Page 1 of Love Letters to Christmas

Nothing beats a mail-loving roomie.

Brian

“Amelia. Amelia Christmas,” Mars—an old buddy from school back in my hometown of Bandera—says through the phone. My eyes widen as I stop spinning in my office chair.

“Amelia Christmas,” I echo, recalling the little girl, the teenager, the young woman from my past. She was always so…

pristine. So perfect. So passionate. So sweet.

No matter how old she was, I can’t remember her with anything but a darling little smile and rosy cheeks.

She was like a porcelain doll. Looking at her made me think she required a box and bubble wrap to keep her safe.

But—as I learned in my youth when I tried to ship my twin sister, Brianna, to Timbuktu—people aren’t supposed to be packaged.

It’s against regulation and was banned in 1920.

That Amelia Christmas needs a job and a place to stay? My Amelia Christmas…?

Here at Whirlwind Branding, I’m head of the mailroom and self-appointed head of morale.

Unfortunately, due to a severe lack of both mail lovers and morale boosters, my job often becomes a solo operation, like right now, where I am the only one working down here in the belly of the building’s heart and soul—our beloved basement mailroom.

In addition to making sure the mail is processed, sorted, and delivered in a timely manner, I have recently taken up side projects. Passion projects, if you will. Splayed on the monitor before me are plans for my next greatest morale-boost.

A Countdown to Easter celebration.

After the massive success of my Countdown to Valentine’s endeavor, it has become ever more obvious that the good people of Whirlwind Branding HQ want— nay! —desperately need more holiday cheer in their lives.

And I’m just the mailroom guy for the job.

Amelia would fit right in here, help me with my passion projects, and give the mail the proper attention it deserves. In other words, she’s perfect .

Snapping out of my thoughts, I grin. “Of course Amelia’s welcome anytime. I’ll personally ensure she has a job here in the company and a place to stay.”

“Really? You don’t need to talk to your boss?” Mars asks, tone peculiar in that scheming sort of way I remember. Jeepers. Wonder what he’s up to this time, and why in the world he needs Amelia out of the picture back home for his plans to work.

Anyway, that’s none of my business. What is my business is making sure dear, sweet Amelia’s well taken care of.

“If it’s Amelia, I don’t need to visit Liam.

She can work with me in the mailroom.” It’s hard to find adequate help these days, and my team’s turnover rate is…

abysmal. No one loves mail enough, and I cannot abide members who could not care less about the service we provide.

Mail, after all, is passionate work. We are the lifeblood of our company, and we should act like it.

If someone I hire doesn’t find this possible, I send them off to a metaphorical Smeerensburg, a la the movie Klaus when Jesper did not love mail enough.

Otherwise known as: I let them go. “I love Amelia. When can she start? I’ll set up my guest room for her. ”

Moments pass while Mars confers with someone on the other end of the line.

Muted voices trickle through, so I take the moment to add a few more Easter egg graphics to the presentation I’m putting together in order to pitch my idea to my boss, Liam—whose name, it should be noted, is mail spelled backwards.

Making a point of changing the egg colors so they’re seamless with the rest of the presentation’s branding, I beam at my work.

Liam’s gonna love this. It’s cute . It’s branded .

It’s full of opportunities for mai l . He’ll be handing me a company credit card and making participation mandatory in no time.

Mars interrupts my perfectly rational thoughts. “She’ll tie up some loose ends and start next month. Can you text me your address and anything else she might need to know?”

“Absolute-a-tootly.” I lean back and fiddle with one of my colorful plotting pens.

Let’s see. It’s the first of March…so… Ah.

“April 1st is a holiday,” I say. Per my first morale-building prompt of my Countdown to Easter April Fool’s Jokes event, that’ll be a prime time for people to utilize the post in their pranks.

“Terrific time for mail, I’m sure you know.

I’ll be too busy to welcome a new roomie properly.

When Amelia gets here, I’d like to be present and make sure she can settle in comfortably, so I’ll expect her on the second. ”

“Great. Thanks.” Mars has hung up before I can ask him how he’s doing, or why he’s been texting me weird questions lately.

Figures.

Mars has always been a touch off-kilter. But that is what I’ve always liked about him. That and the fact he’d let me deliver his ransom notes in high school. The man was nothing short of an artist with magazine letter cutouts.

With all the texting and calling he’s been doing lately, I do wonder if he’s still using his gift. Somehow a texted ransom note just doesn’t feel like it’d hit the same, so probably he is. I have faith in him.

Setting my phone down, I lean back in my chair and stare at the large monitor in front of me.

Happy, cute bunnies dance across my presentation, promising team-building, a better work experience, and improved morale.

Adding Amelia to the countdown starting day two improves all these projections by roughly five thousand percent.

“Amelia Christmas,” I whisper into the quiet of the mailroom on this late Friday afternoon. “A- mail -ia Christmas.” Heh. Haven’t said that for a while.

A slow smile stretches over my lips, and I lock in to finish up what has the potential to be the best holiday event Whirlwind Branding has ever seen.