50. Epilogue
CHRISTMAS
~ Char ~
I ’d been texting the GAL PAL group, halfheartedly trying to talk Samantha down out of breaking up with Malachi, when my phone rang. Tamara! Maybe she had some good advice about our freaking-out friend.
“Merry Christmas, Tam-Tam! I think Samantha’s totally going to break up with him. Don’t you?” The last of the Mexican sun’s rays had faded, but the heat was still radiating from the poolside concrete, warming me. Mexico was marvellous, whereas back home they were having a blizzard.
Yeah, I was in the right place, and not just because I was curled up on a lounge chair by the pool, wrapped up in James’ bronzed arms. The water was a sparkling fake blue, but beyond it was the ocean, a deep, dark shade, changing with the wind and sun. With dusk it had become a whispering backdrop to what would surely be an amazing evening with James and his parents, who’d adopted me into the family and had even overlapped one of their own vacations so we could all spend Christmas together. Even my dad was going to fly down here for a few days, thanks to my new income bracket as a pottery expert, and his stabilized health. This holiday was perfect. Heaven. Everything I would have wished for—if not afraid of the possible ripple effects.
James placed a warm kiss on my shoulder, brushing my cover-up out of the way in order to do so. My favourite song began playing on the speakers around the pool and an adorable toddler giggled and squealed while splashing his sister. My drink cool and refreshing. I was happy. I had everything.
I couldn’t have wished for this. I couldn’t have imagined anything this good, this sweetly small and normal thing that would fill me with so much.
“I hit something,” Tamara said, a tremor in her voice. “With Benjamin.”
Benjamin was her Sebring. He’d hit a lot of things, but it had never left a tremor in Tamara’s voice. I sat up, my euphoria caving in upon itself, my drink spilling.
“I’m serious, Char.”
My mind struggled to compute. Tamara was back in Eagle Ridge, which meant her driving was less stressed than when she was in Calgary. That meant hitting fewer things, and not just because there was less to run into out there. No, usually Tamara laughed off her vehicular oopsies. But she wasn’t laughing. She was calling me.
I plugged an ear to drown out the pool music and got up, padding further from the sounds of splashing kids.
“What’s wrong?” James asked, sitting up.
I shook my head, moving toward the quiet beach so I could hear Tamara better.
“Christmas is doomed.”
“Doomed?” I giggled at her dramatic tone. “Why? Was there a sleigh involved?”
“I hit Rudolph. He’s on the road.”
What?
My humour came up short, my heart crab-crawling its way into my throat. My mind immediately skipped to thoughts of Estelle and the magical world.
Could Santa and his herd of flying reindeer be real? It was the evening of December twenty-third. There was less than twenty-four hours before Rudolph had to do his around-the-world thing. This was hardly a good time for a Christmas crisis. Surely I was misunderstanding what my bestie was saying.
I mustered as much calm as I could, but with a growing sense of foreboding, I said, “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”
* * *
Thank you for reading FAIRY GODMOTHERS AREN’T CHEAP. I hope you loved the touch of magic in Char’s story!