CHAPTER SEVEN
THE NORTH POLE
Avery didn’t like this plan to sell Christmas.
It took her only a few minutes of document review to confirm that she wanted no part of it.
And if she were being honest, she didn’t much care for Santa, either.
She couldn’t imagine working with him: executing on soulless, tech-driven initiatives, and hearing him use words like “synergy” and “shareholder value” for the rest of her career while watching him methodically suck all the joy out of the holiday.
Of course, Avery could make the arguments in favor of selling Christmas. She didn’t become one of the top lawyers of her generation for lack of ingenuity. Whether her heart and mouth would cooperate was another matter.
Within twenty minutes, she’d used her magic pen to craft a compelling case in favor of the sale. Her glowing words hung in the air above the grand leather couch like the Sword of Damocles.
She reviewed her options: make an argument she didn’t believe in and potentially ruin Christmas forever, or walk away now, integrity intact, and start a search for a different job, so she could still enjoy Christmas this year.
She had savings. And she didn’t have to listen very hard to hear her intuition screaming at her, insisting that this job was not what it seemed.
Avery decided it was time to throw in the towel. She left the library and headed toward reception to find someone to talk to about going home.
As she passed through the hall, she sighed, thinking about the way Louis had almost kissed her.
Surely, he would understand why she couldn’t take this position.
And once she was out of the running for this job, he wouldn’t have to worry about any conflicts of interest or needing to wait – whatever it was that was holding him back.
They could be together, something they clearly both wanted.
Whatever happened next, she’d still had the experience of a lifetime: meeting Santa, befriending a penguin, learning magic.
And she’d never have to worry about forgetting the meaning of Christmas ever again.
Avery reached the lobby to find the reception window closed.
A sign across the front said, “For immediate assistance, try the Break Room” with an arrow pointing to the hallway on her right, behind a set of locked double doors.
She leaned down, bringing her sparkling brooch even with the security pad on the wall.
The doors slid open; she heard voices and followed them.
Arriving at a door marked “brEAK ROOM,” Avery knocked three times.
Ander opened the door. “Oh, hello, Ms. Hoarfrost,” he announced formally. Behind him was a round table covered in playing cards and poker chips. Gregory, Tilly, Ander, and Louis were in the middle of a game.
Louis jumped out of his seat. “Avery, what are you doing here?” he asked, approaching the door and straightening his tie.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt. There was a sign at reception. I was looking for help. My brooch let me through the doors.”
“How can we help you, dear?” Tilly asked, shielding her cards from Gregory, who was trying to sneak a peek at her hand while her head was turned.
Avery smiled politely at Tilly.
“Can I talk to you, Louis?” Avery stepped back outside the room, and Louis leaned against the doorframe.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“I think I need to withdraw my name from consideration. I don’t think this job is for me.” She spoke quietly, but the others made no apparent attempts to pretend they weren’t listening.
Louis’ face went pale.
“I know. I’m sorry,” she said, marking his expression.
“I really appreciate the opportunity,” she insisted.
“But I was hoping when I got back to the Big City, you and I could grab dinner? And you could see if maybe there was another placement that might work better for me. And after that,” she said, lowering her voice, “maybe we could…keep seeing each other?” Smiling, she took his hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Louis,” Tilly said, warning in her voice.
Avery glanced at her, then back at Louis, who was looking at the floor. She let go of his hand.
“Erm. I’m sorry, but it’s not quite so simple,” he said, shifting his weight between his feet.
“What do you mean?” Avery asked.
“Oh dear, does she not know?” Ander asked Tilly. They set their cards down.
Avery glanced at Ander. “Know what?”
“I assumed she did, it didn’t come up,” he said over his shoulder to the group.
“What didn’t come up?” Avery asked, putting a hand on Louis’ upper arm.
“How carefully did you read the NDA you signed with the application?” Louis asked. He bit down on his lower lip.
She dropped her hand and stood up straight. “I read through it. It looked standard. Why?”
“Ah. Yes,” Louis said, turning away from Avery to lean his back against the door frame and look up at the ceiling.
“You better tell ‘er, mate,” Gregory said, the music missing from his voice.
“This is so unnecessary,” Louis grumbled.
“Obviously not,” Tilly growled back.
Louis sighed, resigned, and pressed a button on his bracelet, which projected a hologram of the NDA Avery signed. He scrolled down to the section entitled “Destruction of Confidential Information.”
“Here,” he said.
Avery scanned the language. It was all boilerplate. At the conclusion of her time at the North Pole, she was to destroy everything containing confidential information about the interview process, including but not limited to emails, photographs, communications, and—
“Memories?” Avery whispered.
“Avery—you know this all has to be a secret,” Louis explained.
“You can trust me, I’d never disclose anything,” she insisted, grasping his wrist.
Louis shook his head, a pained look on his face.
“I’m so sorry, but it’s North Pole policy.
To ensure total secrecy, for everyone’s safety, if you leave, we have to destroy your memories of all of this.
That includes associated memories as well, so that nothing can trigger any kind of recurrence.
I'm afraid, erm, we’d have to wipe every memory of Christmas from your mind. ”
“What?” Avery steadied herself on the doorframe. “How could you do that?”
“I—it’s—you know, that, to keep the magic of Christmas alive, some truths...must stay hidden. Some people around here,” he said, tossing the pointed words over his shoulder, “feel that precautions must be taken to uphold tradition, and to ensure the…security of Christmas.”
“You’re saying you would wipe all my Christmas memories. From childhood? The ones with my grandmother? My mom?”
Louis hung his head and said nothing.
“I’d have to forget…you?” Avery asked, her voice quavering.
All the Christmas Magic in the North Pole couldn’t dampen the stomachache forming low in Avery’s gut, or the tears welling up in her eyes.
Louis turned back toward the group and gestured toward Avery with both hands. “Would you look at what this is doing!” he loudly implored, his words cracking in his throat.
Tilly, Ander, and Gregory looked down at the table and said nothing.
“You’re willing to watch this happen again?” He demanded of the others, his plea turning to accusation. “To her? To me?”
Tilly’s ears pinned back. “How dare you put that on us,” she scolded. “We followed the rules, just like you, just like them.”
He whipped back to Avery and held her hands, squeezing tight, desperation in his voice. “Listen to me. That’s not going to happen. You are so close to the finish line. I know what he’s asking you to do.”
“Louis!” Tilly admonished with a growl, standing up and putting both paws on the table. “You cannot interfere.”
"Don’t you think I realize that?!” Louis shouted back at her, a burst of snow billowing out behind him, a cold wind swirling into the Break Room and scattering their cards. Tilly, Ander, and Gregory froze.
Louis’ chest was heaving.
Avery needed to move. She put a hand on his arm. “Hey,” she said softly. “Take me on a walk.” She tugged him gently out the door.
He looked at her, and his expression softened. “I’m sorry,” he said, sparing a sheepish glance at the group. They began gathering the cards and poker chips that he’d strewn about the room with his frosty outburst. He led her away down the hallway. She looped her arm through his and held on tight.
“How does it work?” she asked quietly, after a moment.
“How does what work?” he asked back, staring blankly ahead, as they made their way down an empty hallway lined with doors.
“How would you erase my Christmas memories?”
He sighed. “Please, let’s not think about—"
“I need to know,” she insisted, holding his arm firm and stopping his march forward.
Giving her hand a squeeze, he wordlessly led her on down the hallway. They stopped in front of a large golden door. Louis pulled an ornate key out of his pocket and slid it into the lock.
“No ID brooch?” Avery asked.
“This is a very old door,” Louis explained.
She followed him inside. The room was grand, the surfaces made of dark, rich wood, each wall lined with shelves full of bottles and jars, much like a wine cellar.
But instead of wine, every glass container was filled with a golden, glittering powder.
There were no electric lights: the space was illuminated by a faint, warm glow emanating from each vessel.
“It’s so beautiful,” Avery remarked in a reverent whisper.
“It’s Christmas Magic,” Louis explained from the center of the room. “Harvested. Concentrated. Think of it like—pixie dust. Properly administered by someone who is strong with the magic, and received with intention, it can be used to alter the mind. Change memories.”
Walking the perimeter of the room, she ran her fingertips along one of the shelves, brushing the side of a bottle. The light inside momentarily flared at her touch, and she yanked her hand back.
“And if it’s not properly administered?” Avery asked, inspecting the nearest jar.
To her surprise, Louis snorted a laugh, and she turned to face him.