“What’s the schedule for today since we’re leaving at sunrise?” she asked.
“I figure it’ll take an hour to get to Hunniwell Farms and get your trailer hooked up. Then it’ll be another three hours to Drumheller. Are you okay to drive for that long, or should we schedule a break?”
She laughed. “I can do three hours on my head. Try driving from Edmonton to Waterton National Park with only a stop to fill the tank when you weren’t allowed to leave the car. My family rocked long road trips when I was a kid.”
He scoffed in return. “That’s only, what, five and a half hours? Try Timmins to Toronto. Over seven hours in the back seat with two teenaged brothers eating nothing but barbecued peanuts.”
Mattie looked impressed. “Okay, so we’re both good with a tiny little drive to Drumheller.”
“We should get there just before noon. That should give us time to have lunch before Dave the Magnificent wows and thrills the crowd this afternoon.”
“Where is Dave the Magnificent scheduled to appear?”
“At my buddy’s eight-year-old son’s birthday party.” Dave shot her a grin. “Hopefully they’ll be an easy crowd.” Children generally appreciated his performances, but there was always a chance of having that kid in the audience. He didn’t understand people who tried to spoil a trick for everybody else.
John Hunniwell was waiting for them. Dave backed up perfectly on his first try, and the coupler dropped squarely onto his trailer hitch. “Nicely done,” the photographer said.
“I need to do one more thing before we leave,” Mattie said. She pulled a tube out of her carry-on bag and walked to the rear of the trailer.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure Christmastown gets all the free advertising it can,” she replied as she unrolled a banner advertising the display’s destination and new home.
“You came prepared.”
“I forgot to mention that my boss wants tons of shots of us on the road. I contacted her last night to explain the situation. She agreed to cover all of your fuel costs if you’re willing to make some extra stops so we can get social media content.”
Dave was no fool. That offer would provide him an extra month of freedom. “As long as we stay on schedule, we can stop wherever you’d like.”
Mattie gave him a relieved grin. “Thank you. I have a list.”
Their last view of Hunniwell Ranch was John in the driveway waving as they pulled onto the highway. Once they settled on their final route south, Mattie relaxed into her seat. “How did you get into magic?” she asked as she popped a donut hole into her mouth.
Dave told her about keeping people entertained in the line for pictures with Santa. He’d picked up his old hobby and expanded his repertoire of tricks when he took a job on the oil patch and had long periods of downtime with nothing else to do. The previous winter, he’d put on a short bit at the company’s Christmas party. The rave reviews he’d received convinced him to put together a professional show. “And here I am,” Dave finished.
“That would have been perfect for us at Christmastown. I look forward to seeing your performance,” Mattie said.
He shook his head when she offered him the last donut hole in the box. “How about you? I’m sure Robby told me that you studied business administration. How did you end up doing social media for a theme park?”
She popped the treat into her mouth. “I was headhunted. I used to work for a web design company. I did the social media content for some of their clients. Then I was contacted by my now-boss, Mei Chen. She liked what I did with a couple of clients and asked if I wanted to come to Christmastown to do their social media. The woman who set up all their accounts left six months after launch. I jumped at the opportunity and never looked back. I got Christmastown organized through its second summer, and I wanted something new to take us into our second Christmas season. I convinced her that we needed more hands-on guest experiences. My boss approved more of my elfie stations, so I was trying to come up with ideas for those when the Santa’s Village came up for sale.”
“Wait a minute. Elfie stations?”
“You know, like selfie stations, only Christmas-themed.”
Dave took his eyes off the road long enough to look at Mattie in admiration. “The gingerbread house. The crystal ice heart arbour. You scored the mother lode!” Every single piece had been designed as a photographic prop.
“I hope so. When I saw it online, I knew we had to have it, but the village ate my whole winter budget. If the pieces don’t work out, it’s all on me.” Mattie’s hand trembled as she picked up her cup of cold coffee.
“They’re going to be a massive hit.”
“If they aren’t, I’ll get fired and vanish from sheer embarrassment. No magic needed.”
They travelled the next few kilometers in silence. They weren’t on Highway 2, the main route between Calgary and Edmonton. They were headed south, but a little farther east toward the massively busy tourist town of Drumheller.
It took three left turns before they pulled into the parking lot under Tyra, the World’s Largest Dinosaur. Mattie had insisted that she needed shots of her snowmen waving under the towering concrete statue. By Dave’s conservative count, she took a hundred photos and still fussed that she might not have a decent one to turn into a post. Eventually, she consented to take a lunch break.
“Do you think they serve raptor burgers?” Mattie asked, pointing at an independent burger restaurant across the main road.
