A Curvy Carol (A Curvy Girl Christmas #2)

8. Whit

8

WHIT

W e met at a place a few minutes from Cider Center called Santa’s Elves, and it turned out to be one of the most magical places in Garland.

The building that housed Santa’s Elves was larger than the boutique that was Santa’s Bag, and it seemed older too, like it’d been around for a long time and could’ve used a fresh coat of paint or two.

But apparently, this place did a lot of good in the world. They made sure there were gifts for every child in Garland when their parents couldn’t afford it, packaged Christmas meals for families who’d fallen on hard times, and even visited the elderly who were missing their loved ones this season.

A lady named Mrs. Mulberry ran it. She could’ve passed for a real-life Mrs. Claus, both in looks and how saint-like she seemed.

Mrs. Mulberry gave me a tour of the place, from the food pantry to the storage closets full of clothes and other donations to the industrial kitchen. “Our incredible volunteers have kept this place going for almost eighty years,” she said as we made our way back to the front. “And I suspect another eighty if I have any say in it. We make a difference for a lot of families in and around Garland. Our mission is to bring a little love and Christmas magic to as many people and children as we can every year, whether it’s the Christmas season or not.”

Carolynn turned to me as we reached the reception desk. “My friends and I volunteer here about once a month. There’s always something to do.”

“I bet,” I replied, looking around. “What a cool place.”

A woman with a toddler in tow walked in, and Mrs. Mulberry told her to wait a moment before turning to us. “Carolynn, honey, why don’t you both take pantry duty this week?”

Carolynn nodded. “Sure thing, Mrs. Mulberry.”

She led me toward the pantry, and I followed, wondering what pantry duty was.

The plan was to spend a few hours here, doing what we could to help. We went inside, where large shelves full of canned goods and household items lined the walls.

“What’s pantry duty?” I asked.

Carolynn turned to me. “We’re going to go through and check the expiration dates of the canned food. Make sure nothing expires within two weeks. It’s easy. Come on.”

She showed me what to do. It was pretty simple. I was able to reach the items highest up on the shelves, while she went through the bottom shelves.

In no time, we had set aside a handful of items that were going to expire soon.

After that, Mrs. Mulberry had us pack up several care baskets for some of the elderly folks in town. She gave us a list of what to include, and once again, we got to work.

Carolynn had a way of making the baskets look really nice, so I began modeling mine after hers. And it turned out I had a knack for tying the bright red ribbon.

“How do you get it perfect every time?” Carolynn asked, clearly frustrated with hers.

I moved over to help her, taking the ribbon in my hands. My fingers ended up brushing hers, and I could’ve sworn I saw her blush a little. “Like this,” I said, making a big bow in no time. “Having parents like mine has its advantages, I guess.”

We’d spent hours upon hours making everything perfect at the lodge, including the bows hanging in every corner. But I liked doing this better, especially getting to do it with Carolynn.

Mrs. Mulberry walked in and brought her hands together in excitement. “Oh, you two have done a wonderful job.”

We grinned.

“What can we help with next?” I asked, my hand on one of the baskets.

“Actually, these baskets need to start going out. Someone’s coming by tomorrow to help me deliver most of them, but I have one that needs to go out today.”

“Okay,” Carolynn said. “Just tell us where.”

Pretty soon, we were on our way.

“That place is pretty neat,” I told Carolynn as we walked. I held the basket in my arms.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Most people think so. The city is able to fund a good part of it, but they’re always looking for donations and volunteers to be able to do more.”

“Well,” I said. “They just got one more volunteer.”

Now I had at least one place I could go when I was bored or lonely. It was great feeling useful and like I could make a difference. I wondered if my parents knew about Santa’s Elves. Maybe they could make an ongoing donation. I made a mental note to ask them about it later.

After walking for twenty minutes or so, we reached an old house on the outskirts of town. The yard was covered in a blanket of snow and the driveway only had a small path shoveled for someone to walk through, but the Christmas tree in the window shone bright and merry.

“This is Mrs. Sanderson’s house,” Carolynn said as we walked up the front steps. “Her husband passed away several years ago, and she doesn’t have any family in town.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, especially with the sad feeling in my chest, so I watched her knock on the front door.

A minute later, it opened up to reveal an old lady with short snow-white hair. “Carolynn,” she beamed. “And who’s this? Come on in.”

We went into a home that looked like something out of an old Christmas movie. The walls were covered in wood paneling, and every spare surface had cotton made to look like Christmas fluff, decorated with small figurines, snow globes, and even a nativity set.

“This is amazing,” I said, glancing around. “Do you collect Christmas decorations?”

She gave a hearty chuckle. “I thought that was required of everyone in Garland.”

Carolynn laughed, and the sound warmed me in a way I hadn’t expected. “That’s the truth.”

“Come sit,” she offered us. “Carolynn, I want to hear all about your latest projects and your handsome friend here.”

My cheeks flushed, and Carolynn grinned at me like she was enjoying my embarrassment.

Mrs. Sanderson turned out to be a really nice lady. She talked and talked and talked, and we listened.

She was grateful for the care basket, and she offered us cookies in return. We sat down at her kitchen table to enjoy them.

“Belle dropped these by just yesterday,” she told us.

I turned to Carolynn, wondering if she knew who Belle was. Everyone seemed to know each other here, except for me.

“She’s one of my best friends,” Carolynn explained. “She makes the best cookies in town.”

“More than just the town. These are probably the best cookies I’ve ever had in my life,” I said, taking another bite.

Mrs. Sanderson poured us each a glass of milk, and I was a little sad when my cookies were gone.

We stayed and chit-chatted a little more. I spotted a cross-stitch hanging above her mantel that said Merry Christmas in fancy cursive print. I pointed to it inquisitively as we walked into the living room. It looked like some of the things I’d seen in Carolynn’s bag, but she didn’t like to do Christmas designs.

Mrs. Sanderson’s eyes crinkled when she smiled, and it reminded me of my own grandmother. She was visiting us after the Christmas rush at the lodge died down. “Carolynn made me that lovely piece,” Mrs. Sanderson told me with a smile. “Last year. I get compliments on it all the time.”

My eyebrows drew together as I gave Carolynn a questioning look. I thought she didn’t like Christmas. And she didn’t act like the type to go around making Christmas presents for little old ladies in town. Was this just another one of her yearly traditions with her parents, or was there a side to Carolynn I hadn't yet seen?

Carolynn’s cheeks flushed as she turned to Mrs. Sanderson. “I’m glad you love it.”

After that, we headed back into town. “Feeling like a hot chocolate?” Carolynn asked me.

I looked at her in surprise. “I thought you didn’t like hot chocolate, Christmas Carol,” I teased.

She shrugged. “I’m in the mood for one today.”

“Okay,” I said with a grin. It was cold out, so a steaming hot mug of anything in my hands sounded great. “That was nice of you, by the way, to make her that cross-stitch.”

“I liked making it for her,” Carolynn said. “I’m actually working on something else for her this year that I’m hoping Santa can deliver.”

We kept walking and chatting, and the more we did, the more I realized Carolynn really had a soft heart under that seemingly hard exterior. She was funny too.

I also couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever come out of her shell long enough to be more than just a friend.

We’d only met a couple days ago, but there was something special about her.

The day before, there had been a special moment between us, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it had been a fluke.

Or the start of something more.