Chapter Two
VICTORIA
“ V ictoria, have you seen the green and yellow ribbon? The one we’re using for all the baskets? I can’t seem to find it anywhere,” my boss and best friend, Avery, asks as she rummages through a cabinet.
“Top shelf to the left,” I say, not looking up from my task of placing candy bunny ears into plastic eggs. It might not be the most engaging task I have to do today, but it’s one I take very seriously.
“Ah, there it is. What would I do without you?” she asks, her smiling face pops out from behind the cabinet door.
“Good thing you’ll never have to find out.” I smile, glancing up briefly as I pop the two pieces of the egg together.
While I adore being an elf at C.O.C.O.A., Avery loves it. She’s meant to be the head elf, bringing holiday magic to families that otherwise couldn’t afford it.
And yes, those are our real job titles. Even though now, I’m more like the Easter Bunny’s assistant.
Since moving to the normally Christmas-themed town of Gingerbread Grove and starting the second office, she’s worked tirelessly to expand our services beyond the usual holiday to bring year-round joy. She’s doing such a fantastic job that I left my life in Kamloops to join her in her new adventure. While C.O.C.O.A. started as a pure yuletide venture, Avery has been trying to expand it to events year-round to continue bringing joy to families who need it the most. So when she asked me to join her in getting the Gingerbread Grove location off the ground, I couldn’t say no.
Even if it means most of my day will consist of filling candy into plastic eggs.
“You’re right about that.” She places the ribbon on the counter and pulls a wicker basket toward her. “The town seems really excited for our Easter event. I wasn’t sure they would go for something non-Christmas, especially with it being run by people who just moved here, but seeing how Candy Cane Creek just had a successful Valentine’s event, I think they’re using it as fuel for their rivalry.”
I chuckle. “I still find it amusing. Rival Christmas towns. Now I guess they’re more rival holiday towns. It’s not just Christmas specific anymore.”
“I guess not.” She takes the ribbon and starts weaving it around the basket. “Everyone was ecstatic when I brought it up at the town hall meeting. Granted, they had some ideas that were a little too out there, even for me.”
“Like what?” I look up from my eggs, curious. Avery has some over-the-top Christmas ideas, so I can’t imagine what the town wanted to try to beat Candy Cane Creek as the top holiday resort.
“They wanted to make the hunt more competitive, including a half marathon while searching for eggs.”
“A half marathon…” I repeat, stunned. “I mean, those races do bring in a lot of people.”
“Yes, but they aren’t expected to have to beat their competitors at finding hidden eggs along the course,” she chuckles.
“That’s true. What else did they want to do?”
“Hmm, let’s see.” She taps her finger on her lip. “There was something about having people dress up in Easter Bunny costumes and wrestling sumo-style.”
I stare at her blankly, unsure how to form words with that one.
“I know. That was my response, too.”
“They do remember the real reason for Easter, right? I never really understood how they went from the Resurrection to bunnies and eggs, anyway.”
“Actually, I do know this…” Avery starts.
“Of course you do. I’m starting to think there really is a Council of Legendary Figures, and you’re one of the founding members.”
“Ha. Ha. Although I do wish. Do you want to know about the bunny or not?”
I sigh, knowing my curiosity will only get the better of me if I don’t find out. “I do.”
“Bunnies were associated with Easter because of a German tradition called ‘Osterhauste,’ which had an egg-laying hare that would lay colourful eggs for well-behaved children. The symbol of new life was linked to springtime and Jesus. From there, the egg-laying hare transformed into the Easter Bunny.”
“Wow. I never would have put that together. But how did they go from that to a marathon and the wrestling? Doesn’t that seem a little…”
“Extreme? Unnecessary?” she finishes.
“Yes. All that.”
“I agree. I don’t see how they expect people to go from Easter Sunday Church Service to wrestling bunnies, but that’s what they were throwing out there. It was shot down, anyway. We’ll keep our event simple. Just some good ol’ family-friendly fun in the town square. Plus, the town has had to halt any type of competition after The Yuletide Games debacle.”
I grimace. “Yeah, from what you told me, that’s probably a good idea. Has anyone heard from the ex-mayor and his wife?”
“Cal is still up on bribery charges. Both he and McKenzie have gone into hiding. Or as much as one can in Gingerbread Grove. I saw her at the store the other day in a baseball cap and glasses, thinking she was fooling anyone. I avoided her but saw someone in town throw a grape at her in the produce department.”
“A grape?” I gasp, choking on a laugh. I shouldn’t laugh. Nothing about the situation is funny, but a grape ?
“I think it was the closest thing Betty Stafford had to her. She yelled something about how she ‘should be ashamed of herself,’ and ‘how could you show your face after what you and your husband did.’”
“I don’t condone the throwing of grapes at people, but wasn’t there some sort of insider–something going on? Plus, those games were wild. Didn’t you get your names snuffed out like that TV show?”
“Yup,” Avery laughed, looking up from her basket. “Wildly enough, I don’t think it actually had to do with that. I think it had more to do with that stash of candy canes we found here before Matthew and I bought it. Peppermint sticks are contraband here, remember.”
“Oh, yes. I remember.” I also remember how our current C.O.C.O.A. headquarters, located just outside the town limits, was an old candy store that Cal had used to stash as many candy canes of all sizes as possible. Since Matthew and Avery have taken over and made the upstairs their future home, they’ve only found more. “What happened to McKenzie after that?”
“She dropped her basket and rushed out, saying something about needing to do online shopping from now on.” Avery’s tablet flashed to life before her with a notification, drawing our attention to the screen. “Oh no, is it really one already?”
“Hmm? I guess so. It feels like I’ve been filling these eggs all day.” I cover a yawn with the crook of my arm before grabbing yet another egg.
“I need to get ready for that call. I have no idea what we’re supposed to do with a pro hockey player at the Hop, but if it brings attention–and people–to the event, I’m willing to try.”
“Wait, what do you mean?” That grabs my attention.
“Remember, I told you about it? A player wants to help out with the Egg Hunt.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Wants to help us? Really?”
“Apparently,” she says, tapping at her screen. “Someone named James Northman.”
“Why does that name sound so familiar?” I don’t know much about hockey, especially anything to do with the pro players, but that name rings a bell.
“Yes, I don’t have much information. I got an email from the organization yesterday that said they wanted to chat today about how James can help ‘make our Easter Hop a success.’ I thought it was odd, but Matthew helped me check it was legitimate, so I responded. I mean, if he really wants to, we could use all the help we could get to get this off the ground.”
“You’re right. I just find it odd that a professional hockey player would want to come here and help. Isn’t their season almost over?”
“I think so. The email said this is his hometown, so maybe there’s another reason. Hmm, well, this is interesting,” she says, not looking up from her screen.
I remove my food-safe gloves and round the corner, peering over her shoulder.
VANCOUVER LUMBERJACK TERRORIZES CHILDREN IN TELEVISED EASTER DEBACLE
I gasp. That’s where I know him from. “No, this can’t be the guy.”
“It looks like it. I guess that explains why he wants to come help. Or, more likely, is being told that he has to from his PR team.” Avery scrolls through the article, stopping briefly at the pictures of a hockey player, his stick raised in front of a group of children. “Did he really do this on live television?”
“Yup. I didn’t see it live, but it’s been all over all my feeds.”
“I’m shocked the town isn’t gossiping over this,” Avery says as she closes her browser and brings up the GingerSnap app.
“Avery, are you going to start some trouble?” I ask, chuckling.
“No, I’m merely asking for more information about this James Northman before I take this call and agree to bring him on for the Hop. I want to make sure that this will be good press, not bad.”
“So I guess that all press really isn’t good press?” I laugh, making my way back to the eggs.
“I think there’s a Vancouver hockey team that certainly doesn’t share the sentiment,” she replies, not looking up from her screen.
“Are you getting any responses?” I grab a new pair of gloves and start filling plastic eggs again.
“Lots. Everything from ‘ he was such a good boy ’ to ‘ the disgrace of Gingerbread Grove .’”
“That’s not very helpful,” I laugh.
“No. I guess I’ll have to go into this call blind and see what we can do. I don’t want to say no to an organization as big as the Vancouver Lumberjacks. Even with this incident, I’m sure there will still be a lot of people that still want to come to see him.”
“So, what are you going to do?” I ask, looking up from the egg in front of me.
“Talk to them and see what they’re expecting, I guess. At the very least, maybe we can set him up at a booth to sign autographs and take pictures with the kids.”
“True.”
I watch as she walks away, scrolling on her tablet. Surely, a temporarily disgraced hockey player wouldn’t ruin a children’s event twice.
Right?