Page 16 of A Curvy Carol

We stayed and chit-chatted a little more. I spotted a cross-stitch hanging above her mantel that said Merry Christmas in fancy cursive print. I pointed to it inquisitively as we walked into the living room. It looked like some of the things I’d seen in Carolynn’s bag, but she didn’t like to do Christmas designs.

Mrs. Sanderson’s eyes crinkled when she smiled, and it reminded me of my own grandmother. She was visiting us after the Christmas rush at the lodge died down. “Carolynn made me that lovely piece,” Mrs. Sanderson told me with a smile. “Last year. I get compliments on it all the time.”

My eyebrows drew together as I gave Carolynn a questioning look. I thought she didn’t like Christmas. And she didn’t act like the type to go around making Christmas presents for little old ladies in town. Was this just another one of her yearly traditions with her parents, or was there a side to Carolynn I hadn't yet seen?

Carolynn’s cheeks flushed as she turned to Mrs. Sanderson. “I’m glad you love it.”

After that, we headed back into town. “Feeling like a hot chocolate?” Carolynn asked me.

I looked at her in surprise. “I thought you didn’t like hot chocolate, Christmas Carol,” I teased.

She shrugged. “I’m in the mood for one today.”

“Okay,” I said with a grin. It was cold out, so a steaming hot mug of anything in my hands sounded great. “That was nice of you, by the way, to make her that cross-stitch.”

“I liked making it for her,” Carolynn said. “I’m actually working on something else for her this year that I’m hoping Santa can deliver.”

We kept walking and chatting, and the more we did, the more I realized Carolynn really had a soft heart under that seemingly hard exterior. She was funny too.

I also couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever come out of her shell long enough to be more than just a friend.

We’d only met a couple days ago, but there was something special about her.

The day before, there had been a special moment between us, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it had been a fluke.

Or the start of something more.

9

CAROLYNN

So far, we’d been successful crossing six items off our list. Not bad for a couple of days. At this rate, we’d be done in no time.

For some reason, that made my chest feel a little weird, but I ignored the feeling and reminded myself the sooner we got this over with, the sooner I could have the peaceful Christmas I wanted.

Whit gave me a wave. “Hey, Christmas Carol.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hey, Whit.” I needed to come up with a nickname for him too, but nothing came to mind at the moment.

“Ready to build a prize-winning snowman?” he asked.

Today was the annual Garland snowman building competition. Just like the star lighting ceremony each year at Cider Center, this was a pretty big deal.

People didn’t just stack three snowballs together, add a carrot, and call it a day. They really went above and beyond and created art from the snow.

I used to get really excited about the competition as a kid, when Mom, Dad, and I would go for the gold each year but never placed despite my best efforts. Now it was just another thing we did together every Christmas that I dreaded because now my parents alternated years, and it was always awkward going back to the parent who didn’t participate and telling them about it.

Something told me this year would be different.

Whit was different.

We looked around. People had all sorts of tools, supplies, and props with them and were taking up residence at the different plots within the park. We didn’t have any specialty equipment. Which meant we’d probably get beat out. I should have asked Dad for some of his tools.

Whit seemed to read my mind. “Don’t let all the fancy stuff fool you,” he said. “I think we can come up with something really good without any of that.”

I looked at him. “What do you think we should do?” All of a sudden, I felt really lame and unprepared, like we should’ve given this some thought ahead of time.

He glanced at my crafting bag. “How about something with a cross-stitch design?” he asked.