Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
QUINN
I can’t breathe. I want to breathe. Air right now would be good, welcome, exciting even, and yet, I cannot breathe.
“You need to breathe,” Zoey says as she steps up behind me and nuzzles her head into my neck.
“Is it that obvious?” I ask, kissing her on the forehead.
“Your face turning blue is a dead giveaway.” She steps back and grabs my hand. “You got this. Everything is going to be great.”
I have all of my fingers and toes crossed that she’s right.
After the storm two days ago and working yesterday into the wee hours of the morning, I’ve officially done everything I can do.
My shop, although not perfect, is pretty darn good.
The plywood across the windows was not giving off the comfortable homey vibe I wanted, so this morning I stapled bows across all of it to cover.
But really, it’s not about the plywood. It’s about wondering if my yearlong effort to transform the farm, the advertising, social media, and hand making all these items will pay off.
If people will love this place the same as I do, if my tree farm will generate some beautiful memories, if kids will have a good time.
The creak of the barn doors opening sounds behind me and a slight breeze whooshes in. “Ho, ho, ho!” a loud voice booms.
If I knew Zoey’s dad just a little bit better, I’d run over there and give him a big hug.
After the Santa I’d originally hired called me last night to cancel because of a terrible case of food poisoning, I nearly panicked that I’d have to get into the suit myself or bribe Morgan to do it.
But within five minutes of telling Zoey what happened, her dad stepped up to the plate.
And not only that, but Debbie also begged to play Mrs. Claus. Problem solved.
“Red really suits you,” I say. “I think you should take Debbie out for a night on the town wearing this.”
He pats his round, jolly belly. “I think that’s a good idea. Maybe I’ll see if we can squeeze in the back seat of my car—”
“Dad, nope. Please for the love of everything, do not finish that sentence,” Zoey says with her hands up. “My stomach is already fragile enough from the pizza last night. I can’t take much more.”
The pizza. I felt terrible that I ruined Thanksgiving for Zoey’s family.
After not returning home until close to 3:00 a.m., it didn’t surprise me that everyone was too exhausted to make a feast later that day.
Debbie cheerfully claimed that Sunday was as good of a day as any to celebrate Thanksgiving, and it was all about being with loved ones, not which day the date fell on the calendar.
If it wouldn’t make Zoey and me sisters, I swear I’d ask them to adopt me.
“Quinn, come take some test shots,” Frankie calls from the photo shoot area. “Zoey, I’d love to get a few of you in here as well.”
Zoey and I cross the room to the “Santa Station.” I sit on the large red chair and pat my thighs. Zoey grins, slides onto my lap, and wraps her arm around me.
“Tell me everything you want for Christmas,” I say, breathing in her warm scent. Out of respect for everyone in here, I ignore the deep urge to slide my hand on her ass.
“I already have everything I want,” Zoey says, then leans into my ear, “but if you’re not too tired tonight, let’s bring back that blindfold and I’ll give you one of your presents early.”
“I’m not too tired tonight.” I giggle and ignore the groans coming from Frankie. I tip my head up and meet Zoey’s lips.
This really is more than I could’ve ever dreamed. We snap a few pictures, and Frankie checks the exposure and setting. Morgan is in the kitchen area brewing the coffee next to the hot chocolate, and Zoey’s parents are in the corner adjusting their outfits.
And me? I’m holding my girlfriend and taking in the moments before—hopefully—chaos hits with a mad rush of customers. If I can squeeze one more Christmas miracle out of this year, my hope is that I have customers, and those customers leave here smiling.
Two hours later, the beautiful chaos hits.
The temporary crew waves in the cars like air traffic controllers, lining them up to park near the barn, and the overflow area—which I never dreamed we’d have to use.
As Christmas music fills the shop, Frankie works the crowd, completely in her element, cheering on the kids to smile with Santa and snapping photos.
Morgan is at the register, chatting with customers and wrapping up their merchandise in heavy paper and festive bags.
Zoey is in the kitchen area, smiling widely, serving up cookies and hot chocolate to the guests.
And me? Well, I’m running around everywhere like a baby goat who just realized they could actually run.
I dash to one area, then to another, then to another.
Every single one of the twenty temporary crew showed up on time, and if this keeps up, I’m definitely handing out holiday bonuses.
They’re helping customers drag wrapped trees to cars, adhering them Griswold-style to their cars, and directing traffic.
“More marshmallows?” Zoey asks as I wiggle behind her and dig in the cabinets.
“Yep. Here I thought I bought enough for the season, but I think we’re going to go through them by the end of the weekend,” I say, grabbing three bags and an extra box of graham crackers.
This is the best problem to have. The bonfire and s’mores stand are a huge hit, and sticky-fingered children are running around wiping their hands in the snow.
“Instead of date night later, I think we need to make a Costco run.”
“Oh, that’s still a date night. Who doesn’t love Costco?” Zoey grins and greets a guest.
At the bonfire behind the barn, I drop off the supplies and hand out water to the crew member who’s diligently making sure the fire stays hot and no one burns themselves.
I run back inside, grab a tray of hot chocolate, and make my rounds to check on the rest of the crew and give them a little hot cocoa reprieve.
The crew member giving hayrides waves at me from the tractor as parents and kids climb on the trailer and settle on hay bales.
As the huge tires crunch against the gravel, soft, gentle snowflakes begin to flutter to the ground.
I stop where I’m at and give myself just a moment to watch them float against the white lights strung across a few of the trees.
With the activity, and kids running, the fire, and the joy filling the air, I feel like I’m in a real-life snow globe.
Joy fills me, starting in my soul and moving to my heart.
A warmth that I’ve always wanted, that always seemed just a stretch out of reach, I’m finally touching.
This is happiness.
I love Christmas time.
The day flies by. I’m outside more than inside, but don’t even have time to get cold.
So many customers stop me and marvel at my place.
They tell me stories of coming here when they were little, and how I tapped into something deeply nostalgic.
Kids stop me and ask if they can come back and meet Santa again and have more cookies.
Families have me take pictures of them with their cell phones, and more than one person has given me a hug.
We were supposed to close at four because it’s getting dark, but cars are still rolling in. Sadly, for their safety, I finally tell my crew that we cannot let anyone in past five. Day one, and I have to turn away customers. Turn. Away. Customers. I cannot believe this is real life.
When we finally, officially, close up shop, I thank everyone profusely and send them all home. After hugging Zoey’s parents, Morgan, and Frankie, I close the barn door and collapse into the large Santa chair.
Zoey wriggles in next to me and lays her head against my chest. “What a day, huh?”
What a day, a year, a life. Things I thought were impossible turned possible. Leaving New York and moving home. Starting and launching my own business. Revamping an entire tree farm into something beautiful and inspiring.
Finding love.
My chest fills and I hold Zoey tight against me. She tips up her head, her eyes searching mine, and a gentle grin passes her face. “Where’s that mistletoe you promised me earlier?”
I cup her cheeks and plant a kiss on her beautiful plump lips. “I don’t need mistletoe to give my love kisses.”
Her warm grin fills me. She snuggles back into my chest, and I take a deep, cleansing breath as everything around me settles. Against all odds, something I never thought would happen, happened.
I found my Christmas miracle.