Chapter Two
Serena
Christmas is about more than one day to me.
It starts before the first snowfall, before the first light is strung, or a tree is decorated. It is more than presents or even tradition. For me it is about the goodness we find in one another. In a world full of struggles, a world pulling us in hundreds of directions, it is about real connections.
Growing up, we had very little in the way of presents or traditions. No lavish meals were had at our dining table. What we did have was laughter. Love. We made a banquet of whatever we had, because we were together. My parents taught us that life is not simply about grandeur.
Life is about the little moments we hold on to.
“We doing this, Serena?” One of the group calls above the ruckus.
Turning to the other members of the Welcome Committee, I nod. Yes, we’re doing this. With less than a week before Christmas, we’re out trying to bring joy to the folks of Driftwood Peaks. Tonight, we venture up onto the mountain. We’re hesitant because it is full of grumpy mountain men and lumberjacks who live up there to stay away from people like us.
“Yes. They need this more than anyone, if you ask me,” I answer with a smile that I am not sure they buy.
I am a people-pleaser by nature, I suppose. Besides my real estate work, I run things at the shelter in town. We’re a small enough town, with less than a thousand residents, so it is well serviced by the kindness of others. I have always tried to take care of others, to do for others, to give back because I know how it feels to have nothing.
Going up on the mountain, taking small gifts or baked treats, while we sing Christmas carols is a way to give back. To give some joy to those men who work hard and never ask for anything in return. They’re the ones who keep the town thriving, who keep it going, so they deserve this and more.
“We’re going up there, we’re going to knock on doors, hand out sweets, thank you Imelda for these,” I thank our resident baker, thanking her for all the mini loafs of bread and baskets of muffins. “Sing a song or two, then thank them for all they do. They deserve a little joy, I think. No matter how grumpy or grinchy they might be up on that mountain!”
The others wholeheartedly agree before we climb into two vans to head up the mountain. It is a cool night, with the sun setting slowly, as if it wants to hold on a little longer. The skies darken as we reach the top of the mountain, forewarning of the promised storm that is coming. Driftwood Peaks claims to have all seasons, but if you ask me, we get winter and spring, and little else. I love all the snow and the cold, it suits me, so I don’t mind.
Driftwood is a beautiful place with so much to offer. Besides brutal winters and too-short springs there is plenty to love about our town. Beautiful snow-peaked mountains, dense, sprawling forests, fresh cool water springs, and a lovely town where we all care about one another.
“They won’t expect us,” I remind the group as we park at the furthest house we mapped out, planning to walk down as far as we can. “Because no one remembers them this time of year. Which is just why we should.”
“Did you mean what you said about gifts, Serena?”
Turning to Lilli, who suggested we make the rounds of the mountain where her and her lumberjack husband, Landon, live, I nod. “Yes, I am. I will make gifts for the shelter, which I love to do. Why not make a little more?”
“A little more...Serena, you said you were giving a gift to every single house in town. That is...more than a few more.”
Laughing, I nod as we approach the first house. “It is, but I love making gifts. It is me giving a little of myself to someone.”
“To an entire town, in this case. You’re a good one, Serena Bell.”
Beaming at her kind words, I join the others on the porch of a small cabin set back from the main road. This is Mack and Mollie Felle’s place. Mack runs the lumber landings here in Driftwood. Two landings ship lumber all over the country. They’re diligent about planting just as much as they take so they never ruin the lovely landscape of the mountains they work on.
Mollie comes to the door with hot chocolate, as we launch into our first song. We practiced for over a week, but this first go we’re a mess. Laughing at how awful we’re harmonizing, we pass the cups of hot chocolate around then start again. The second go we’re on fire. Mollie and Mack watch us with beaming smiles, and I know we’re doing a good thing.
“Be sure to go to Elena and Everett’s place,” Mack suggests, smirking when someone gasps. “Oh, no need to fear him. Elena has tamed that big old beast, I assure you. This is nice, Serena. If any of the other guys give you a hard time, you let me know and I will deal with them.”
“Well, I hope they welcome us as it is the Holiday season. Here, for both of you,” I hand over the bag with the ornament I made just for them.
“Oh, Serena,” Mollie coos as she takes it from the bag, letting the golden shimmer shine in the light. “This is beautiful,” she breathes, tracing the letters of their last name embellished on the glittering ornament.
“I am so glad you like it! I am giving everyone in town some sort of ornament. Well, I am going to try, at least,” I correct myself with a laugh.
“That is amazing. The whole town?”
“Yes, ma’am. I love making them, so I thought I would make one for each house. We make some down at the shelter, so it got me thinking I could bring some joy this holiday by making some for everyone.”
“If you need anything at the shelter, or for your gift-giving, you let us know,” Mack tells me, jerking his head in a way to let me know he means it.
“I will be sure to do that. As suggested, we’re off to the other Felle household. I will let your cousin Everett know you sent us,” I tease as we turn to head down the mountain to another cabin.
We stop at his cousin, Everett’s place, where we chat with his wife Elena as their daughter Loa sings along with us. I bend to her level, gifting her the ornament I made for their tree. It’s her favorite color, a bright teal blue that shines in the gray evening light. Loa’s eyes get huge as she holds it in her little hands, beaming a beautiful smile up at me.
“It’s for us! It’s our name!” She enthuses, turning to show it to her mother and father.
“That it is. You did not have to do that,” Elena says warmly.
“Well, we’ve got another song for you, so hold that thought.”
Behind me, our lead alto starts off on her favorite song, O Come All Ye Faithful, and we all join in. Loa does not know the words, yet tries to hum along with us, dancing between her parents. If no one else answers the door, if not one other mountain man or lumberjack on this mountain lets us sing for them tonight, this will be good enough for me.
Finishing up with them, we head a little further down to another cabin tucked back from the road. The door swings open and Luke and Leia Wade beat us to the punch. Leia is playing a guitar as Luke sings into a karaoke mic, his voice echoing into the mountains.
“Thought we would join for a song or two, Serena,” Leia tells me.
“Is this you two making fun of our good tidings?” I shoot back, brow arched, hand on my hip. We stare each other down before we all erupt with laughter.
“Never! This is the cutest thing to happen to Driftwood Peaks in ages!”
“Do not tease these kind folks,” I warn her before I cue them to start singing.
Luke joins in, still singing into the mic, even holding it out for some of the carolers. It is my second favorite stop of the night. Passing them their ornament before I go, I thank them for being such good sports. Luke teases me that we will have to visit his brothers and sister in Crystal Cove, to give them a real show once we’re done on the mountain.
We hit half a dozen other houses, and I hand out gifts to each house. Even the growly mountain men who soften once we finish a song, and I present their gift. We’re halfway done with making the rounds when I notice a light glowing in the distance. It’s not a house I had on our list of ones to stop at, so I hesitate to suggest going.
Can’t show up to a mountain man’s door without a gift, can I?
“We might not want to hit that place,” Lilli tells me, nodding down a long, narrow drive that stretches for half a mile before disappearing into the dense woods. “Slater Roth will not welcome any of this. I promise.”
Tilting my head, I ignore the shiver that runs up my spin. Slater Roth . If ever there was a beast up on this mountain, it is him. At least that is what people in town say. He works on the landings with Mack Felle’s crews, but he is not one of them. That is also what others say.
“Well, now I am definitely going, with a gift or not. We all need people, Lilli. None of us are an island,” I tell her something my mother always tells me, whenever one of us was trying too hard to be strong.
There is a beauty in being a mess. In making mistakes. In letting people be there for you and support you. It is not always easy for all of us. Sometimes it is seen as a weakness, but I never believed that. Being weak is hard. Letting someone see that weakness is even harder.
“We’re with you all the way, Serena. Just do not be surprised if he answers his door with not joy or cheer…but hate and some humbug.”
Shaking my head, I turn with determination and all but storm up his long driveway. I think it is intentionally long. Twisty and sloping, to scare off those who might venture down it. I doubt the mailman even bothers.
Taking a moment to admire the cute little cabin, almost cloaked in thick spruce of the surrounding forest, I take a calming breath. Putting on a smile, I march up the short porch to knock on the door. Inside, a low light glows, the smell of a fire filling the cool night air. Knocking again, I turn to smile back at the others, trying to put on a brave face for them.
The door flies open with a bang, startling me. Staring down at me is the biggest, widest, most brooding man I have ever seen. I stand just five foot, and he looks as if he fits right in with the towering pine trees around us. His body is huge, taking up the entire doorway as he glares at the group of strangers gathered on his doorstep. He might intimidate the others, but when his eyes meet mine, I am anything but intimidated.
“H-Hello! Hi! We’re…well, we’re…we’re making the rounds of the mountain,” I stumble over my words. Because I can barely think straight as his eyes lock on mine. “We almost missed you, but I saw the light on! Give us just a moment,” I plead as I stare back, entranced by the honey color of his eyes.
His eyes flicker with something soft. Something patient. They lock on me, as if he looks at the others behind me, it might be too much. I want to ask why it would be too much, why he is so hidden back here, and why he seems to mind us coming, yet has not yet told us to leave. Before I can ask those wildly inappropriate questions, Lilli starts singing so we all join.
We almost make it through one song. He gives us half of a song. Then he holds his hand up, smiling at us before his smile vanishes. Back is the brooding look he opened the door with. He barks to go somewhere else with our little stick, and to get off his porch. Before I even turn to the others, I hear them shuffling off the porch, taking his threat seriously.
Stunned by his gruff behavior, I narrow a glare up at the big man. I am not afraid of him. In fact, I will be back on his doorstep with a gift in hand once I decide what I think will best suit him. Putting on a smile, I thank him for listening to us before wishing him a happy holiday.
“I will be back, Mr. Roth,” I whisper as I join the others to continue on our merry ways. That grouch of a lumberjack is not going to ruin my goodwill tidings train. In fact, he just reminded me why we’re doing this to begin with.
Slater Roth needs some holiday cheer, so I am going to see he gets it.