Page 12 of Once Upon a Christmas Carol

Carol noted the melancholy tone in her aunt’s voice. “But you should be able to attend ... I mean, your arm shouldn’t keep you away, should it?” She put the detergent in the dishwasher dispenser, rinsed her hands, and turned to see Maria’s downcast expression.

“Oh, yes, I’m sure I’ll go,” Maria said. “But I usually have such fun managing the decorations.”

Carol re-hung the dish towel. “Why can’t you still manage them? You did great directing Victor and me last night.”

Maria smiled. “Well, you obviously knew what you were doing. But the cotillion is different.” Her smile faded. “ Managing is the wrong word. I usually do most of the legwork.”

“Maybe this is your year to learn delegation.” Carol refilled her coffee mug and briefly described how Marsha loved ordering her around at work. “You can just sit in a chair and tell everyone what to do.”

Maria looked amused but unconvinced.

“I’d love to help if I could.” Carol checked the kitchen clock, wishing she could pack more hours into the day. The least she could do would be help make her aunt’s house Christmassy.

“No, no, I wouldn’t expect that.”

“How about if I get the rest of your house decorated today? We made some progress last night, but I know you’re hosting friends and neighbors on Christmas Eve. Can I help you get the house all spruced up for that?”

Maria brightened. “Oh, Carol, I would absolutely love that. But what about your Christmas aversion? You sure you don’t mind?”

Carol considered her answer. “Like I said, this is different. Decorating for you is nothing like doing it for some hoity-toity, hard-to-please client. Believe me.”

“Well, I appreciate anything you can do. And I don’t think I need to direct you. Unless you want me to.”

“How about we collaborate?”

Maria lifted her mug in a toast. “Here’s to collaboration.”

After putting on White Christmas to amuse Maria, Carol spent an hour bringing down the rest of the boxes of decorations from the attic.

By the time she was ready to begin, her aunt was snoozing in her recliner, still clutching her injured arm, but she looked peaceful enough that Carol hated to disturb her.

Maybe this was for the best. She knew she could get more done if left to her own devices.

And since Maria had seemed unconcerned—a refreshing change from paying clients with unrealistic expectations and goals to impress or outdo their family and friends—Carol wasn’t worried.

In fact, with cheerful music from the movie playing in the background, it was surprisingly enjoyable.

But she knew this was about to come to an end.

If she wanted to make it to the airport, she’d need to leave the farm by 3:30.

At least the weather seemed to be holding.

A few flakes were flying and the sky was gray, but each time she gazed out over the beautiful snowy landscape, she was pleased to see no blizzard brewing.

And according to her phone, her flight was still scheduled.

But she still needed to secure some ground transportation.

Not wanting to wake her snoozing aunt, she went up to her room to make these inquiries in private.

After several disappointing calls for Ubers and taxis, she knew it was useless.

No one wanted to come way out to the farm just to drive her back to the city.

They blamed everything from iffy weather to Christmastime.

Realizing Victor might be her only hope, and that it was now past two, she called him.

She couldn’t hide the desperation in her voice as she spilled her woes, finally insisting she’d pay for his gas.

But to her relief, he sounded happy to take her to the airport.

Whether he was being a good neighbor or really needed to go to the city like he claimed, she couldn’t tell. He might’ve just felt sorry for her.

Or perhaps he was just glad to see her go.

She still grimaced remembering how she’d treated him on the ride out here.

She’d been so full of herself and consumed by her worries that she’d probably offended him.

And first impressions, she knew, tended to linger.

Despite Victor’s graciousness just now, he probably considered her pretty shallow.

But as she packed her small carry-on, she thought of last night.

Hadn’t they gotten along well? Or was his help only for Maria’s sake?

Whatever the case, Victor promised to get her at 3:30, and he sounded confident they’d reach the airport on time for her flight.

Now to break the news to her aunt.

As she went down the stairs, she prepared her explanation.

First, she would thank Maria for the hospitality, then she would tell her she hoped to come back to visit again when she had more time.

And finally, she would tell her she had a flight going out early this evening.

Maria was just waking up as Carol positioned herself in front of her chair.

Clearing her throat, she made her awkward little speech.

“Victor is giving me a ride,” she said, wrapping up. “He’ll be here within the hour.”

“I suspected you were leaving.” Maria’s countenance faded.

“But I do understand. I’m just glad to have had you as long as I did.

” Her eyes suddenly opened wide, and she waved her good hand toward the fully decorated mantel above the woodstove.

“Oh my goodness.” She paused and gazed around the room.

“You’re an absolute wonder. A decorating whiz. It’s beautiful, Carol. Just beautiful!”

“Thanks. I was hoping you’d like it. I’m sure it’s not how you’d normally dec—”

“No, it’s not. It’s way better. My word. It’s stunning! Thank you so much for your hard work.”

Carol was already gathering up the last of the emptied bins, nesting them into one large box.

“I’m going to put these back in the attic with the rest of the boxes.

Get them out of the way.” Her heart felt lighter as she went back up the stairs.

It was nice to get such genuine appreciation.

Not at all like working for Marsha’s clients.

Finally, she straightened up the bedroom and bathroom she’d been using, changed into the traveling outfit she’d worn in Seattle, and then with carry-on in hand, went back down.

“Oh, Carol. You can’t possibly wear that,” Maria exclaimed when she saw her. “You’ll worry me to death—and probably catch pneumonia.”

Carol shrugged. “I’ll be okay.”

“No, no, no. You go put on jeans and a sweater right now . Before my old heart gives out. And you can wear my boots and parka to the airport. Send them back with Victor if you like, although I don’t really care.”

She complied with her aunt’s command, then hurried back down, hoping to fix a light dinner for her aunt to enjoy that evening.

She hurriedly scrounged around, finally putting a tuna sandwich and slices of apple and cheese on a plate she covered with plastic wrap.

It wasn’t much of a dinner, and she chided herself for not having offered to go to the grocery store today, but she’d been so caught up in decorating, it never occurred to her.

She was just wiping down the kitchen countertops when she heard Victor’s voice in the living room.

To her surprise, it was almost 3:30. She grabbed Maria’s parka and snow boots and hurried out.

“I put a plate with dinner in the fridge. It’s not much.” She turned to Victor. “I wish I’d thought to get her some groceries,” she explained as she tugged on the boots.

“Looks like you were busy decorating,” Victor said. “Nice work.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll get some supplies for you on my way back,” he promised Maria, kissing her lightly on the cheek. “Maybe Carol can tell me what you need on the way to the airport.”

“For sure.” She nodded as she zipped the parka. “I really appreciate the ride, Victor.” She turned to Maria, whose eyes glistened with tears.

“Oh, Aunt Maria.” Carol leaned down to give her a clumsy hug. “I mean what I said earlier. I’d love to come back for a longer visit someday. I’ve had such a great time here ... Getting to know you has been a wonderful surprise. I wouldn’t trade my layover here for anything.”

“Not even a sunny Bahamian beach?” Victor teased.

“Not even,” Carol answered.

“Well, we better get going.”

“You take care, Aunt Maria. Don’t overdo it. And please consider getting your arm checked by a doctor.” She kissed her aunt’s cheek, then whispered, “I love you.”

Maria’s tears began to flow freely now, but she nodded, mouthing “I love you” back to Carol. “Thank you for everything,” she said hoarsely.

“Thank you!” Carol said. “For everything.”

“Send me a postcard from the Bahamas,” Maria called out as Carol followed Victor to the door.

“I definitely will!” Carol blew a final kiss, then went outside, feeling hot tears stinging her eyes.

She turned away from Victor as he took her bag and tossed it into the pickup bed.

But when he opened the truck door for her, she tried to conceal her sadness by wiping her damp cheeks with the back of her hand.

They were well past town before Victor broke the silence between them.

“You and Maria seem to have hit it off.” His tone was tentative, as if he’d noticed her tears, after all.

The trouble was, she hadn’t gotten hold of her emotions yet.

She was still overwhelmed by a flood of confusing and conflicting feelings—building resentment toward her mom, guilt for leaving Maria in the lurch, sadness at departing from a home that felt more like a home than any she’d ever known.

Perhaps the last was most disturbing. Or maybe she was just feeling humiliated.

She didn’t want to admit—even to herself—that there was a lonely little girl still pining away for all she’d imagined she’d missed out on growing up.

Good grief, she was almost forty. She should have gotten over it by now. Move on!