A Curvy Carol (A Curvy Girl Christmas #2)

1. Carolynn

1

CAROLYNN

I t’s the least wonderful time of the year.

Unfortunately, my parents didn’t get that memo. My mom’s place was entirely decked out in holiday decor from bottle-brush Christmas trees on every spare surface to the spray snow stuck on the windows and the smell of tree-shaped sugar cookies baking so we could decorate them later.

There was no escaping Christmas. Not when you had my parents. And not when you lived in Garland, Maine, a place renowned for its holiday celebrations.

In fact, my only “safe” territories were my bedrooms at my mom and dad’s places, where I refused to have any Christmas decor. No red, green, gold or blue touched this space. But I could still smell the sugar cookies baking as I worked on my latest embroidery project–a black cat sitting atop a stack of books.

A few knocks sounded on my bedroom door. “Carolynn, don’t forget we have plans tonight, okay?” Mom said.

“Okay, Mom,” I said halfheartedly with a sigh. I gathered my cross-stitch project into my favorite tote bag.

The door opened, and Mom peeked her head in, Rudolph antlers nestled amongst her curls. “You’re going to look so cute in that sweater I got you. Did you see it in your closet?”

I nodded. “I saw it.” Mom liked to order me Christmas clothes each year and laid them out in my closet to make sure I wore them. She was obsessed with creating a picture-perfect family and making me feel normal despite the divorce.

The truth was, I hated all the holiday activities she and Dad planned for me every year. Making each year a Christmas to remember was such a big deal to them, especially since the big D, meaning I couldn’t really relax or have fun. All I wanted was to spend time with my friends and work on my crafting projects while school was out.

I picked up my tote bag and walked to the bedroom door where she waited. “I’ll see you later.”

“Tell the girls I said merry Christmas!”

“I will,” I mumbled. Before she could say much else, I went out the front door and made my way to Cider Center.

Belle and the rest of my friends were probably already there. The lighting of the tree was one of their favorite things about Garland. I liked going with my friends, even if I wasn’t crazy about the holidays anymore.

Several minutes later, I found Belle, Bethany, Holly, and Sera in the crowd.

They hugged me hello, and we found a good spot near the front to watch the star being put on the tree and lit up.

All around us, kids screamed to be put on their dad’s shoulders, and moms held fussy toddlers and babies. A small tug of jealousy hit my chest at seeing the intact families.

To shake the feeling, I stared up at the Christmas tree. It stood well over thirty feet tall, covered in so many lights and ornaments that it took your breath away. Even for someone like me, who wished I could fast-forward through December every year.

I had to admit, something about the tree was special. Legend said that this tree had been crafted at the North Pole itself. Some people liked to make a wish when the star was set atop the tree, believing that there was actual magic in Garland that made wishes come true. But I stopped making wishes a few years back. Not even the Garland tree could stop my parents’ separation.

The firetruck beeped as the ladder raised next to the tree. The mayor of Garland always did the honors of placing the star atop the tree, so once the ladder stalled, he made his way up, up, up toward the very tip of the tree. Little kids cheered and laughed and pointed.

“Here we go,” Belle said excitedly under her breath.

I lifted my lips at her excitement. At least she still enjoyed the season.

When the mayor reached the top of the tree, he pulled out a megaphone, the large star in his other hand. “It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” he said, echoing the familiar song. “Today, it’s my honor as your mayor to place the star on the tree and light up Garland, knowing that the holiday spirit of the people of Garland shines brighter than any light on this tree.”

Carefully, he placed the star at the very top. Whispers sounded around me, hundreds of people making their wishes. Each of my friends had their eyes closed, lips silently moving.

Out of nowhere, I made a quick wish, keeping my eyes on the star. I just wish to enjoy Christmas this year, I thought to myself .

A second later, the star lit up. Its bright light made the crowd gasp and clap. And even though I forced a smile on my face so my friends wouldn’t worry, I could hardly remember the last time I looked forward to Christmas, much less truly enjoyed it.

The last few years, it had transformed from a fun time of year in Garland to activity after activity and photo after photo split between my two parents. It was like they’d forgotten what Christmas was really about and turned it into a competition or a big, long list of things to cross off.

After the mayor came down and thanked everyone for coming, my friends and I gathered around to talk. “Wish on anything special this year?” I asked the group, rubbing my hands together for warmth.

“Just that we remain friends like this forever. No matter what,” Sera said. She always said something sweet.

“That’s a great wish,” Belle replied.

Holly glanced toward Santa’s Workshop down the street. “So, who do you think will be picked to be Santa this year?”

This was another one of the things that made Garland special. Every year, someone was selected to be Santa and would take pictures with kids at the mall. It was a big honor to be picked, although the process of getting selected was a huge mystery. No one even really knew for sure how to apply or how you got nominated. And no one ever knew Santa’s true identity either.

“Maybe they’ll pick Mr. Thornton,” I joked about our grumpy, middle-aged math teacher. He was definitely more Grinch than Santa material.

Everyone else shuddered.

We walked away from the tree and kept making guesses, each one crazier and crazier.

As we reached Cocoa Corner, the local coffee shop, we all got ready to part ways.

Everyone had something different going on for Christmas this next week. We would hardly be able to see each other.

Not that I would’ve had time with everything my parents had planned anyway. So the five of us agreed to meet up on New Year’s Eve at Haley’s big blowout party. I always loved that party–not just because it was fun, but it meant I had a whole year before having to do the Christmas thing again.

I glanced down at my crafting bag. Hopefully, I’d have time to finish my friends’ cross-stitch gifts by then.

We all said our goodbyes and I gave my friends a final wave and made my way to the Garland bookstore. They had cozy chairs where I could sit and cross-stitch for a while. I would’ve preferred my room at home, but Mom was there and what I really needed was some peace.

I loved my parents, but lately it was like they weren’t really listening to me at all. I had no idea how to get through to them that the Christmas Olympics wasn’t my idea of a good time. They didn’t have to make up for the divorce by making Christmas as cheery as possible—we could just settle into a new normal. One that involved a lot less tinsel.

Sitting in the bookstore turned out to be just what I needed. I made good progress on my project, getting lost in each stitch while listening to music playing softly over the speakers.

After half an hour or so, when I got up to stretch, I saw a book on the shelf. It was like a sign. It was some sort of self-help book on family conflict and setting boundaries. I flipped through the pages, then sat back down, reading a few chapters, my project forgotten. For the first time, I didn’t feel so powerless over the situation. An idea was starting to tease at the edges of my mind–one that could change everything.

I bought the book, because it didn’t feel right not to after reading so much of it, then grabbed my stuff and went home.

I couldn’t take another Christmas like this, smiling on the outside and secretly miserable on the inside. I wouldn’t even have my friends around to make it better with how busy we all were.

My heart started beating quicker as I got home and set my stuff down. Mom walked into the living room from the kitchen, untying the back of her Christmas-themed apron. “Oh, good. You’re home. Now we can head over to your dad’s to get started on the popcorn garlands.”

“Mom,” I jumped in, not believing I was really going to do this. I felt almost lightheaded as I said, “I’m not going.”

Her mouth fell open, and I could tell she was getting ready to read me the riot act or fuss over me, sure I had to be sick or delirious or both.

But I continued, trying to sound firm. “I’m not celebrating Christmas with either of you this year.”

Now she looked aghast. “ Carolynn .”

“I want a family meeting,” I said. “We need to talk.”