Gingerbread Grove's Yuletide Games

Chapter 1

Chapter One

MATTHEW

This blinking cursor is going to be the death of me.

I let out a heavy sigh as I stare blankly at my computer screen, wishing the code would write itself.

I’ve been working on this software update for over an hour, but I can’t keep my focus.

I’m hypnotized by the flashing line in front of me.

It’s taunting me. Mocking me. Waiting for me to input a code that it knows I can’t grasp.

Rude.

Frustrated with my lack of progress, I take off my glasses and throw them onto my desk, rubbing my eyes with enough pressure that I start seeing colourful dots, reminding me of the blinking cursor.

I can’t get away from my failures today.

The last few weeks have been like walking through a brightly-coloured fog.

It’s December, which means the streets are full of twinkling lights, hanging garlands, and painted windows.

People rush in and out of stores trying to buy the perfect presents for their loved ones.

Seemingly cheery music streams through every speaker and plays on every station.

It makes me so frustrated. All I want to do is open my window and shout ‘Bah Humbug!’

And then I feel like every Christmas movie villain that ever existed.

This is all thanks to my hometown of Woodland Springs—sorry, now Gingerbread Grove. Even though I made my escape before the name change and the adoption of some Christmas festival rivalry, it still plays a big part in my overall avoidance of the area and everyone in it.

Again, Bah Humbug.

I much prefer the tradition that my friend and business partner, Mitch, and I have started, consisting of takeout food and movie marathons.

Non-Christmas movie marathons. Endless Marvel and DC binge sessions with pizza and sushi make me forget that there’s even a holiday to be celebrated. Just the way I like it.

“Hey, man. What are you still doing here?” Mitch asks as he fills the doorway of my office, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the frame.

His dark blond hair is sticking up, making it look like he’s been running his hands through it all day.

“I thought I was the one that pulls all-nighters, not you.”

“I’m beginning to wonder that myself.” I push my rolling chair back, giving me room to stretch out my legs. “I’m not getting much done on the most recent update.”

I take a good look at my friend and realize how worn down he’s looking. He has dark circles under his eyes and his shoulders are slouched. How have I not noticed how run down he was getting? Maybe I’m too caught up in my own yuletide sadness to pay attention to anyone else’s problems.

“Then go home and try again tomorrow. You still have a while before the deadline.” He walks into my office and takes a seat in the chair across from me, placing his ankle on his opposite knee.

“Same could be said for you.”

He waves a hand at me, disregarding my comment. “What’s really going on with you? You’ve been off for weeks now.”

I let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t know.”

I swivel in my chair to face the window overlooking the skyline, and steeple my fingers in front of my lips as I look out at the city below.

The twinkling lights and soft falling snow give the otherwise dreary concrete buildings a festive glow, but I can’t seem to make my heart grow to enjoy it.

Instead, I’m filled with a sense of—dread?

Foreboding? Possibly even of looming disaster?

It was sheer luck we were able to find this office on Vancouver’s waterfront all those years ago.

The first office space we leased when Mitch and I first came to the city fell through the night before we were to move in.

We had to frantically call all the companies that were to be delivering our office furniture the next day, stalling them while we tried to find a new space.

The week before Christmas. We ended up running our business out of our shared apartment for three miserable months.

Just another Christmas disaster in a long list of many.

Some say miracles happen at Christmas. I think that’s only reserved for the lucky, or maybe for those that look for anything that might be a sign or a gift during the season. What do I see it as? An excuse for people to see what they want to believe.

While the office we ended up with might not be as trendy as our original one, it has its merits.

Located in the industrial side of the city with a less than picturesque view, it still gives me a sense of pride knowing that we were able to do it.

We found space and opened our company in Vancouver, just like Mitch and I had been talking about since high school.

It’s given us both a feeling that we’ve made it from our little nowhere town.

We had a lot of doubt and ridicule thrown at us as we left Woodland Springs and moved to Vancouver, but both Mitch and I were willing to grin and bear it to make our dream come true. Which we have.

So why am I so unhappy?

“Do you miss Emily?” Mitch asks, pulling me out of my growing feeling of nostalgia.

“No. She hasn’t even crossed my mind,” I answer truthfully with a chuckle as I turn back around to face him.

Emily is beautiful and fun, but I knew what we had wasn’t going to be long term.

We both did, even if neither one of us wanted to admit it.

We were both tired of being alone and enjoyed each other’s company.

I didn’t mind all the restaurants she wanted to try or the movies she wanted to see.

She was genuinely interested in my work and liked going for walks along the seawall or strolling through the downtown core on a Sunday afternoon.

She didn’t ask for more than I was willing to give her, which was basically just glorified friendship.

She was comfortable to be around. Easy to talk to.

There just wasn’t a spark there, and we both knew it early on, even if neither one of us wanted to admit it.

Thankfully, she pulled the plug a few weeks ago, asking me to be her plus one to her company Christmas party to avoid any unnecessary questions and we could part ways while remaining friends, which we’ve been able to do.

“Then, what is it? Don’t tell me you’re homesick.” Genuine concern crosses Mitch’s face.

“Definitely not. There is nothing about Woodland Creek that I miss.”

“Gingerbread Grove,” he corrects with a smirk.

I groan. “Don’t remind me.” I rub my hands over my eyes again before picking up my glasses and placing them back on my face. “I don’t know what it is. I feel…unsettled.”

“Unsettled? How?”

I turn my chair to the side, looking back out the window. I don’t know how to explain it. This off feeling I’ve had, but it’s there, burning in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t know. Just that something’s missing.”

“Again, is that Emily?”

“You know we were only ever friends. In fact, if I remember correctly, you were the one that constantly pointed out how much we were more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean her absence hasn’t left a hole in your life. Maybe you need to get back out there. Date. Find someone who you genuinely connect with.”

I groan, not wanting to have this discussion. Not now. Not ever, really.

As if saved by the Christmas miracle that everyone speaks of, my phone rings, halting the conversation. It’s only when I look at the caller on my screen that I sigh, realizing that there is no miracle to be had here. “It’s like she knows we’re talking about the town and my love life.”

Mitch chuckles, looking down at my screen. “Are you going to answer it?”

He leans back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head as he dons a smirk on his face. I know he only wears that expression because his only relative back in our hometown hasn’t contacted him since the day we left.

I, on the other hand, have a family that calls to try to lure me back as often as they can. Which I’m sure is what is about to happen right now.

“Hi, Mom,” I say as I put my phone to my ear, bracing myself for the guilt trip that’s about to occur.

“Oh, honey, I’m so glad I caught you!” Her voice sounds a little more frantic than usual, but still has the same pleading tone she uses when she wants me to come back home.

I love my mom, I really do, but I can’t go back.

Especially since it’s currently being turned into Santa’s Village, or some cookie-themed variation of it.

I know that I’ll be able to get her off the phone quickly with my usual promise of not ‘falling to the dark side of the big city.’ It’s the same song and dance we do every time.

It’s almost as if she works herself up into a tizzy and needs reminding that I’m just fine.

That’s right, she’s got me using words like ‘tizzy.’

“What’s going on?” I ask, waving Mitch back into his seat as he moves to leave.

“It’s your dad. He’s taken a fall.”

I sit up straighter, locking eyes with Mitch as my assured demeanour falls. He responds with a raised eyebrow, leaning closer in his chair.

“What happened?”

“He was up on a ladder fixing a strand of Christmas lights that had fallen off its hook when he missed a rung and fell from halfway up.” Mom’s voice shakes as if she’s fighting off tears. “He’s in the hospital, Matty.”

“Is he okay?” Right now, my concern for my dad outweighs my irritation at the use of my childhood nickname, which I have never been able to stand.

“He will be. He broke his leg and bruised some ribs.”

“Why didn’t Todd do it? Isn’t he supposed to be home for Christmas?” Unlike my aversion to Gingerbread Grove, my brother Todd has never had an issue with returning. A fact I hear about every Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.

“He left a day early. He had to get back to Sun Peaks. Something about a conference or major booking.”

Ah, yes. The important hotel manager that couldn’t be spared at all from his job for more than a few days.

“Anyway,” she continues, “it was something, and it’s beside the point. I need you to come home as soon as possible.”

“What?” Panic courses through my veins as I sit up straighter. “Mom, you know I can’t do that.”

Mitch mimics my movements, sitting up and leaning into the desk, his questioning looks turning to concern.

“Of course you can, Matty. We need you here. Your dad will be coming home from the hospital today, but he’s going to be on bed rest for weeks, and I can’t run the store and look after him.”

The store. Of course. Part of the reason I left town and never looked back.

“Can’t Todd help? He’s closer.”

“No, he can’t come back until the new year.

He only stopped by this weekend because he was going to miss Christmas with us because of their bookings, you know.

It’s a very busy and important hotel in the city…

” Mom’s voice goes quiet, leading way to a soft sniffle on the other end of the line.

I know it’s been a shock with dad’s fall, but even she has to admit she’s laying it on thick.

“Please? I know I ask you to come home a lot, and that’s because I miss you.

Seeing you in the city isn’t the same. But this time we need you here, and it is Christmas and all. Please?”

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose with my free hand. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I know I have to go. If the shop has to close for the holiday season, my parents will take a financial hit I’m not sure they’ll be able to recover from.

Even at the sake of my own sanity.

I let out a breath and close my eyes. “Let me talk to Mitch. I’ll call you back tonight.”

“Oh, thank you, Matty!” Mom replies excitedly. “You have no idea how much this means to me!”

“I haven’t promised anything, Mom. I don’t know if I can get away, especially with it being the end of the year…”

“I knew you’d help. You may have moved away but you’re always a Gingerbreadian at heart.”

I cringe. “Mom, I’m not a…”

“Love you!” she yells before ending the call, not letting me finish.

I look down at my screen, wondering what had just happened. “She just called me a ‘Gingerbreadian?’ Is that really a thing?”

“Yes,” Mitch answers without batting an eye, now sitting on the edge of his seat. I’m beginning to worry that I’m missing more than just how tired he is if he knows words like ‘Gingerbreadian.’ “Now, what was all that about?”

I drop my shoulders and meet his gaze, not even bothering to hide my defeat. “Looks like I’m going back to Gingerbread Grove.”