Page 19 of Under The Meh-stletoe

Eva was the one to respond, her hands moving fast over her industrial espresso machine. "It's because we see all the same faces every day, and they're all smiling at us and fully expecting a smile in return. We don't get to stroll among anonymous people power-walking to their destinations. Everyone wants to stop and ask how you're doing, and don't you love the season?"

I nodded in agreement. I stopped often to get good quality coffee and snacks from Eva, and she was one of the few people I thought of as a friend in town. We had similar personalities; she also was no-nonsense and focused intently on bringing life back to Laguna Island. On a couple of occasions, I'd even kept her company while she closed up shop, and we'd dreamed about how to fix the town to make it the paradise we knew it could be.

"Eva!" Ale said. "I didn't know you also have something against the holidays."

My friend pushed our cups to us and shrugged. "I'm indifferent to them, but I do get annoyed at how over the top it gets."

"Can I count on no Christmas music from your speakers, then?" Ale tasted her drink. "Wow. This is amazing."

"I play Christmas songs the last few days before the twenty-fifth. That's it."

I smiled. "We should form a club. We won't survive it next year, otherwise. At least Renata will be doing well next year and I won't have to be on the committee."

"Are you going to preside over the committee next year, too, Daniel?" Eva asked.

"Never again. I'll figure out a way to get out of it moving forward. There will be other ways to promote community bonding."

"Like buying all this coffee for people." Eva raised an eyebrow. "Making them happy and helping the local business, right?"

"Oh, no. This is selfish." My mouth tilted with humor. I grabbed one of the coffee dispensers and the bag with food; Ale would take the other dispenser and our drinks. "If they're drinking warm drinks and stuffing their mouths with cookies, they can't sing carols."

"No, I think Eva and I know your secret," Ale said. "You're less cranky than people think. You're actually sharing in the cheer with this."

"Please. That doesn't sound like me, does it?"

"It does," Eva said with a restrained smile.

I frowned. "In that case, you two should know you're crankier than people know. I'm not afraid to use that information to my advantage."

"I'm not that bad," both Ale and Eva said.

"Me neither, you hear me? Better if we all keep these revelations private."

December 12

Ale

Danielhadn'tstoppedfrowningfor the past two hours. It was a wonder the muscles of his brow weren't shaking with the effort. Then again, if he kept this gesture on his face a lot, then maybe they were strong enough to sustain the frown for hours. Like he had.

"Thank you for having us in your home," I told María. We'd spent the past half hour visiting, trying to convince her dad to be our Santa. The three of us stood by her door saying goodbye. "Do you think he'll do it?"

"I don't know." She stole a glance at Daniel and brought it right back to me. "He didn't seem very happy at the idea. I've been trying to get him excited about it, but... cranky people can be a tough nut to crack."

She cast her eyes at Daniel, who squinted back.

"Don't worry. I can work with cranky people." I winked at María and Daniel snorted next to me. "Would you talk to your dad some more? He's our best option."

María nodded. "I'll keep trying. Beneath the grouchy exterior, he actually likes children."

"Well, thank you. I'll text you, okay?"

We said goodbye; Daniel practically ran down the porch steps. I thought he'd sprint to the pickup truck, but he offered me his hand to come down the stairs, like I didn't have a rail. I took it and ignored the comforting warmth of it; I let go as soon as I stepped on solid, wet ground again.

We got back in the truck, Daniel at the wheel as he'd been all afternoon.

"You're done, aren't you?" I asked.

"So done." He drove us down the rough gravel path leading away from the farm. "We've been to four houses in five hours. It's getting dark, it smells like rain's coming, and we still have no Santa."