“Your Christmas wish.” Santa gave him a come-on gesture, like a boxer egging on his opponent. “Let’s go. Wish. Wishy. Wish. Wishers. Anytime now.”
Micah glanced down at Lizzie, who looked up at him with an open expression of trust and excitement.
“Do it, Dad. Make a wish.” She encouraged him.
Micah’s brain went blank. “Uh, I guess if I had a Christmas wish, it would be for the perfect Christmas for Lizzie.”
Santa threw both arms out to the side just as a massive gust of wind came up behind him and plastered snow on Micah’s face. He closed his eyes for a moment to block the snow. Jingle bells rang out all around them. His eyes flew open, and Santa was gone.
What in the world?
Lizzie swiped the snow off her face and laughed. She bent down and pretended to pick up a ball she held in front of her. “Can we have hot chocolate?”
Micah nodded. “And then I need to sleep.” He paused for a moment, thinking about the strange turn of events. “Are we even awake now?”
Lizzie stomped on his foot. Pins and needles shot through his toes.
“Ow!” He scowled at her. “What was that for?”
“To prove you’re awake,” she replied innocently. “I would have pinched you, but it’s impossible to pinch when you’re wearing mittens.” She held her hands up and moved them like a lobster moved its claws.
His pinkie toe throbbed. “Sometimes you’re too smart for my own good.”
She giggled. “Da-addy.”
Micah limped a few steps before the pain subsided. It was probably worse because he was cold. This whole morning was proof that Christmas–and all the hoopla–was not worth it. Lizzie slipped her hand in his, and he sighed.
Christmas might not be worth it, but Lizzie was worth all this and more.
He’d keep doing Christmas for her.
ChapterThree
One week after Black Friday, Charlotte wandered up and down the grocery store aisles, hoping for inspiration. Cooking for one took a lot of creativity. If she made a normal-sized meal, with four to six servings, she’d eat the same thing for a week. If she snacked throughout the day, she’d feel blah and unsatisfied.
The last week was a blur of Merry Christmases and shipping labels. She’d hired seasonal workers, several of her mom’s friends who wanted a little cash to spoil their grandchildren during the holidays, and they moved like an army to fill online orders. Running her shop would be impossible without them.
She also had two delivery drivers–local teens who wanted lighter schedules during the school year but worked hard throughout December. The arrangement was perfect for them as they could play soccer and mountain bike when her business was slower.
Four semi-retired cashiers helped upfront. They had assigned shifts but were constantly trading to accommodate their families. She didn’t care as long as the shift was covered. All four of them worked hard and took joy in the items they sold. New product arrival days were more like unwrapping parties as they exclaimed over the elf figurines or the intricate glass-blown ornaments.
Her wish floated along beside her. When she’d pass someone, it would drop behind her and come back up. “Let’s try the produce section,” she mumbled, as if it would have an interest in bell peppers. She glanced up from her phone to ensure she didn’t run into anyone as she navigated to the recipe site Valerie sent her last week.
Overhead, “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” played through the speakers just loud enough to be heard. She stood in front of the shiny red apple display as she surfed dinner ideas and tapped her foot to the beat.
Suddenly, a flash of light appeared, and her wish flew off. Startled, Charlotte dropped her phone. It landed in her purse, sitting in the cart. Her wish slammed into another ball of light and bounced off, hitting a pyramid of oranges and spilling them across the floor. The sound was loud and drew attention.
The woman closest to her gasped and covered her heart. “What in tarnation?!” she yelled. “There’s a bird in here!”
“Oh no,” Charlotte whispered, unsure of what was happening and if there was anything she could do about it. Two wishes? Nick said hers was one of a kind.
The wishes slammed together again, making her cringe. This time they hit the bread shelf and ran along the front, dropping loaves to the ground before they separated—a teenager dove behind the berry display case.
Panicked shoppers ducked to the floor. Charlotte watched the wishes, her eyes darting faster and faster as they picked up speed. Her eyes locked on the only other person still standing–a little girl in a purple coat. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Wishy, stop!”
Okay, well, that explained where the other wish came from.
The wishes flew into the banana tree, where bunches of bananas hung from hooks. They ricochetted inside of it like ping-pong balls, bouncing off one another and the tree itself. Charlotte headed that way, hoping to intercept her wish and keep it from bruising produce.
