18. Claire
Claire
I slipped my arms into my coat, the cold air biting at my cheeks as I stepped out into the bustling street.
The town was alive with holiday cheer, and the twinkling lights that lined the buildings seemed to dance with every gust of wind.
Garland hung from lampposts, and wreaths adorned shop doors, their red ribbons fluttering like eager whispers of the season.
I decided it was the perfect time to go Christmas shopping.
It was Christmas Eve, and honestly, I knew I shouldn't have left it until the last minute. But with my grandmother’s failing health and everything going on with Christian, things had been slipping out of my fingers faster than sand through a sieve.
The festive atmosphere provided a temporary respite from the weight on my shoulders.
I strolled past the vibrant window displays, mentally checking off my list—something special for Gran, trinkets for my friends, and perhaps something to brighten Christian's holiday, if he'd even accept it.
The first store I entered was a quaint little bookshop.
Its window display was a festive tableau of classic novels wrapped in bright paper and bows.
The scent of aged paper mingled with pine needles as I browsed through the shelves, searching for something special for my grandmother.
She had a love for poetry, so I picked out an anthology of Christmas poems, its cover embossed with gold.
Next, I wandered into a toy store. It was filled with the laughter of children and the sounds of carols playing softly in the background.
Wooden trains chugged around miniature tracks, and stuffed animals sat in rows, their button eyes twinkling under the lights.
I found a puzzle for Mia, Emma's daughter—a beautiful scene of a snowy village that would surely keep her entertained for hours.
As I made my way down Main Street, I marveled at how each store had its unique charm.
The bakery had gingerbread houses on display, their sugary rooftops dusted with powdered snow.
The clothing boutique showcased mannequins dressed in cozy winter wear, scarves draped artfully around their necks.
Even the hardware store had gotten into the spirit, with tools arranged to form a makeshift Christmas tree.
I stepped inside the general store, gathering a few last-minute essentials—wrapping paper adorned with reindeer and snowflakes, some extra ornaments for the inn’s tree, and a tin of homemade fudge that I knew would make a perfect gift for Emma and her sweet tooth.
Stepping back outside, I took a deep breath of the crisp air and felt an unexpected warmth spread through me.
I continued down the street, the festive atmosphere around me doing little to ease my swirling thoughts. The last store on my list was a clothing boutique, its windows showcasing mannequins dressed in winter finery. As I stepped inside, a wave of warmth enveloped me, pinching at my cheeks.
The racks were filled with cozy sweaters, thick scarves, and gloves of every color. I wandered through them, touching the soft fabrics absentmindedly. My mind wasn't on my shopping list anymore; it was on Christian.
I had been debating whether or not to get him something.
Part of me wanted to—desperately—but another part of me worried it might be too much too soon.
He was an enigma, and I didn’t want to push him away.
He had already retreated after that moment with the Christmas lights.
What if a gift made him withdraw even further?
Still, the thought of him spending Christmas without any gesture of kindness tugged at my heart. I picked up a scarf, running my fingers over the woolen threads. Would he like something practical like this? I didn’t know. That was the problem—I didn’t really know him as well as I wanted to.
I pictured his rugged appearance, his guarded eyes that softened just a little when he let his guard down. A scarf seemed too personal, almost intimate in its own way. Gloves? Perhaps they would be better—useful but not overly sentimental.
I moved over to a display of leather gloves, picking up a pair and examining them closely. They were sturdy and warm, something that seemed fitting for someone like him. But as I stood there holding them, uncertainty gnawed at me.
What if he thought it was presumptuous? What if he felt obligated to accept them but resented it deep down? My fingers tightened around the gloves as I debated with myself.
I set the gloves down and stepped out of the store, a gust of cold air hitting me as the door closed behind me. I knew I was overthinking this. Christian was a grown man, capable of handling a simple gesture without it being a big deal. Yet, my mind kept circling back to the same doubts.
Walking down the street, I tried to focus on the festive decorations instead. The twinkling lights, the garlands draped over doorways, the occasional burst of laughter from passersby—it all painted a picture of joy and warmth. Still, my thoughts refused to settle.
As I neared the inn, a sudden realization made me stop in my tracks. Tape. I had forgotten to buy tape for wrapping gifts. With a sigh, I turned on my heel and headed back to the general store.
The bell above the door jingled as I stepped inside once more, the warmth of the store a welcome contrast to the biting cold outside. I quickly found the tape and made my way to the counter. As I waited for my turn to pay, something caught my eye—a display of snow globes in one of the aisles.
Drawn by their shimmering allure, I wandered over to take a closer look.
The snow globes were arranged in neat rows, each one capturing a miniature winter wonderland under its glass dome.
One held a tiny village scene, complete with quaint houses dusted in snow and tiny figures skating on an icy pond.
Another showcased a majestic reindeer standing proudly amidst snow-covered trees, its antlers adorned with sparkling snowflakes.
There was something mesmerizing about these little worlds trapped in glass. They felt timeless, like tiny capsules of magic waiting to be unleashed with just a shake. I picked up one featuring a small inn with warm lights glowing from its windows—a scene that reminded me of home.
Turning it over in my hands, I watched as flakes of artificial snow swirled around inside, settling gently over the scene below. It was beautiful in its simplicity—a perfect reminder of the season’s charm.
I stood there, holding the snow globe, and felt a warmth spread through me. It seemed like a small, silly gesture, but somehow it felt right. Maybe, just maybe, Christian could look at it and think of home too.
I took a deep breath and made my way back to the counter. The clerk gave me a kind smile as she rang up my items. I placed the snow globe carefully on the counter along with the tape and other essentials. Watching her wrap it up in tissue paper, I felt a sense of quiet satisfaction.
Once everything was bagged and paid for, I stepped back outside into the cold. The chill nipped at my face, but my heart felt lighter than it had in days. The festive lights seemed to twinkle even more brightly as I made my way down the street toward the inn.
Reaching the inn's front door, I paused for a moment before stepping inside.
The welcoming warmth enveloped me immediately, and I could hear the faint hum of holiday music playing in the background.
I immediately headed for my office, stepping inside before I ran into Gran.
I set my bags down on the desk and took off my coat, hanging it on the hook by the door.
The inn was quiet, most guests either out enjoying the festivities or settled in their rooms. I carefully unpacked my bags, placing each item thoughtfully on the table. The snow globe was last; its delicate beauty deserved special attention.
I unwrapped it gently and held it up to the light, watching as the flakes swirled around inside once more. It really was beautiful in its simplicity—a perfect symbol of everything Christmas should be.
With care, I wrapped it back up and tucked it safely away. I'd find the right moment to give it to Christian later. For now, there were gifts to wrap and a tree to add decorations to.
As I got to work, my mind kept wandering back to him. But this time, there was no uncertainty—just hope that this small gesture might bring him some measure of peace during this festive season.
I finished wrapping the last of the gifts, smoothing the tape down over the bright paper. My back ached from leaning over the desk for so long, and I stood up, stretching until I felt a satisfying pop. The room was filled with neatly wrapped presents, each one ready to be placed under the tree.
I rolled my shoulders and glanced at the clock. It was getting late, and I realized I hadn't seen my grandmother in a while. A twinge of worry crept into my thoughts. She had been more tired lately, her energy sapped by age and illness.
Stepping out of my office, I made my way to the front desk where Harlow was manning the counter. She looked up from her book as I approached.
"Harlow, have you seen Gran?" I asked.
"Haven't seen her," she replied, shaking her head.
I nodded, a small frown tugging at my lips. "Thanks."
Deciding to check our suite, I headed down the hall. The inn's warm lights cast a cozy glow in the hallway, and the scent of pine from the Christmas tree wafted through the air. Reaching our door, I knocked softly before entering.
"Gran?" I called out gently as I stepped inside.
The suite was quiet, too quiet. My heart quickened slightly as I walked through the small living area towards her bedroom. The door was ajar, and I pushed it open carefully.
The suite was empty. My heart began to race, a thud echoing in my ears, but I forced myself to stay calm. Gran had to be somewhere nearby.
"Gran?" I called out again, my voice wavering slightly. No answer.
I walked through the small living area and checked her bedroom. The bed was neatly made, the blankets undisturbed. Her favorite book lay on the nightstand, the bookmark peeking out halfway through. She wouldn't have gone far without it.
I moved to the bathroom, knocking softly before opening the door. Empty. The kitchen? Also empty. Panic started to creep in, but I pushed it down, focusing on the task at hand.
Where could she be?
I hurried back down the hall, checking the other guest rooms along the way. Each door I opened revealed nothing but emptiness and silence. It wasn't like Gran to wander off without letting me know.
Reaching the front desk again, I found Harlow still engrossed in her book.
"Harlow," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "Gran's not in our suite. Did she mention going anywhere?"
Harlow looked up, her brow furrowing in concern. "No, she didn't say anything."
"She wouldn't just leave," I muttered more to myself than to Harlow.
Maybe she went outside for some fresh air? Gran sometimes liked to take short walks around the inn's grounds when she felt restless. I grabbed my coat and headed for the front door, bracing myself against the cold as I stepped outside.
The festive lights twinkled around me as I scanned the surroundings. The courtyard was empty, and there was no sign of her near the entrance. I started walking along the path that led around the building, my breath forming little clouds in the chilly air.
"Gran?" I called out into the night.
Nothing but silence and the soft crunch of snow underfoot.
I picked up my pace, checking every corner and nook where she might have gone. The worry gnawed at me with each step as possibilities ran through my mind—had she gotten lost or fallen? Had something worse happened?
Reaching the back of the inn without any sign of her, I stopped and took a deep breath. There had to be some explanation. Maybe one of the staff saw her leave or knew where she'd gone.
At least, that was what I told myself. It was the only thread keeping me together.