Page 2 of Under The Meh-stletoe

"Daniel—" Janet cleared her throat— "Daniel, this is Alejandra. She just came back to Laguna Island a few days ago."

Barely contained exasperation seemed to exude from his every pore.

He took what seemed like a long-suffering, calming breath and left his papers on the table. "And I was voluntold to be the Town’s point of contact and local government representative for the Christmas season celebrations. Let’s do that, okay? We all know each other, or we will get to over the next six weeks. This town does way too much for the holidays and we just need to survive it. You'll be the president, Alejandra."

I laughed. "No, I won't be."

He cast his eyes at me again. "I was told that your sister was always the president, wasn’t she?"

Yes, but that was because even though we had the exact same genetic material, somehow, she loved Christmas with a passion while I couldn’t stand it.

"I’m only here for my sister," I said. "I don’t want to be the president. Can't we cast a vote or something?"

"Come on," Janet said. The other volunteers around the table stared at their laps and seemed inclined to let the chips fall where they may. Even Pri, who I'd met because she was Renata's best friend, pretended the plastic surface between us was fascinating. "You can get Ren to provide moral support and her extensive knowledge. With her by your side, you’ll do a much better job than any of us could."

"What about you?" I asked her. "You love Christmas, don't you?"

"I do! Very much. What's not to love? Yummy foods, there's cozy music everywhere, everyone smiles—" she stole a glance at Daniel— "or almost everyone. I get to make cookies and do crafts, and to have an excuse to leave my kids with their grandma for longer. It’s my break, you know? Same with all of them." She pointed at the other three people around us. "And we have a blast with it."

"Then one of you should be the president! You love this stuff."

"Don't you love Christmas?"

"I don't love it, no. I'm… neutral." I bit my tongue not to explain that it was gross optimism, to say I was neutral about it. "So I'm not the right person for it."

"We can't do it," Janet started at the same time as Daniel spoke up, and she quieted to let him take over.

"You'll be perfect then." He held my gaze. "This bunch can't do it. They blow the budget every time, all in the spirit of the holidays, according to the briefing I received. Renata was the first to corral them into shape. The town was about to cancel the celebrations altogether due to lack of funding."

"She organized the fundraising and kept us to budget." Janet stared at the other three people at the table, asking for silent support— she got it in the form of energetic nods.

I did my best to ignore the fact that the accident had happened on my sister's drive back from a fundraising event.

"I see." It was my turn to frown. "So my disinterest actually protects the celebrations. Ren didn't tell me I'd have to preside the committee when she begged me to come in her name."

"Welcome to the party." Daniel's words were laced with the same lack of joy I felt. "We're co-chairs now. We’ll exchange phone numbers before we leave so we can reach out to each other in case of a seasonal emergency."

"Seasonal emergency?" I scoffed, then had to suppress a smile when I imagined an ambulance playing Christmas music instead of a siren. "What kind of things does the town do these days for Christmas?!"

"Decorations for Main Street," Janet listed with a finger, followed by the rest as she went on. "My favorite, the cookie decoration competition; Letters to Santa, which is our gift donation drive; the Christmas car parade; and of course, the big community Christmas party right here, for which we have to decorate as well. It’s not too much, and we have so much fun!"

I held back a groan. This sounded dreadful to me. "Great. And as president, I will have to do what, exactly?"

"Be my point of contact." Daniel didn’t sound happy about it. "Organize all the volunteers, about fifty total, and keep them to task. I'll do that too. Keep the morale high and such. Make sure we have all the supplies we need. And of course, put out any fires."

"Wonderful." Sarcasm dripped from the word. "Keeping the morale high for Christmas soundsexactlylike my jam. Just wonderful."

"We will all help." Janet rubbed my shoulder in an encouraging manner that did nothing to make me feel better. "You won’t do it alone. It’s the season of joy, isn’t it? A cookie will make it better."

She pushed the box in my direction. I picked the smallest cookie I could see and forced a minimal bite into my mouth.

I hoped she wouldn’t see the resulting grimace.

The air had that crisp combined smell of winter and beach that I remembered so well, as I walked back to Renata's and my house. My feet still knew the streets of my youth, allowing me to admire the little changes that had appeared over the years. Maybe a house had changed color, or flowers had become bushier and fuller. Beyond that, things seemed to be the same, and it warmed me up from within. It helped push away the feeling left behind after the meeting, and I smiled.

It had taken only eight weeks, but my life changed twice in as many months. First, my dickhead of an ex changed his mind a hundred times about our future, and full-on panicked when I said my lease was coming up and I wanted to buy a house. I broke up with him, licked my wounds, and started looking for options.

Three weeks later and at two in the morning, my dad called me from Perú to tell me Ren was in the hospital. I moved heaven and earth to make it to her and, as soon as she was stable enough for us to know she would make it, I’d started the process of returning to Laguna Island. Now we lived together, and we focused on putting our lives back in order— me metaphorically, and her almost literally. At least, thanks to her insurance and all my savings during my accountant career, we were in no rush.