Christmas Memory

January 31, 2019 “Be careful on that ladder,” Memory said, staring up at her older sister Kirsten as she took another step higher toward the top of the Christmas tree.“You mean like this?” Kirsten asked, leaning backward at a precarious angle and waving one arm around, though the other still gripped a rung.“That’s not funny!” Memory glared up at her, holding firm to the ladder to steady it.“Relax, sis. No one’s going to the hospital today.” Kirsten reached the top of the tree and carefully pulled the angel tree topper off, handing it down to Memory, who let go with one hand to take it.Memory studied the angel for a moment. This was her grandmother’s favorite piece. Every year, when the girls’ dad, Bryce, placed it on top of the tree, Grandma Helen would tell the story of how Grandpa J

Helen took a deep breath, glad to hear it, but the worries didn’t go away quite so easily. As a grandmother, it had been her primary responsibility to worry about her granddaughters for the better part of the last thirty years. “Did you say... watch them?”Stella’s eyes bulged briefly, and Helen watched her throat tighten and then stretch as if she were swallowing something large. “What’s that, now?”“You said you like to watch sometimes.” Helen glanced around the room. “How do you do that, exactly? Could we watch the meet-cute?”“Oh, that.” Stella shook her head quickly, shrugging at the same time. “I don’t actually.... We can’t.... The Big Guy frowns upon anyone other than higher administrative staff, such as myself, doing that. It’s safer that way, you see.”“Safer?” Helen asked.

Memory walked out of the corner coffee shop, sipping her latte, her grandmother’s journal tucked under her arm. The snow beneath her feet crunched, which was better than the slush it would become once the sun was overhead. Her phone dinged, so rather than heading straight for the shop a few doors down, she took a seat on a bench and pulled the device out of her pocket, hopeful it was confirmation that the store she’d been talking to in Indianapolis had decided to place that order for the candy cane ornaments they’d been chatting about for the last few weeks.The bench was snow free, so she set the book down next to her and pulled her glove off with her teeth, shoving it into her pocket so she could open the email. Scanning over it quickly, she saw that it was good news. “Thank goodness,” she muttered, looking up at the heavens. Normally, she’d say something to Grandma Helen in this situation, promising her she wasn&rsq

Appearing out of thin air was a sensation that was going to take a little getting used to. Luckily for Helen, no one was around when she suddenly came to find herself standing around the corner from the town square. She looked down at the bright red coat she was wearing, along with black slacks and very practical, yet stylish, black boots with faux fur trim around the top and thought Stella had done a nice job. With a large, but not gaudy, gold and black handbag slung over her arm, Helen took a deep breath and headed for the shop.She’d only gone a few steps when she caught her own reflection in the window of the empty store next to her destination. “Oh, my!” she gasped, looking herself over. She certainly looked different! Her hair was short and curly—and a fiery red! She ran her hand along the bottom of each side, giving it a little poof. Several inches taller than she was used to being, even without the boots, Helen dared to sa

Helen took the opportunity to go back over everything she’d told her granddaughter so far. Stella was right—she’d done quite a bit of elaborating--and it might be difficult to remember all of the details. She realized Memory hadn’t asked her where she was visiting from, so she decided to tell her St. Charles, Illinois, if she asked since it also had a reputation as a town where the people loved Christmas, and she’d mentioned owning a Christmas shop. Helen thought she had everything sorted out so that by the time the customers left, she was ready to launch phase two of her plan—if she could call introducing herself and blundering through a conversation phase one. So far, she hadn’t done anything to help Memory have a meet-cute with Dakota. In fact, Helen hadn’t even met Dakota yet. She’d have to be patient.“You know, dear, I’ve noticed you don’t have much of a staff,” Helen sai