3. Feliz Navi Don’t
Feliz Navi Don’t
“ For crying out loud, Scarlett !” Delilah complained. “What kind of landing was that?”
“Oh, stop moaning. I got us here, didn’t I?”
Delilah untangled herself from her sister and stepped out into the (fortunately unoccupied) room. Instantly she was struck by the scent: gingerbread and mulled wine, with just a hint of peppermint around the edges. It was the smell of Christmas at the inn. It was also the smell of Papa.
Why won’t they change that stupid scent spell? she thought bitterly. Make the air smell like... I don’t know, cranberries or cloves or something. Why do they insist on filling our noses with his memory every year?
She put down her case and straightened her blazer, hoping to maintain some basic level of dignity. “Scar, you really need to review the fundamentals of portal travel. See if you can get an eight-year-old to explain them to you.”
“Blah blah blah, Grumpus McCrankypants over here. Would it kill you to admit you’re a tiny bit happy to be home?”
“That would be false. But I’m here. You got what you wanted. Tell me what’s going on with the magicians.”
“In a minute. C’mere, you’ve got to see this—” Scarlett moved to the window and pulled back the curtains. “Mama’s gone full Clark Griswold this year.”
Delilah was horrified by the scene below.
Twinkling lights wrapped every tree trunk and branch, creating a glimmering canopy.
A collection of enchanted reindeer, crafted from branches and twigs, pranced around the shrubbery.
One even had a glowing red nose, because of course.
Even the old stone fountain was under a spell; instead of water, it sprayed streams of tiny golden lights, like an explosion at a sparkler factory.
The sparkles formed themselves into patterns of stars and bells and wreaths as they dissolved into the air.
“Good grief... Santa’s elves seriously got into the Red Bull.”
“You’re such a Grinch . You could be a tiny bit impressed, at least. Mama’s had Nate hard at work helping out for weeks.”
“Aw, good old Nate.” Delilah couldn’t help but smile at the mention of their childhood buddy and Scarlett’s true love. “I’ve missed him. How’s everything going with you two, anyway? Engaged yet?”
“No, not yet,” Scarlett muttered, “and I really don’t want to discuss it. C’mon...” She grabbed her sister’s arm, yanking her toward the door. “Let’s go downstairs—everyone’s dying to see you.”
“ Everyone meaning Mama, who must be furious that I skipped Thanksgiving? Or everyone meaning Zahir, who I’m sure is annoyed that I haven’t been around to help him in the kitchen?
Everyone meaning the other witches in town, who all want to know why I’m not married yet?
Or everyone meaning the outraged guests whose reservations you’ve bungled because you weren’t paying attention when I taught you how to use the computer? ”
“All of the above, obviously. But I only bungled a few reservations. Now, cheer up and come with me.”
As they crossed the third-floor hallway, Delilah was hit with a memory so vivid it nearly knocked her sideways: she and her sisters as little kids, racing down this very corridor on Christmas Eve.
Papa’s voice calling after them... “Girls! Girls, wait! Did you know that the tradition of enchanted evergreen actually dates back to pre-Christian Germanic tribes? The druids believed—” Then Mama’s laughter, cutting him off.
“Edward, darling, they don’t need a lecture on etymology.
They need to get to bed before You Know Who arrives.
” But Papa was already deep into professor mode.
He’d yanked a leather-bound tome from his study shelves and was standing in the hallway, waving it around.
“But, Kelly, it’s fascinating! The linguistic evolution from the Old English ‘ grēne garlēac ’ to our modern ‘garland’ tells us about how magic adapted to?—”
That’s when toddler Luna had sneezed, and she must’ve been thinking about candles at the time because she accidentally set the stairway garland on fire.
Mama quickly put it out while Papa beamed proudly and announced, “Great job, Luna! Burning the garland is precisely what the Saxons did! We’ll make you a pagan queen yet! ”
Delilah blinked hard as she forced the image back down the memory hole. “Scarlett. Will you please just tell me what’s happening with the magicians?”
“Patience, grasshopper. There’s lots of time to talk about those goons. Let’s say hi to everybody first.”
Delilah followed her sister down the staircase into the lobby, which was decked out in enough holiday regalia to make Father Christmas blush.
In the far corner, a string quartet had been enchanted to pluck out Christmas carols without the help of human musicians.
“God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” currently filled the air.
A massive Fraser fir dominated the corner by the stairs, its branches already laden with antique ornaments.
Delilah could hear the ornaments bickering with each other as they moved themselves around, all jockeying for optimal positions on the tree.
(“People can see me better from this branch!” “Hey! You’re blocking my light! ”)
Perched atop a tall, rickety ladder near the reservation desk was Nate, who was carefully attaching a long rope of evergreen garland along the crown molding. He had little metal clips clenched between his teeth, and he frowned as he concentrated on getting the spacing just right.
“Babe, be careful up there!” Scarlett called up to him. “Why don’t you let me just...” She wiggled her fingers, suggesting a spell.
“Don’t you dare,” he replied through the clips. “I’ve got a system.”
Delilah rolled her eyes. “Why are you letting him do that the hard way? One quick spell and the garland would be perfect. Is your magic that bad?”
“Oh, stop picking on me.” Scarlett’s face softened as she watched her true love at work.
“It makes him happy. Men need projects. Especially Oak Haven men. They all marry witches who can fix almost anything with a quick spell and then spend the next thirty years not knowing what the hell to do with themselves. You gotta kind of... you know. You gotta let them do stuff . Besides, sometimes the hard way is the right way.”
“Said no witch ever,” Delilah replied. But it was true, there was something touching about Nate’s dedication to getting the garland to hang just so .
The magical string quartet brought “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” to a dramatic finish, paused, and began to play the song again.
“Don’t they know anything else?” asked Delilah.
“I’ve had some trouble with the spell,” Scarlett admitted. “For some reason they can only play that one and ‘Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.’”
“Ah. So. ‘God Rest Ye Merry’ it is, then.”
Her sister nodded. “We’ve been resting our merry asses for four days.”
“I can fix the spell for you—it’s very simple.”
“Oh, Del! I’d love you forever if you could.”
“That’s all it takes, eh?”
The sound of raised voices drew the sisters’ attention to the dining room. Through the open doors, they could see their mother, Kelly Melrose, presiding over a gathering of Oak Haven’s most prominent witches. The women were all talking over one another, arms waving and complaints flying.
“We’d never do something so tacky,” declared Jerusha, who was one of the elders. “I won’t have it!”
“Tacky?!” shot back a younger witch called Candace. “How dare you?”
Delilah nudged her sister. “What’s that about?”
“Planning meeting for the holiday pageant.”
“I thought Mama swore she was done with it, that she’d never agree to organize it again.”
Scarlett shrugged. “Doesn’t she say that every year?”
Like many small towns, the annual children’s pageant was a highlight of every Christmas season.
But unlike many small towns—indeed, perhaps unlike any other—the pageant did not concern itself with the birth of a chubby-cheeked son of the Almighty.
No, the Oak Haven Holiday Pageant was a pagan affair, recreating the battle between the Holly King, representing winter, versus the Oak King, representing summer.
And given that this was Oak Haven, this was a very big deal.
Indeed, there were few deals any bigger.
“The children absolutely cannot wear last year’s costumes,” Jerusha shouted. “Last year they looked like they’d been wrapped in bathrobes!”
“Well, excuse me for suggesting we be practical,” Candace shot back. “Some of us remember that this pageant is supposed to focus on the eternal battle between light and darkness. It’s not a showcase for a gaggle of six-year-olds dressed like Liberace!”
“Don’t you lecture me about the pageant! I was organizing this pageant before you were even?—”
Mama Melrose raised one hand, putting an end to the argument with just two sharp words. “ Ladies, please !”
“Sorry, Kelly,” muttered Jerusha.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Candace echoed.
“Honestly, I don’t know what to do with you. Of all people, I would expect you two to maintain some level of— Oh! It’s my girls !” Mama’s eyes lit up at the sight of her daughters. She rose gracefully from her seat, abandoning the bickering witches to join her children in the lobby.
“Darling, you’re home at last!” She embraced Delilah but quickly pulled back with concern. “You’ve lost weight—you’re skin and bones. And my gods, what on earth have you done to your beautiful hair? Is this what passes for fashion in Outer Mongolia?”
Funny what a year away can do, Delilah thought.
Her mother’s critiques, which had been endlessly irritating before, now just made her smile.
In fact, if Mama hadn’t complained about her haircut, Delilah would’ve felt a little disappointed.
“Hello to you too, Mama. Good to know some things never change.”
“Things do change,” Kelly protested. “Such as you, missing Thanksgiving this year! I hear you were too busy eating foie gras over in gay Paree to join your family.”