Stuck in Christmas (Holiday Magic #1)

Chapter 15

Fifteen

I dragged my tired carcass toward the town square, all aglow with enough holiday cheer to choke a reindeer. The smell of the baked goods made me want to vomit. The Christmas carols and the far-off jingling of Bonnie’s door bells set my teeth on edge. And if I saw one more person in a red suit, I’d turn into a murder hobo in this freaking town.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Goosebumps marched across my arms. And I could almost feel someone breathing on me as they watched me. That was new. Generally, the only people who noticed me were the local peeps who were in on my holiday hell storyline.

I frowned in the midday sun, looking at the townsfolk's faces until I found the person I sought. The man in the red suit. “Kris.” I marched over to him, eyes narrowing when I drew closer. He raised his eyebrows at me expectantly and held his hand up to his ear. “This is ridiculous.”

“Sorry. What was that? What did you call me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Santa. Hello, Santa.”

“That’s more like it. ”

“What are you doing here?” I demanded a little more harshly than intended, but I was over this holiday hell by ten days.

“Ho, ho, ho.” Kris/Santa grabbed his belly as he laughed. “I come every year to the Christmas Carnival, bring my reindeer, grant the wishes of all the good little girls and boys. Have you figured out what you wish for this year?”

“Yes. I want to get out of Christmas, Mississippi,” I answered.

He frowned. “Now, why on earth would you want to do that?”

“I’m stuck in a dream that keeps resetting itself and never ends,” I wailed, throwing my hands into the air.

“That’s troubling,” Kris/Santa agreed.

“I know this is all in my head. Even you’re not real. But I know if I can get the combination right, I’ll wake up,” I said.

Kris/Santa tapped his white-gloved finger against his lip several times and nodded, seemingly taking in what I just said. “What combination?”

I sighed. “You know. The romantic holiday movie combination. There’s a hot guy with a truck, a big city woman who has to learn the meaning of Christmas, a baking montage, sledding, ice skating?—”

“And somehow, there’s a combination that helps you wake up?” Kris/Santa interrupted.

I tilted my head at his denseness. This guy played Santa every year and didn’t know. Oh, right . He was also a figment of my imagination. “Dude. In every holiday movie, the hot flannel guy falls in love with the big city woman.”

“I see.”

“But that’s already happened, so I don’t know why I’m stuck here.”

“Are you sure that’s already happened? How do you know?”

I shrugged. “There are signs. He always wants to be in my personal space. His kisses are fantastic, which is weird to tell a fake Santa, but since this is my dream, you’re just a figment of my imagination. And, when it comes down to it, you’re another version of me. So, I’m telling myself this, which is weird.”

“Fake?” Kris/Santa reeled back. “I’m not fake.”

“ Whatevs , Kris Kringle,” I said. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m missing something.”

“You are.”

“Do tell.”

“Seems you’ve missed a crucial part of the romantic holiday movie,” Kris/Santa pointed out.

“I’m all ears.”

“Who said the woman had to learn the meaning of Christmas?” He asked.

I blinked a few times at him. Was this guy - my subconscious - for real? Now, I was annoying myself.

“Maybe she needs to fall in love with the guy, you know, like Eli,” Kris/Santa said with a flourish. I was surprised glitter didn’t rain down on both of us.

“How do you know Eli?” I look around the square and see Eli spying on my conversation with the jolly old elf. “Ah. I think you missed your calling, Santa . You should have been an investigative journalist. Or one of those psychic detectives who’s good at reading body language and isn’t really psychic.”

Kris/Santa shook his head. “No investigation needed. I know all the wishes of the good girls and boys.”

I barked a laugh. “So you’re saying I wished for this?”

He patted me on the shoulder. “Restarting your day over and over? No. I took a little creative license with that one.”

“You did.” I frowned.

“Of course, I’m Santa. I grant the wishes that your heart makes, not your head.”

“I don’t believe this.” I blew out a breath and walked away from this nonsense. Why was I even arguing with a construct of my subconscious? This was ridiculous.

Kris/Santa caught up with me and said, “Really? You think it’s a dream. If this was a dream, is it so far-fetched to believe Santa would do anything to help you learn the lesson you desperately needed?”

He had me there. “And that is?”

Kris/Santa raced before me and stopped me by touching my shoulders. For a chubby older guy, he could move fast. “Love is not a halfway game. You can’t be half in, give half of yourself, and expect to find total lasting happiness.”

Why did this sound familiar? “I’ve heard this before.”

He blushed. “Yes. I thought you’d take the story from Joe to heart, but you didn’t listen to him either.”

“How do you know about that?” I stared at this man suspiciously. Could he be some sort of spy? A con man? Maybe there were cameras set up at Bonnie’s.

Kris/Santa looked over the rims of his glasses and smiled at me.

My stomach lurched. “No way.”

“Way.” The self-satisfied smirk on his face grew, and that aggravated me, along with all the rest of this holiday hell nonsense. If he was responsible for this, maybe I needed to stop worrying about the combination of things to help me wake up and figure out a way to take “Santa” out of the picture. Would that break the spell?

He wagged his finger at me. “Be careful, little one. I’d hate for you to end up on the Naughty List this year.”

“You don’t know what?—”

“You were just thinking if you offed me, you could break the spell you’re under and wake up.”

A cold sweat broke out over my skin. It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I have to give 100-percent. Then what?”

“Only you can answer that one. But you better figure it out fast because time is running out.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I cried.

“Have you looked at Bonnie’s pin today?”

A montage of Bonnie’s pins over the last few days came rushing back to me in a tidal wave of understanding. Her pin this morning had ten frogs. Ten lords a-leaping. “Noooooooo. Wait. Nooooooo.”

“Seems you have two tries to figure things out before you run out of time,” Kris/Santa clucked. “And maybe instead of trying to go it alone, perhaps you should ask for help.”

“Renee.”

I turned to see Eli rushing across the town square toward me. I waved, then turned back to ask Kris/Santa precisely who I should ask for help because no one ever remembers the reset, but he disappeared into thin air.

Exactly what my subconscious mind would do.

Or Santa.

No. No. No. That’s not possible.

Wasn’t it, though?

“Renee.” Eli smiled as he reached me. “How about a piece of peach pie and a hot chocolate?”

I sighed. “That sounds pretty good. And I need to see a woman about a Christmas pin.”