How My Neighbor Stole Christmas

It was a sad day in Kringle, a sad day indeed.

How could she take those lights down at such lightning speed?

Cole’s heart was shattered, shattered and crushed,

and now where Storee is concerned he has lost all trust.

“I should have stayed in here,” I say to Colleen, one of the reindeer, as I brush her wiry coat. “Then none of this would have happened.”

When I walked back into my house after confronting Storee, I immediately regretted it because I could smell her, I could hear her, I could see her.

I saw her in front of the fireplace with me.

I saw her on the couch, riding me.

In the kitchen, on top of the counter.

On the stairs…

I needed fucking out, and luckily, Max was there to help. He guided me out of the house and into his truck. That’s when we saw her pop out of Cindy’s house, trying to wave us down. Max asked if I wanted to hear what she had to say, and I shook my head.

There was nothing she could say.

I told him to just take me to the barn.

When we arrived, he wasn’t going to leave me at first, but I practically pushed him away, begging for my own space, and thankfully he gave it.

He’s given me so much space that now the sun is starting to set and I have no intention of leaving this barn.

None.

I will pull up a cot, grab a blanket, and this is where I’ll live.

Where I’ll stay.

Because I can’t go back to my house.

I just fucking can’t.

It’s been tainted.

Tarnished.

A place where I don’t want to be because it’s too painful for so many reasons. It had almost become…home again. A place with joy and hope. And now that’s gone. Again.

“I’m such an idiot.” I sigh as I sit on a stool next to Colleen. She nudges me with her nose, but I don’t budge as I stare at the ground.

Storee never showed romantic interest in me before, back when we were teens, so why would she be into me out of the blue? Max was right all along—she was in it to distract me, to use me, and when she couldn’t stop me from excelling in the competition, she tried another way.

And it worked.

It worked so well because I want nothing to do with the competition now. I’m out.

Done.

Over it.

Wasn’t worth my time in the first place.

None of this was.

Who the fuck did I think I was, coming into this Christmas season thinking I could rekindle the same sense of joy I used to feel back when my parents were alive?

It was stupid and naïve and a mistake I won’t make again.

Nope.

My house will remain dark now because I’m retreating to what I know best.

Becoming that recluse, ignoring the holiday season, and enveloping myself in rage-filled anger.

Storee

“Can we talk?” Taran asks as I move through Aunt Cindy’s house, looking for the keys to the car.

After I banged on her door, Martha ushered me into her house out of the cold, and I told her what happened. The entire thing. From the fake relationship to the not-so-fake relationship, to what Taran did…to how I feel about Cole.

There was a lot of gasping, a lot of heart clutching, a touch of anger, and then at the end of it all she pulled me into a hug, letting me cry on her shoulder for a solid five minutes.

After that, she told me to pull myself together because we had some lights to hang.

I started with putting some real clothes on, dressing for warmth, and then going outside to Cole’s porch where I started untangling his lights in earnest.

And then slowly, Martha showed up, then Mae, then Frank and Thachary…some of the Dankworth children. Then Jimmy and Ursula…and even Beatrice.

Together, we worked hard, and we hung up his lights. We twisted them around his porch and strung them around his yard on top of the snow. Jimmy went up on the roof and did a zig-zag pattern. We hung them all.

And to my surprise, Taran brought out hot chocolate for everyone.

It was a group effort, and now that we’re done, there’s just one person I have to see.

“Please, Storee, we need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” I reply as I find the keys and then move toward the front of the house.

“I want to say I’m sorry.”

“Too late,” I say as I move to the front door, only to be stopped by Aunt Cindy who is now standing tall without her walker or her cane.

“Girls…we need to have a conversation.”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Cindy, but I don’t have time.”

“You will make time for this.” She points toward the living room, and I know there’s no way I can say no, so I let Aunt Cindy lead the way. And lead the way she does, not a hitch in her step, not an ounce of pain in her posture.

“Why are you walking so well?” I ask her.

“That’s what I need to talk to you about. Please…sit down.”

Confused, I take a seat on the couch, and Taran does as well. Aunt Cindy remains standing as she clasps her hands together in front of her.

“I’m afraid I haven’t been as truthful as I should have been. You see, back in the summer of this year, I had a conversation with your mother. She was concerned.”

“Concerned about what?” I ask.

“About you two. She sensed that you were drifting further apart with each passing year and worried that if we didn’t intervene, you might lose touch just like I did with my sister. Like your mom and her own mother. So we devised a plan.”

“Please don’t tell me your hip was never broken,” Taran says.

“Unfortunately, that is the case.”

Taran bows her head and presses her fingers to her brow as I try to comprehend what she’s saying.

“We thought that if I faked an injury and you two were forced to come take care of me, we could possibly mend the fissures in your relationship.”

“There were no fissures,” Taran says. “We were fine.”

I glance over at her. “Were we, though?”

“What are you talking about?” Taran replies, looking confused. “Of course we were fine.”

“Then how come I really know nothing about Guy? Why don’t I know about what’s going on in your life? Why didn’t I feel comfortable telling you how lonely I was in California and how I didn’t know what to do with that feeling?”

“You were feeling alone?” she asks.

“Yes. And sure, at first I didn’t want to be here, but then…then I realized how much this town means to me. How much I need this town. How much I need you, Taran. How much I need…Cole.”

“I…I had no clue,” Taran says, completely bewildered.

“Because you don’t talk to me. You’re so fixated on your job, which I’m proud of you for, it takes a lot to do what you do, but you zero in on it and nothing else. I’ll text you, and it will take you three days to text back. I understand you’re busy and your job is demanding, but not even a text back at night?”

“I…I didn’t know that bothered you.”

“Of course it bothers me,” I say. “You’re my sister. Up until your abhorrent decision to take down Cole’s decorations to protect me, I honestly wasn’t sure if you even cared about me.”

“Of course I care about you,” Taran says, turning toward me now. “I love you, Storee, and…I’m sorry if I haven’t been as invested in your life as I should be. There’s no excuse for it, and all I can really say is that I need to do better.”

I feel my lip quiver as more tears spring to my eyes.

She takes my hand in hers and scoots closer. Softly, she repeats, “I’m sorry. I love you, and I…I think I just got so caught up in the competition that I missed the point of all of this, working together as a family.”

I nod. “And I’m sorry for not telling you the truth about Cole. I thought that if you knew, you’d get mad at me and think that I wasn’t invested in the competition. I was. I wanted to win it for Aunt Cindy…” My voice trails off as I slowly face Aunt Cindy. “Hold on, did you even care if I won the Town Kringle?”

She winces. “Well, not so much.”

“What?” Taran says. “But you made it seem like you were desperate to win it this year.”

“And my acting coach who has been helping me through our summer community theater productions would be very proud of me.”

“I can’t believe this,” Taran says. “What about the doctor’s appointment I took you to?”

“That was a friend of mine, actually,” Aunt Cindy says. “I noticed that Storee was starting to care for Cole, so I thought that if I took you away for a night and gave them some time, we could let their little relationship grow.”

“Wait, you knew about me and Cole?”

“Storee, everyone did.”

“I didn’t,” Taran says, pointing at her chest.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“And I think we’ve established why,” Aunt Cindy replies, her lips thinning into a disapproving line.

“Right.” Taran exhales and leans back on the couch, her hands crossed over her stomach. “So let me get this straight, you never hurt your hip, you never cared about the Christmas Kringle competition, and I was so worked up about winning the damn thing for this family that I stupidly took the lights off an innocent man’s house?”

“I believe that’s correct,” Aunt Cindy says.

Taran rubs both of her eyes with her palms. “I can’t believe you lied to us. Hell, I can’t believe I didn’t realize.”

“More like fibbed to bring you together, to bring us all together.” She grows serious. “I also felt like I was losing you two. You hadn’t visited in quite some time and, well, I’m an old lady now, and sure, I’m active in the community and have a lot going on, but that doesn’t compare to the memories of when you girls would visit me during this time. I missed you. I missed this, and I felt like getting you to come again called for drastic measures. So I went for it, and I’m sorry I deceived you. I’m also not sorry.” She takes a deep breath. “I got to spend the holiday season with my girls. I got to relive some of my best memories and witness how you both have grown into your personalities. I got to watch you work together, and Storee, from a distance I got to see you reconnect with a boy I always thought belonged with you.”

I feel my cheeks warm.

“So I guess…I’m really not sorry, and if I could, I would do it again.”

“You would force me to wash your crevices again?” Taran asks, breaking the tension.

“I would.” Aunt Cindy sits between us and takes our hands. “I love you two very much, and I want you to remember, you might have your own paths in life, but that should never derail you from the path we all take as a family. If you get lost along the way, we are always here to help you find your way back.”

Taran glances at me. “She’s right. I’m sorry, Storee.”

“I’m sorry too,” I say.

With a shaky smile, she asks, “Do you really like him?”

I nod. “I do. I like him so much, and I know he feels the same way.”

I more than like him. I love him.

I think I’ve loved him for a long time and have never noticed it.

But yes, this consuming, heart-wrenching, exhilarating feeling that’s pulsing through me? It’s love.

I love him.

“Well, if that’s the case, we need to fix things,” Taran says.

“I’m glad you think that because I have an idea,” I say, “but I’ll need some help.”

“Tell us what you need,” Taran says. “We’re here for you.”

Cole

“Cole,” Max calls out. “You still back here?”

“Yeah,” I say as I lie flat on the concrete floor, staring up at the barn ceiling. I hear Max approach but don’t bother moving.

“Uh, what are you doing?” he asks.

“Breathing,” I answer.

“Well, that’s a good thing.” He comes into view and pulls on the back of his neck. “I hate to do this to you, but my mom said she’s not going to allow you to stay in the barn, especially on Christmas Eve.”

“Does she know that I have no other choice?”

“You do. You’ll stay the night at my parents’ place, like every year. Come on, man.” He holds out his hand to help me up, but I don’t take it. Instead, I keep looking up at the ceiling as I feel a sting of tears in my eyes.

“I don’t want to celebrate Christmas, Atlas. I can’t…I can’t do it.”

“I know,” he says solemnly. “And I get it. I told my mom, and she actually set up the guest room for you, so you don’t have to worry about the family bothering you.”

“I don’t want to bring down your Christmas mood.”

“You won’t, I promise. Come on. If you don’t come with me, then my dad will have to come get you, and I know he won’t take kindly to that when he’s supposed to be watching A Christmas Story right now.”

He’s right. Mr. Maxheimer never wants to miss his Christmas Eve viewing of A Christmas Story. So I take Max’s hand in mine, and he helps me to my feet. I brush off my ass, and let Max lead me outside to his truck.

“We’re driving to your parents’ house?” I ask, confused since their house is on the farm.

“I had my truck here because I had to pick some things up from town, so I figured we would just drive over. Plus, I didn’t know if I would have to strap you to the bed of my truck to transport you. My mom said to ‘bring him over by any means necessary.’”

A small smile tugs on my lips. “Would have loved to see you try.”

“Given your state, I would have won.”

“Probably right.”

We both get in and buckle up. The truck roars to life and we pull away from the barn.

“How’re you feeling?” Max asks.

“Like shit,” I reply.

“Yeah, I can see that. I’m really sorry, man.”

I look out the window at the dark forest of the farm. “Nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“Still, this can’t be easy.”

“You know, I think it will be best if we just sit in silence.”

“Sure,” he says.

I let out a sigh and continue to stare out the window. That heavy feeling in my chest that lifted weeks ago when Storee kissed me on the porch…has returned.

And that dreaded loneliness I feel every Christmas season has returned.

And that incessant pang in my heart that I have when I watch Max’s family gather around the tree on Christmas morning has already started to hurt.

But the Maxheimers have been so kind to me that even though I’m hurting, I wouldn’t disrespect them by not showing up.

I rest my head against the headrest, and when Max turns out of the farm instead of toward the private residence, I ask, “Where are you going?”

“Have to grab something from the Myrrh-cantile for my mom. You can stay in the truck.”

“Okay,” I say, continuing to stare out the window, my mind flashing through every little moment with Storee.

Fuck, it felt so real.

It felt like she cared about me.

Like she wanted me.

Needed me.

Loved me… How was I so wrong? How did she grow up to be so devious and insensitive? And somehow I was so gullible that I believed it.

I swallow another lump in my throat, hating that I’m getting so goddamn emotional, just as Max passes right by the Myrrh-cantile.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he drives down Krampus Court toward my house.

“Max.”

He starts to slow down and then rolls down the windows.

“What the hell, man?”

“Shhh,” he says as I hear something in the distance…

What he heard, it wasn’t sad. No, this noise was quite merry.

It sounded like people, lots of people, making him wary.

He stared down Whistler Lane, and Cole widened his eyes.

Then he blinked, for what he saw was a stunning surprise.

Up ahead on the right was his house lit in green,

the brightest house of all houses he ever had seen.

And one by one, along the cul-de-sac, they stood hand in hand,

the loving people of Kringle, next to a large marching band.

And they sang and they cheered and they stood in Christmas glory,

and right in the middle of it all, the girl of his heart, his very own Storee.

And he puzzled and thought, and he puzzled some more.

Then Cole thought of something he hadn’t thought of before.

“Storee,” he thought, “maybe I judged her all wrong.”

“Maybe she is the one with whom I truly belong.”

Max pulls his truck up to the curb and glances at me. “Go get her, man.”

“But…”

“But I was wrong. And this?” He gestures to my lit house, to the town caroling together…the marching band. “This was all her. This was her doing. She loves you, man, and I’ll be damned if I let you miss out on being with someone who cares this much and tries so hard to make things right. Now go get her.”

I look out through the windshield. Storee shivers in front of me, wearing her parka, winter hat, and mittens. Taran and Cindy are behind her while the rest of the town patiently waits.

“But the lights—”

“It was Taran.”

“Taran?”

Max nods. “Let her explain, hear her out. I promise she won’t hurt you.”

I look Max in the eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

If I’m going to trust anyone, it’s going to be my best friend.

With a curt nod, I open the truck door and shut it once I’m out. I tug on my shirt, adjusting it as I approach Storee. In the light from the houses and the streetlamps in the distance, I can see the red of her nose and the water in her eyes.

When I step up to her, she whispers, “Hi.”

“Hi,” I say, unsure of where this is going.

“Um, I’m not very good at this kind of grand gesture, but after editing so many Lovemark movies, I think I might have an idea.” She clears her throat and holds out her hand to mine. I take it, and she brings me over to her lawn. The town continues to sing while she speaks softly.

“Taran was the one who took the lights down. I had no idea she did it until she confessed. It was stupid, and she did it because she thought you were using me. That, uh…that you didn’t have real feelings for me, and I tried to convince her that wasn’t the case. But then after the argument this morning, I thought maybe, maybe it was the truth—”

“It’s not.”

“It’s not?” she asks, hope springing in her eyes.

I shake my head. “It’s not.”

The smallest of smiles passes over her lips. “Okay, um, well, that’s good to know because, well, I have this thing I have to tell you, and I’m nervous, but I need to tell you.” She looks me in the eyes. “I didn’t realize just how lonely I was, Cole, until I came here. Until I saw you. Until there was that level of connection, of comfort I always seemed to feel when our eyes met. When I was younger, I didn’t understand what that feeling was, but now that I’m older, now that I’d thought I’d lost it, I can tell you exactly what it is.” She brings my knuckles up to her lips and she kisses them softly. “I love you, Cole. These feelings I have for you are unmistakable. It’s as if whenever I see you, the air in my lungs is refreshed, my pulse is revived, and my soul feels at peace. I don’t want to lose that…ever.”

And then what happened in Kringle, they would say,

was that Cole’s black heart grew three sizes that day.

And the moment Cole’s heart didn’t pulse quite so tight,

he grabbed Storee by the waist and kissed her under the green light.

I look her in the eyes, those smiling, relieved, beautiful eyes, and I say, “I love you too, Storee. And you being here, it’s felt like coming home. You’ve reminded me about the good memories I buried so deep in my heart, and you’ve carried me through the dark.” I pinch her chin and lean in for another kiss. “Thank you.”

She smiles and wraps her arms around my neck. “Merry Christmas, Cole.”

“Merry Christmas, Storee.”

And they decided that night they didn’t care in the least

about the competition, but rather enjoyed a chicken parm feast.