Page 13 of A Curvy Carol

We began looking around, shelves and shelves surrounding us. Whit’s eyes immediately lit up at all the trinkets and things filling the shelves. He picked up a delicate snowflake ornament. “Wow.” He set it gently back on the shelf. “Where do they find all of this stuff?”

I watched as he studied another intricate ornament. This one was a beautiful gingerbread man, complete with incredibly realistic gumdrop buttons. “A lot of it is handmade, actually,” I explained. “Some of it’s made by the owners of the shop, Mr. and Mrs. Curran, but most of it is made by local artisans.”

We continued walking, and Whit stayed perpetually in awe of everything in the store. I realized it was fun seeing it through his eyes.

“This has to be my favorite thing on the list yet,” he murmured. “I mean, I wouldn’t even know what to pick.”

Mrs. Curran saw us and walked over. “Carolynn, how are you? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

I waved. “Hi, Mrs. Curran, I’m good. How about you?”

“Just fine, dear, thank you for asking. Still cross-stitching and crocheting every minute you can?”

I smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

She grinned back, her smile making her eyes crinkle. “That’s nice. You know I’m always looking for unique pieces. And I pay good prices.”

“That’s sweet, but I don’t usually make Christmas items,” I replied.

She patted my shoulder. “Well, if you ever do, you know where to find me.”

I nodded, and she turned to Whit. “And who’s this?”

“This is my...” I wasn’t sure if we qualified as friends, so I stuttered out, “This is Whit. He’s new in town. His parents bought the lodge.”

Her face lit up. “Welcome to Garland, dear. I hope you’re liking it?”

Whit nodded enthusiastically. “I really am. I’ve never experienced any place like it. It really is magical like everyone says.”

That made Mrs. Curran smile. “That’s good to hear, dear.” She raised her finger like she’d just remembered something. “You know, we have something special this year. Let me show you.”

She led us toward the register, where a snow globe sat on a display. I’d seen plenty of snow globes around Garland before, so I wondered what was different about this one.

Mrs. Curran picked it up and shook it, making snowflakes fall over the figures inside. “Custom-made snow globes.” She handed it to Whit, who took it carefully in his large hands. “Wow,” he repeated. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Inside stood a beautiful family with a snowman. The level of detail was insane, from the little boy's snowy mittens to the crooked carrot for the snowman’s nose.

“How is it so realistic?” I asked.

“We can take a picture and use our 3D printer to make a miniature replica.”

Whit shook the globe, holding on to it tight.

Snow fell all around the family, and for a second, I pictured me and my family inside, back when I was little and we were still together.

Whit met my gaze, and offered the glob to me. I shook my head, so he handed the globe back.

“I bet it makes the perfect gift,” I said, still entranced.

After that, we kept looking around the store. We finally left, decked out in “Garland, ME” shirts, keychains, and beanies. Whit had also gotten the gingerbread ornament he’d seen. “My parents will love this,” he said, bag in hand. A small part of me felt jealous that he only had to bring the gift to one place. That he didn’t have to sit through two Christmas dinners, open presents in two different places.

As we got to Cider Center, I checked the time on my phone. It was getting late. The day had been a whirlwind, in a good way, which was surprising. “I should start heading home,” I said. We’d come to a stop in front of the Garland Christmas tree, which sparkled with lights against the dusky backdrop of town.

Whit’s gaze turned from the tree to me. “This was the best day,” he said, and something in my chest fluttered. “Thanks a lot for showing me around. Hopefully, you didn’t suffer too much.”

I smiled. “It wasn’t too terrible.”

It’d actually been kind of cool experiencing Garland with Whit, who’d never done these things before. It was like I had a new appreciation for some of the things I’d grown to dread the last few years.