real, he just doesn’t know how to go about it.”

  “Do you really think so?” When I realize that my voice just cracked, I shovel down some more cake.

  “Yes, and you want to know what else I think? I think you want to be his girlfriend for real too. Think about it, okay?” Nicole says. “And, try to have a Merry Christmas.”

  After wishing Nicole a Merry Christmas, I stare at my empty plate for what seems like hours. Is it possible that my sister and Nicole are right? Do Max and I belong together?

  I look at the clock and sigh. I have an idea, but it’s too late to put it into action. But tomorrow morning, first thing, I’m heading to Elf Central. Maybe they can help me fix things.

  8

  The Case of the Missing Elves