Christmas Spirits
Author
Daphne Anders
Reads
589K
Chapters
29
Chapter 1:
Kate Harper: I rolled over to my side, stirring awake with feverish anticipation. Itās the first week of December.
Yes, you heard meā- the first week of December! Christmas was my favorite time of the year. Any other season or holiday was incomparable.
But Christmas, ah beautiful, joyous, merry Christmas was the happiest time of the year for me.
And this year would top all other Christmasās because I, Kate Harper, event planner extraordinaire would be planning and facilitating the biggest Christmas event of the season in my small town.
Carlton Fitzgerald, wealthy and eccentric hotel owner has asked me to plan the Christmas Eve gala event at his hotel this year.
For what hotel, you ask? Well, the only hotel that matters especially in the town of Holiday, Colorado.
The Holiday Hotel is twelve floors high, decorated in mistletoe, pine trees, poinsettias, and every possible Christmas decor and flower you could think of.
The Holiday Hotel reeks of sugar cookies, ham, and every other splendor that you remember from your childhood Christmas.
Personally, Iām not sure how he does it. Heās incredible. Dare I say, he actually loves Christmas more than I do? Well, I could, but I wouldnāt.
No one loves Christmas more than I do. I practically wait for it all year long.
Anyways, the point is Carlton Fitzgerald asked me to plan the gala, which Iāve been planning for years now in hopes one day that heād finally ask me.
The plan was all set, perfectly documented and devised in the event planner that Iāve had for years.
Iāve honed every little detail, every decoration from the appetizers to the drinks to the main course to the desserts to table placements to the musicians and even to my choice of Santa.
I needed a distinguished man to play Santa, not too fat, or too old, or too grumpy, or even too joyful.
No one else would do besides our very own local broadway show actor, Robert.
Well, he isnāt really a broadway show actor, heās starred in some minor plays in Colorado and in our town, which means basically the same thing to me.
Heās a big deal and the perfect man for the role.
I canāt think of anyone else to play Santa at the Holiday Hotelās Christmas Eve Gala, Iām surprised that Carlton Fitzgerald didnāt think of him for the role sooner.
And thatās why this yearās Christmas Eve Gala at the Holiday Hotel would be the best one yet.
I shrieked internally as I rolled over in bed, removing my festive Christmas eye mask adorned with a sparkly santa and tossing it onto my red festive sheets.
I glanced out the window and noticed the landscape covered with snow. Ah, beautiful, so festive too!
I couldnāt have asked for a better first week of December, I sighed out happily. I was too excited, too happy, too everything.
I always loved Christmas time. There was something magical about itāabout how joy touched everything during the season.
It spread into the air, into towns, into peopleās lives, and into their hearts. Holiday cheer was that abundant.
I grew up knowing that Christmas was a time filled with cheer, especially for my family. My family loved Christmas.
They always made it a special time for usā with family gatherings, meals, presents, the decorations, even the baking and Christmas caroling.
I knew that my uncle played Santa since I was 10 years old but I didnāt care, I just enjoyed that he wanted to play it for our sake.
There was something about the commitment even if it was pretend, he committed to play Santa for our sakes and in order to make us happy.
My parents are still big Christmas aficionados.
They love decorating the tree, putting the star on top of it, baking Christmas cookies, making their signature Christmas ham and even organizing Christmas dinner and Christmas toy donations.
I pressed myself up and into a seated position, stretching my arms behind my back and yawning to wake up.
Today will be glorious, I told myself cheerily. I admired the Christmas countdown calendar on my nightstand: 24 days until Christmas Day.
And 23 days until Christmas Eve. I reached for my phone and flipped through my calendar, looking for the to do list for today.
On the top of the list was a call with Robert to go over the script, then a visit to the bakery for the cake, cookies and cupcake order, then the pickup of holiday decorations from the best holiday store in town, well the only holiday store called: Santaās Choice.
A busy day was set ahead and I could not wait to get started! Especially since it was Christmas related.
I pressed my feet into the ground and skipped joyfully towards the bathroom. I admired myself in the mirror for a moment.
I looked a bit unkempt, my blonde curls were frizzy, leftover mascara clung around the bottom of my eyes, my skin was a bit dull, and I was in desperate need of a facial, but my insides tingled with anticipation of the day ahead.
I rid myself of my festive Christmas pajamas, then heaved my body into the shower, but not before turning on some cheerful Christmas music.
Have a Holly Jolly Christmas sounded loudly over the speaker, instantly brightening my mood and my skin.
The warm water cascaded over me, cleansing me, and awakening me for the day ahead.
Soon, Iād be freezing and bundled tightly inside a warm jacket but it wouldnāt matter, inside Iād be warmed with the Christmas spirit, along with beautifully decorated holiday decor around me.
I dressed myself in a festive ensemble, a peplum green dress, applied my favorite cherry red lipstick, brushed out my blonde curls so they were more of waves than curls, and zipped myself into a white down parka and a pair of black heeled boots that covered my calves.
Now, Iām in desperate need of some caffeine, specifically a peppermint mocha from my favorite local coffee shop.
So, I got into my car, a car thatās only fit for a girl with my type of personality and obsession with Christmas: A white Jeep Cherokee.
Hey, I like snow, and snow did not like me when I had a Prius, so a Jeep Cherokee was a necessity in Holiday, Colorado.
I switched the gear into reverse and backed out of my perfectly snow lined driveway, onward towards the cute local coffee shop: Holiday Beans.
Even the name was perfect. Everyone in my neighborhood, specifically in the area of Holiday Lane, had decorated for Christmas already.
I beautifully decorated my outdoor trees with gold, white, and silver colored ornaments, set up a life sized frosty blow up, lined my roof and bushes with warm colored lights and lined my walkway with cute little light up candy canes.
On the right side of me lived a newly married husband and wife, the Normans.
They stuck with the classic Christmas scheme of greens and reds in lights, and decorations. How cute.
Across from me lived the Liās, who decorated their home in beautiful colors of golds and reds, and lights that dazzled and sparkled.
Next to the Liās were the Perryās, who decorated their home with bright lights and classic lit up reindeers.
Next to the Perryās lived the Acostaās who decorated their home with large blow up reindeers, Santas, and presents.
Next to the Acostaās lived the Carsonās who decorated their home with my favorite decoration of all: old Christmas decor.
It reminded me of my childhood. They used old light up figures of elves, santa, and even put a sleigh and reindeer on a roof. Amazing!
I hummed cheerfully to Ariana Grandeās song, Santa Baby which played loudly on the radio.
But my eyes glided over the beautiful Christmas decorations of my neighbors and onto the empty yard next to the left of my house.
A few months ago, a new neighbor moved in, Nate Smith. He hadnāt said more than a word to me in the last few weeks.
It was not that I minded it, well if Iām being honest I did mind it.
In our neighborhood, we all talked to each other, baked cookies, sang carols, and had parties. We were neighborly.
We were the definition of friendly neighbors. But Nate was far from it. I didnāt know the first thing about him.
I didnāt know if he was my age (28 years old or older), if he had a girlfriend or wife or husband or boyfriend, or kids, or where he was from.
The only thing I knew about him was that he worked for a construction company. He kept to himself and I mean that in the most literal sense.
He didnāt like talking to neighbors, or going to parties. In fact, he barely left his house, at least that was when he was home.
And beyond that, he hated decorating. If I didnāt know any better than Iād think that he hated Christmas too. But that was a hefty accusation.
How could I accuse the man of hating Christmas just for refusing to decorate?
And who knows, we still had over 3 weeks until Christmas, maybe heād decorate soon.
But the bareness of his house was unsettling, only snow lined the roof and lined the yard.
Still, I sighed, deciding that I would give him the benefit of doubt before I labeled him as a Christmas hater.
That was the worst label I could give anyone in my opinion.
I pulled into an open parking spot of the downtown Holiday area, exited my car, tapped off the salt that stuck to the bottom of my boots and hurried towards my favorite coffee shop: Holiday Beans.
A few of the local customers were in front of me, Brenda, Harry, and Tasha. I smiled and waved at them as I waited in line for my coffee.
Finally, I made it to the register and happily ordered my peppermint mocha. I even got an extra shot in the coffee to up my energy level for the day.
My order was finished and placed into a festive seasonal paper cup, covered with a small snowman and reindeer on a red canvas.
I smiled at the cup, twisting it in my palm happily and joyfully smiling back at baristas, waving back at them and calling out thank you.
I brought my coffee cup to my lips, pushing the door open with an ungodly amount of strength before feeling the pressure of resistance as it opened.
I brought my coffee cup down from my lips and met the eyes of who the resistance belonged to. None other than my neighbor, Nate Smith.
Nate Smith was who I flung the glass door into. I stumbled back nervously, as my coffee slipped from my hands.
I expected the hot coffee to splatter on his tan colored jacket then splash across the snow covered sidewalk but it didnāt.
Nate Smith caught it in his grasp with a single rough hand, then handed the coffee to me with his usual pensive stare.
His light brown eyes stared back at me, and in the sun they almost looked hazel.
His brown hair was scruffy as a carhartt brown hat covered his head and ears, but his lips were void of amusement.
āHere,ā he handed me back the strangled coffee cup. It had taken a beating in his tough grasp. It was crinkled around its sides now.
I cleared my throat, accepting the coffee cup from him and offering him a smile. āThank you.ā
He stared at me for a moment before, studying the uncertainty in my face and in my voice, but nodded anyway, still refusing to smile, then yanked the door open and walked into the coffee shop.
āBye!ā I called out, out of habit but cursed myself as I did. Bye? Um, what was that? What a strange experience.
I never imagined grumpy Nate Smith would save my coffee from spilling after I slammed the door into him then walk away like nothing ever happened, as if we werenāt neighbors.
I fixed my gaze upon him through the closed doorway. He had stuffed his hands into his pockets, as his gaze was fixated on the menu before him.
He probably took his coffee black, that grinch, and he probably hated the Christmas themed cups.
But he was nice to look at, even beneath his rough, calloused exterior and grumpiness.
The brown carhartt coat he wore, perfectly fit to his muscles and broad shoulders, and I digged the morning stubble that clung to his face, his hair was dark brown, the perfect color resembling warm rich hot chocolate, and he was tall, much taller than most guys in town, at least 6 foot 3 in height.
His hands were calloused too, even his skin was tinted with dirt from his profession: construction.
He was a man, a strong, rough around the edges man: who probably happened to hate Christmas and all things that brought normal people joy.
But whatever, it wasnāt like I would truly be interested in a man who hated happiness or Christmas or was always grumpy. Even if he was good looking.
I relaxed my shoulders and heaved out a heavy sigh before turning on my heels and starting back towards my car, clutching the half dented coffee cup in my hands and fixating my thoughts on the busy day ahead.
