“That’s not bad. It’ll be fine.”
He put in a CD of Bryan Adams Christmas songs he’d made and escaped into the fantasy world of Christmas carols: simple lives, cheerful people, and wonderful friends. He didn’t have many friends, if you could even call his local bowling teamfriends. He spent his time designing web pages from the comfort of his home. He didn’t get out much. After he hit thirty, things changed. The bars didn’t call to him anymore, and he hated the club scene. He was a homebody. He just wished he had someone to share it with. There was a large bear community, but he was just too scared to take the plunge. Ciaran knew he’d find a nice guy if he just tried. Work consumed him. The last decade flew by, and now, in his mid-thirties, he wasn’t sure how to date anymore.
A small lit billboard readThistle: Home Away From Home. His jaw dropped at the sight of the main road leading into Thistle. People decorated every shop for the holidays. It was out of a movie. He’d seen nothing like it before. It was…breathtaking.
Ciaran parked on the street and got out. He looked at his watch. It was only one. He had two hours before his check-in at The Bear’s Den. This was a perfect opportunity to see the village.
He walked down the street, marveling at the intricate decorations. A shop that sold toys displayed marionettes and a train set that held a striking resemblance to Thistle. The owners must have had them custom-made.
He entered the shop to get a closer look at the train set.
The model had beautiful details. He found the toy shop on the model. Houses filled the outside of the main streets, which held shops, a gas station, a library, and two schools.
“Hello there,” a plump man said. He was wearing red pants and a shirt, with white suspenders. “How can I help you?”
“I’m passing through on my way to The Bear’s Den, and your shop caught my eye,” Ciaran said. “I noticed the train set display. Is that what Thistle looks like?”
“It sure is,” the man gave a jolly laugh. “I should know. I’ve lived here sixty years, and I built that set myself.”
“You built it?”
“I sure did,” he smiled. “I’m Nicholas, the toy maker.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Ciaran said, shaking hands. “Also, Nicholas the toy maker? That’s very on the nose.”
“It is.” Nicholas tapped the side of his nose and winked.
Ciaran laughed.
“The set is beautiful.”
“It’s for sale,” Nicholas said.
“I wish I had a way to get it home,” he said. “It looks fragile, and I’m afraid the long drive will damage it.”
“It’s a sturdy piece, but I understand. If you change your mind, let me know.”
“I will.”
Ciaran browsed the shop and bought a deck of cards for his nephew, a small porcelain doll for his niece, and a puzzle for each of them. These were stocking stuffers. He wanted to get something special for them to put under the tree.
Nicholas wrapped them for him and even put labels on.
He thanked Nicholas and headed back on the road to The Bear’s Den.
He left the holiday village, turning onto a dirt road that headed further into the mountain. The sun glistened off the snow, giving it an ethereal aura.
He passed the sign for the bed-and-breakfast.
“Finally,” Ciaran said to himself. “I just want to take a nice hot shower and relax.”
He came upon a two-story log-cabin-style home. It was gorgeous. The yard had a sign:The Bear’s Den: A safe place for big guys and their admirers.
“Cute.”
Ciaran walked through the freshly shoveled path to the door.
He tried to open the door, but it was locked. He looked at his watch. It was five minutes after two. They should be open.
