Chapter 2
Nora stared at the wreath on the door. It was filled with pinecones and baubles, and there was a big red bow at the bottom. It was infuriatingly festive.
The door swung open, revealing Everett.
Everett Sun. She hadn’t known his last name until a minute ago, when she’d heard a noise at her door.
She’d opened it to find a package. To her frustration, it wasn’t the one she’d been expecting, but one meant for the person who lived across from her.
She could have left it in front of his door, but someone on the first floor had apparently had a package stolen the other day, so she’d decided to knock.
Besides, it was obvious he was home from the music.
“Hi, Nora.” Everett smiled and adjusted the square frames perched on his nose.
The damn man was always smiling whenever she saw him, and in that red flannel shirt, he looked like an Asian Santa Claus. He didn’t have a big white beard, but he did have a neatly trimmed black one, as well as a rather round physique.
It also looked like Christmas had thrown up in his apartment, which contributed to the whole Santa thing.
Over his shoulder, she could see a Christmas tree with lights in a rainbow of colors.
It was loaded down with ornaments, including a star that twinkled at the top.
On a small table, there was a Christmas village set, sitting atop a cotton wool sheet that was meant to be snow.
The lights in all four buildings were on, making it look like miniature families were cozying up inside.
Nora pulled herself together. She should stop assessing her neighbor’s Christmas decorations and do what she came here to do. She thrust the cardboard box in his direction.
“This was delivered to me,” she said, “but it’s yours.”
“Thanks.” His grin broadened. He looked at her as though she’d done him a great kindness, even though she’d merely taken a minute to hand over a misdelivered package.
Rather than closing his door, he ripped off the packing tape and opened the box, revealing…even more ornaments.
“Perfect timing,” he said. “I was just decorating my tree and…oh.” He held up an ornament that depicted three reindeer having what could only be called an orgy. “This isn’t what I ordered.”
She arched an eyebrow.
“Really, it’s not.” He shoved the ornament back in the box and pulled out another one.
It was a naked Santa figurine, but the naughty bits were covered by a large stocking.
“Nor is this.” The tips of Everett’s ears were almost as red as his shirt.
“I wouldn’t have opened the box in front of you if I’d known what was in here.
They must have given me someone else’s order.
The store sells lots of interesting Christmas décor. ”
He was clearly surprised and embarrassed, so she was inclined to believe him. Not that there was anything wrong with the existence of such ornaments, but opening them in front of a woman he barely knew? She might have worried about uncomfortable sexual comments.
Instead, he said, “Hopefully, they have decent customer service rather than a useless chatbot.”
“Yeah, those can be terrible. I ended up going in circles with one the other day. But least you didn’t travel to the store during a storm.”
Though even as she spoke, she considered the fact that unlike her, Everett looked like someone who enjoyed being outdoors in winter, if there wasn’t a snowstorm. He had a bit of a lumberjack vibe going on. Maybe it was just the flannel shirt.
He nodded. “I hope you don’t have to go anywhere this weekend.”
“No, I’ll be home.” She glanced at his tree. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Even though she hadn’t intended it, her voice sounded a touch snarky.
Unfortunately, this didn’t escape his notice.
“Do you celebrate Christmas?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“But you’re not a fan of it?”
“Not really. It’s just…a lot.”
A new Christmas song started playing from his stereo. He sang along softly, and she didn’t join in. She couldn’t believe she was being subjected to so much holiday spirit. Nora knew she wasn’t being fair, but everything was getting on her nerves right now.
“You don’t like bells or mistletoe?” he said. “Or tinsel?”
She shuddered. Tinsel was barely a step above glitter—and she was still finding glitter from the craft project she’d gotten from her niece back in April.
“What about the food? Candy canes? Cookies? Gingerbread houses? I have an extra advent calendar if you want one.”
“Of course you do,” she muttered. “Thank you, but no. I don’t need a holiday to eat sweets.”
“Snowmen? Snow angels? Sleigh rides?”
“Have you ever actually been on a sleigh ride? That’s not something most people do.”
“What about cuddling up by the fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate?”
“We live in a high-rise,” she said. “I don’t have a fireplace. As for the rest of it…” God, now she was thinking of snuggling up with him, and that wouldn’t do. She blamed it on the orgiastic reindeer ornament, even if those reindeer were doing a lot more than snuggling.
“Let me guess. You don’t need a holiday to make you cuddle.”
“Precisely.”
He didn’t call her out on her obvious lie.
“Have fun with your Christmas tree,” she said, trying not to sound snarky this time. And with that, she returned to her apartment and put the celebration of Christmas out of her mind.
But when she was wide awake at three in the morning—an increasingly common occurrence these days—“Jingle Bell Rock” was stuck in her head.
She sighed. Damn Everett. But at least that interaction had been real, unlike so many things in the world these days.
“Should I meet up with him?” Aimee asked before sipping her decaf peppermint latte. They were sitting by the window at a coffee shop.
“You’ve been talking to him for a few weeks now, so…I guess?” Nora always struggled with giving romance-related advice. It really wasn’t her area of expertise. “But don’t tell him where you live. Meet him in public.”
“Of course.”
“If you need an out, just text me, and I’ll call you with a convenient emergency. And if you go home with him, give me his address.”
Aimee went through phases where she dedicated herself to online dating…and then she’d deleted all the apps from her phone…and then restart the whole process a few months later. A bad experience or three didn’t seem to dim her hope that “the one” was out there somewhere. Not for long, anyway.
Nora, on the other hand, had given up. It was the logical thing to do after she’d fallen for a romance scam. She couldn’t help thinking of that now—she’d met him on an app, more than two years ago.
“And if he…” She couldn’t finish that sentence. She gripped her mug and tried not to imagine all the possibilities. There were physical dangers, as well as other kinds.
Knowing what was on her mind, Aimee reached out and squeezed her hand. Aimee was her best friend—her only real friend, in fact—and she was the sole person who knew what had happened to Nora.
Nora had been too ashamed to tell anyone else.
“Hey, did you see that snow sculpture?” Aimee picked up her phone and navigated to a picture on social media. “Isn’t it cool that someone made this out of snow?”
Nora was thankful for the change in topic. She pulled the phone out of her friend’s hand and took a look. There were two bears sculpted from snow, each gripping a hockey stick in their paws. They also sported toques, which was silly. Why would a bear need to wear a winter hat?
But that wasn’t her biggest problem with it.
“Look at the bear’s fur.” Nora zoomed in. “It’s clearly AI.”
“No, it’s not,” Aimee said. “It’s in a Toronto park.”
Nora shook her head. “It’s definitely fake.”
“It’s everywhere on social media today.”
“Have you seen pictures from multiple angles, or is everyone sharing the same photo?”
“The same photo.” Aimee sounded dejected.
People wanted to believe things like this were real, but there was so much garbage online. Seriously, what were the chances that such a snow sculpture would just appear? That nobody saw the sculpting process or knew who had done it?
Yes, like the picture of hundred-year-old identical triplets that Nora had stumbled across the other day, it was fake. Though she felt bad about shattering Aimee’s illusions, she couldn’t ignore the issues with the image.
She drank her tea, but it wasn’t enough to warm her.
Everett shouldn’t spend so much time on social media. It wasn’t good for his blood pressure. But dammit, he wanted to see the reaction to his snow sculpture.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite what he’d hoped.
The first picture was suspected of being AI. The person who’d shared it had only posted a single photo, and they hadn’t returned to refute any of the accusations. Though even if they had, Everett acknowledged that it might not have made a difference.
And so, in addition to all the people who thought it was cool, there were lots of people who thought it was fake.
Goddammit.
That sculpture was definitely real, thank you very much.
Growing up in the Bay Area, he’d had little experience with snow until his family moved to Canada when he was eleven. His Chinese American father had met his Chinese Canadian mother when she’d come to the US for university, and she wanted to return to her hometown.
In Victoria, Everett had…well, still not much experience with snow.
Victoria got little snow compared to the rest of Canada.
But when he was thirteen, there’d been a few centimeters of accumulation.
He’d wanted to make a snowball, and somehow, it had just formed at the thought.
He hadn’t needed to pack snow into a ball, then roll it on the ground to make it bigger. Not, it had simply happened.
“Did you see that?” he’d shouted to his older brother.
His brother had shrugged. He’d been going through a phase where he was unimpressed with everything. “You made a snowball. So what?”
That was his only attempt to ever tell someone the truth.
Over time, Everett had realized that no one could actually see him work with snow, though afterward, they could see his creations.
He’d also discovered that he could make much more impressive things than snowballs.
If he thought very, very carefully about exactly what he wanted, he could make it happen.
The snow, however, had to already be on the ground for him to work his magic; he couldn’t conjure snow out of thin air.
He’d practiced in private and destroyed his creations afterward, not wanting to draw any attention.
For university, he’d moved east, to somewhere that got more snow than Victoria. He started leaving some of his smaller snow sculptures up, hoping someone would enjoy them, and over the years, he’d developed a fantasy, of sorts.
A dream of making snow sculptures all over the city where he now lived. Uniting Toronto in a magical mystery, just before Christmas, as sculptures appeared at random.
He would have loved something like that as a kid. Some adults forgot what it was like to be a child, but he never had.
Alas, it wasn’t going as planned.
Eventually, he came across additional pictures of the snow sculpture, taken from different angles. One of the pictures was a selfie, a snow bear’s face in the background. But the algorithm wasn’t sharing these photos. It favored posts that garnered outrage.
Well, no matter. Everett wouldn’t let this stop him. He’d proceed as usual tonight.
His mind drifted to the white woman who lived across the hall. He couldn’t help wondering if Nora had seen any of these pictures. After their conversation the other evening—the most words they’d exchanged in the two years he’d lived here—she kept popping into his mind at random times.
She seemed like the sort who considered smiling a weakness, and she’d never let herself smile around him, not once—the ornament mishap had only led to a raised eyebrow.
He had the inexplicable urge to change that, even though he barely knew her.
To show her some Christmas magic that would bring an unconscious smile to her face.
It was a silly desire, but he couldn’t help it.
Hopefully, she liked walruses.
Nora had run out of Scotch tape. She now had three options: she could use duct tape, she could put the presents in gift bags, or she could go out to get some more Scotch tape.
With a sigh, she admitted that the third option was the best.
Duct tape—the only tape now in her possession—would not make for very pretty gifts.
Although she had a few gift bags, she recalled finding such things disappointing as a kid; they weren’t as satisfying as tearing open paper.
And while the holidays might not feel magical to her now, she did want her niece and nephew to have a good time.
It was eight thirty at night, but the nearest Shoppers would still be open. She put on her winter boots and coat. The temperature was well below freezing, but it was a short walk, and at least it wasn’t snowing.
As she locked her door, a delivery person approached. He carried a helmet in one hand and a very large order of food in the other. To Nora’s surprise, he knocked on Everett’s door.
Her neighbor lived alone. Did he have company?
Everett opened the door, and Nora didn’t fail to notice that his apartment was quiet. It didn’t look like he had visitors, but she could be wrong. Besides, it wasn’t any of her business.
When he caught her looking, she turned away and hurried outside.