Chapter Twelve #3
Clara let out a tired breath. She remembered that she and Brent had plans to go to the tree farm together after she got off work, which she was no longer going to.
The thought of facing him, of pretending to be his fiancée, sent a new wave of hysteria through her already stressed body.
She could feel her palms beginning to sweat.
She set her tumbler on the ground. She took off her gloves and began to fan herself with them despite the cold.
This entire situation was out of control.
She wanted to stop the rapidly spinning world and hop off for a moment to gather her thoughts.
To come up with a plan. She just wished she had a little more time for everything.
To figure out this situation with Brent.
To get a hold of Grams. She needed more time before this major meeting with Mr. Spencer.
She needed someone to step in, slow her life down, and work out everything for her. And right now she needed someone to calm her down. But the someone who was always able to do that was somewhere over the Atlantic at the moment.
She thought about calling Matthew. If there was another person who could fix a problem for her, it was him.
She realized how ridiculous it would be to bring this up with him, though.
If Lily had thought she was crazy, Clara couldn’t imagine what Matthew’s response would be.
No, she had nobody to help her out of this mess. She was on her own.
She took a few minutes to breathe slowly and focus on the beauty of her surroundings—instead of her anxiety-inducing circumstances.
It was a method Grams had taught her a few years ago after an especially tough breakup with Matthew.
It was all about letting go of what you couldn’t control and instead finding the positive in each situation.
There was opportunity in everything, no matter how hard it seemed at the time, her grandmother had told her.
Sometimes, it just took a change in perspective to find it.
Clara could feel it beginning to work. The scenery around her truly was breathtaking, and she forced her mind to focus on that.
The combination of morning sun and freshly fallen snow made everything look like a frosted cake.
She could hear the light padding of snow falling from the tree branches above her.
The feathery, cold touch of the flakes fell gently on her face.
Taking a few deep breaths of the clean winter air made her thoughts slowly turn to the holidays.
She thought about the plans Brent had made for this Christmas—well, for last Christmas.
They would bake cookies, decorate a tree, and go to parties.
They would sit by the fire with cocoa, listen to music, and exchange gifts.
Clara smiled, thinking about it all, and began to feel a twinge of excitement for Christmas again—just as she had before all of this deployment nonsense.
She grasped the chains of the swing that hung on each side of her, pushed off the ground, lifted her feet, and leaned backward.
She swung forward and threw back her head, her legs stretched out in front.
A relaxed feeling came over her as she suddenly thought about the simplicity of being a young child—pure joy, simply magical.
Magic. That was it!
They still had Christmas. She now knew that Christmas magic was undoubtedly a real—and powerful—thing.
If it could make her time travel, it could certainly make her fall in love.
Just like it did for her grandparents. If all went well, she would be ready to be engaged for real after the holidays were over.
As simple as that. Brent would never even need to know about the wish.
As far as she was concerned, they would pick up right back where they left things last year, have their romantic Christmas, and move forward with the rest of their lives.
It would be like the deployment never even happened.
After all, isn’t that exactly what she had wished for?
Clara put her feet back on the ground and nodded with resolve.
She gazed off into the distance, taking a long look at the mountains, and noticed they seemed to curl up in a coil, just as the poet Robert Frost had noted in his famous poem about her home state, “New Hampshire”.
She remembered learning the poem, written by New England’s most famous poet, right here in this school for her fifth-grade graduation.
Each student had been responsible for memorizing a few lines, which they performed at the graduation ceremony.
Clara could still remember hers. She couldn’t possibly sum up her thoughts any better than that.
Yes, she had made a decision, and now, she could finally rest. Christmas magic would make her fall in love with Brent.
Renewed with Christmas spirit and hopeful optimism, Clara felt revitalized.
She stood and brushed the snow off her jeans.
She took one last look around the playground and drank her last sip of gingerbread tea.
She had an extra bounce in her step as she started the walk home, this time offering a friendly wave to everyone she passed.
When she’d woke up that morning, she couldn’t bear the thought of facing Brent.
Now, she couldn’t wait for him to pick her up, to go pick out a tree together.
It was all she’d wanted to do from the start—spend the holidays with him.
She stopped and pulled out her phone to send him a quick text message.
Hey, called in sick to work today. Want to go to the tree farm early?
He wrote back immediately.
Definitely! Pick you up in an hour?
Can’t wait!
Her heart seemed to glow with the holiday spirit and relief over finding a simple solution. Everything was going to be okay—thanks to Christmas magic.