Christmas Day has died down, and now, it is time to have some fun.
Perhaps, you might consider these two little holiday romantic comedies:
"I don't believe it." Hands on hips, I stood in front of the large, white tent. No happy shoppers bustled in and out. No All I Want For Christmas is You blasting from a boom box. No holiday cheer at all.
Instead, I found under the same ol' Axel's Christmas Trees neon sign, which wasn't flashing, a notice, which looked to be hastily printed and stuck on the tent flap with gray duct tape: Closed. Heart attack. And as an afterthought: Pray.
I shook my head, saying to the nippy wind whipping my hair, "Poor Axel. This is horrible. Where will the funds for the Sommerville Hospital come from?"
My stomach kinked into a hard knot as I hugged my tote to my waist. I'd been buying my Christmas tree here since...forever. Definitely since I was a blossoming idea in my parents' mind. Mom and Dad brought my brother and me to Axel's the first Saturday in December every year for the family tree. Who could forget the ensuing arguments over the perfect one—Mom usually won—and the joy of trimming it.
All grown up, I continued the tradition. Axel had the most beautiful trees. The stand benefited the hospital; this year, the children's cancer wing where his grandson had undergone treatment for leukemia. He always-always-always stashed aside a seven-foot Fraser fir for me. Nothing spelled Christmas better than a fresh, North Carolina Fraser fir.
Now what do I do? Where do I go? Should I call Axel's son and see if he needs anything?
Find "Twinkle Lights" at:
MuseItUp Publishing - http://bit.ly/1e8Nioy
Amazon - http://bookshow.me/B00AJ07Y8M
B&N - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/twinkle-lights-vicki-batman/1114304787?ean=2940044263116
Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/276648
"I am not entering this year." I pinned an unbreakable stare on Bethany, my long-time friend. We were piddling over coffee in her cubical like we always did before getting to the nuts and bolts of company business. "Period."
"Why not, Samantha? You should be proud to be the five-time winner of the Great Fruitcake Bake-off. You're a legend."
"Is being a legend in the fruitcake world a good thing? It's exhausting finding the perfect recipe, then bake and exhibit it. Besides, shouldn't somebody else win?"
Bethany's fists went to her hips. "Sam, we're talking fruitcake. It's not groundbreaking like, like the Declaration of Independence or...the Pyramids."
"I'm shocked to hear you say that. Fruitcake is the cake of all time. It dates to--"
She bobbed her head. "To the sixteenth century."
I raised my finger. "It gets a bad--"
"Rap." She sighed a soul searching blow of breath. "You always say that. You also always say you love participating; yet, you're not defending your title this year."
"I've used up all of Grammie's recipes."
"You could start over with the first confection you entered five years ago, couldn't you?"
"It seems like cheating...in a weird way. And I don't cheat."
"You are a shining example of excellent values." Bethany drummed her fingers from the littlest to the index and considered. "I've got it! Why not check online and find a recipe?"
"They don't call you brainchild for nothing." I rubbed a finger along the divot below my lower lip. A tiny speck of excitement blossomed within me. "I'll need a brand new fruitcake. I wouldn't want to be like Crazy Wanda who enters the same freakin' lump of dough every freakin' year."
"It never hurts to expand your repertoire, even if it's by collecting fruitcake recipes."
Find "The Great Fruitcake Bake-off" at:
MuseItUp Publishing: http://bit.ly/HXeo7h
Amazon – http://amzn.to/IIvfuW
B&N – http://bit.ly/1cXWLOA
Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/378457
And here's wishing you a
Very Happy New Year!