Chapter 2
CHLOE
An insistent buzzing wakes me from a deep, deep sleep. The buzzing stops, but picks up again, and my sleep-fogged brain quickly realizes it’s my phone. Someone is calling me–even before my alarm goes off.
“Hello?” Sleep coats my voice, and I don’t even open my eyes to see who’s calling.
“Honey! Did I wake you up? I’m so sorry.”
“Mom? What time is it?”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t even think about that.”
I sit upright and try to brush the sleep from my eyes. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Our flight is canceled!”
I’m wide awake now. “Canceled? What do you mean?!”
I hear a scuffle, and my dad's voice comes through. “Honey, your mom means our flight is delayed. We’re waiting for more information, and we will keep you updated, okay?”
“Delayed? Why is it delayed?”
“Bad weather, honey.” My mom got the phone again. But it will all work out. We will just be a little bit later. It just means you have to make the cookies by yourself.”
With a sigh, I fall back into my pillows. “Okay… It will all work out.”
Sipping my coffee, I look at the horrendous Christmas tree in the corner of my living room. It will all work out.
“This is not a Christmas Tree,” I mumble to myself. I put my coffee down and walk closer, softly touching the leaves. “A fucking cedar tree, they gave me a fucking cedar tree.”
My phone rings, it’s my mom again. “The tree guy gave me a cedar tree instead of a pine tree, can you believe it?”
“A cedar tree? How did that happen?”
I shrug and tug at the leaves. “Don’t know, I hand-picked the perfect tree and they were supposed to deliver it, but somehow they delivered the wrong one.
” I heave out a loud sigh. “This one is pretty sad, actually, more twigs than leaves. It even has some brown spots. It doesn’t even LOOK like a Christmas tree. ”
“Well, with your Christmas spirit, I bet it will be the best tree ever when you’re done decorating.”
I sigh and straighten my shoulders. “You’re right, Mom.”
“That’s my girl. Send me pictures when you’re done?”
So, I do what I always do: I straighten my shoulders, pump up the volume, and get to work, determined to make my tree the best Christmas Tree of Vermont.
There are three giant plastic boxes labeled Christmas Ornaments.
There are more boxes containing the Garlands, Wreaths, and other cabin decorations, but those are already empty, its contents decorating the house.
These ones are stuffed with Christmas balls, ornaments, figurines, tinsel, and lots and lots of lights. Plenty to make it work, right?
I start with the lights, sighing as I approach the trunk. The trunk is thick, and it emphasizes the difference between a Christmas tree and a positive thought. I can do this. I hang the lights across the different branches, crossing the trunk.
After the lights, it’s time for Tinsel. This year, I am going with red and golden tinsel, and when I’m done, I feel pretty good about myself and the tree.
Ornaments are next, and though the branch space is limited—I can only use about a quarter of my usual amount of ornaments—I am very happy with the result.
When it comes to the masterpiece, the golden star, we have a problem.
I cannot, with the best intentions in the world, get that star on top of that tree.
I take a few steps back to change my perspective, and then it hits me.
Grinning, I grab one of my Christmas hats and, climbing the ladder, place one on top of the tree.
Perfect.