(advent) Friday, December 13

Molly heard them as soon as the front door opened. Both Zoey and Lily had spent the prior afternoon outside building snowmen and snow dragons with Ember and Old Man Winter, and by the coughing, it sounded like they’d both brought home colds. She sighed and shook her head.

 

“Don’t come in the kitchen,” she called out as they approached the door. “I’ll come out to you.” She dusted the flour off her hands and hurried out.

 

Both of them looked tired and, quite frankly, miserable. Their noses were red and raw, and their cheeks were flushed with more than the chilly temperatures.

 

“Poor girls,” Molly said, shaking her head. “You guys really overdid it yesterday, didn’t you? I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m not,” Zoey told her, and coughed again. “It was totally worth it.”

 

“Yeah,” Lily agreed. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

 

“Well, you can’t come in the kitchen sounding like that,” Molly told them. “The health department would totally shut me down.” She looked over at the wood stove. “Why don’t you guys join Schrodinger and Jack today? Julie delivered the new bed, so there’s plenty of room.”

 

“What about the Advent Calendar?” Zoey asked her.

 

“The boys can do it today,” Molly said. “You guys settle in, and I’ll bring you out some hot cider and some food. You can read until your folks come by later.” She glanced out the window. The snow storm had blown itself out by the time they’d come back from Old Man Winter’s, and the day had dawned clear and cold, with an ice-edged wind that blew steadily.

 

“But we don’t want to miss an adventure!” Lily protested.

 

Jack nudged her gently. You don’t want to get sicker, do you? He cocked his head at her. If you don’t get better soon, who knows how many adventures you could miss? Besides, I’ll bet we can find an adventure or two here.

 

“How?” she demanded.

 

Jack gave her a grin, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. This is a BOOKSTORE, he reminded her. There are more adventures than you could ever want here. Remember?

 

“Very true,” Molly said. “Jack, why don’t you and Schrodinger come and do the calendar, and the girls can make themselves comfy on the beds.”

 

No. Jack looked at Schrodinger. You do the calendar. I’ll snuggle with them to keep them warm.

 

“You are one of my best friends ever,” Lily said, throwing her arms around her dog. “What would I do without you?”

 

He licked her face. You’d be cold.

 

Schrodinger followed Molly into the kitchen as Jack led Zoey and Lily over to the nest he and Schrodinger had made. It’s a good thing that new bed came in, he said, as he went over to the calendar. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have enough room.

 

“That’s why I got it,” Molly agreed, pouring hot cider into two mugs. “Do you and Jack want tea?”

 

I do, he said. Let me go ask Jack.

 

While she waited for him to come back, she assembled the rest of the tray. She’d made a new batch of Portuguese sweet bread, and she toasted thick slices of it, then smeared them with butter and some of Lisa’s plum jam. Then she added some apple slices and a couple of snickerdoodles.

 

Yes, he would like some tea too, Schrodinger said, coming back in and scrutinizing the advent calendar again. You know, this would be easier if they didn’t hide the numbers.

 

“I will pass that comment along,” Molly said, grinning. “I thought that was supposed to be part of the fun, though.”

 

Maybe. Schrodinger finally located the 13 and pressed his nose to it.

 

“Where was it today?”

 

On the sleigh itself, he said, backing up as the snowflake came out. It shimmered, then floated out to the tea room. Molly finished arranging the cups on the tray, then followed Schrodinger out.

 

The snowflake drifted lazily over to the wood stove, and hovered over the two dog beds. Molly had brought in a quilt from home and spread it over the two, so they made one long cushion. Lily and Zoey had claimed the middle of the bed, and Jack had taken the outside, leaving Schrodinger his preferred spot right next to the stove. Now, they all looked up, as did Mr. Dorr and Mrs. Dorr, who were at their favorite table having a late afternoon snack.

 

“Oh, how lovely!” Mrs. Dorr said, as the snowflake began to spin slowly. Then it broke apart and fell onto the girls in long strands that stretched out and draped around them, becoming warm, soft blankets that snuggled them in.

 

“It looks like your calendar understands quiet days too,” Molly said, putting the tray down near them. Aunt Margie had given Schrodinger a small table for Christmas last year to use for his own cups of tea: it was the perfect height for them now. “Would you like me to get you some books?”

 

They made their requests, and Molly went upstairs to get them. Then, once they were all set, she went back into the kitchen and started to work on the orders she’d taken at the bake sale.

 

At one point, she stuck her head out to see if they needed anything, to be rewarded with the sight of all four of them asleep, curled up in a great pile of blankets, children, CrossCat and dog, that looked as if they had not a care in the world. Molly smiled and let them sleep.

 

Corinne and Donna showed up around five, but rather than wake the girls up immediately, they accepted Molly’s offer of a cup of tea and some scones before heading home.

 

“Peter’s working late tonight, so we really didn’t have anything planned,” Donna admitted, taking the mug from Molly with a nod of thanks. “The weekly order comes in on Fridays, and he’s always home late. We usually do take-out, to be honest.”

 

“Nathan’s making pizza, but it will keep,” Corinne said. “Besides, I’m sure he’s enjoying the quiet.”

 

“Knowing him, he’s probably on the computer, playing games,” Molly said, filling all three mugs with hot water.

 

“More than likely,” Corinne agreed. “He’s very jealous, you know.”

 

“Of what?” Molly asked, putting a plate of her caramel apple scones in front of them.

 

“Of Lily getting to go and meet the dragon yesterday,” Corinne said. “He’s always wanted to meet a dragon.”

 

Donna shook her head, amazed. “You say it so casually,” she said. “Do you know how odd this conversation sounds? I mean, who else talks about meeting dragons? And really means it?”

 

“Folks in CrossRoads towns,” Corinne told her, and grinned a bit to soften the words. “But yes, I take your point. We are very different here.”

 

“It’s another world,” Donna told her. “To be presented with magic like this, after being told all my life that it didn’t exist – well, it’s a bit of a shock.”

 

“I can only imagine,” Molly said. “I mean, I see it a bit, with Zoey, but having grown up here…” She shrugged. “Maybe we’re just too used to it.”

 

“Did she really meet a dragon yesterday?” Donna asked. “And the spirit of winter?”

 

“She really did.” Molly told them about the entire day, ending with “I thought we were going to have to drug their food to get them back in the sleigh. None of them wanted to leave, and Old Man Winter didn’t help matters by telling Lily and Zoey that there was a nursery that had canopied beds in it. Don’t be surprised if they ask to have a sleepover there at some point.”

 

“He’s welcome to have her for a week if he wants,” Corinne said. “I wouldn’t mind.”

 

“Only in Carter’s Cove would the preferred babysitter be the spirit of Winter,” Molly told her. “And would he be willing.”

 

“Hey, I’ll use any babysitter I can find,” her sister-in-law replied, and they all laughed.

 

Donna shook her head. “This is amazing,” she said, picking up her tea mug and then putting it down again without drinking anything. “I’m just worried…” Her voice trailed off.

 

“About?” Corinne prompted her, when she didn’t finish the sentence.

 

“Christmas.” Donna admitted finally. “We’ve never done anything with Santa in our house – I swore I’d never lie to my child about his existence, not after the crushing disappointment I’d felt when I found out he wasn’t real. But now, she’s seen so much magic…”

 

Corinne and Molly exchanged glances. “You do know he is real, right?” Molly said. “Because he is.”

 

“No, he’s not,” Donna said. “It’s all a lie.”

 

Corinne and Molly exchanged another glance. “Maybe that’s what happens elsewhere, but here, he’s definitely real,” Corinne told her. “Trust me. If nothing else, he is DEFINITELY real in the Cove.”

 

“He’s real everywhere, but he’s HERE in the Cove more, maybe,” Molly said. She picked up her mug and held it in her hand. “Maybe because there’s more magic here.” She stared at the mug, and the water inside started to boil. “Or because there’s more belief.”

 

Donna watched the water boil, fascinated. “How do you do that?”

 

“Believe?” Molly asked her, putting the mug down.

 

“Yes.”

 

Molly turned back to her workspace and pulled a mixing bowl down. She started to mix various things in the bowl, operating more on instinct than on anything else. “Belief is an odd thing,” she said, snapping her fingers. The bowl of eggs on the counter slid over to her. “It’s a lot like a cookie recipe – it’s not one thing, it’s a mixture of things.” Another snap, and a bag of peppermint candies floated out of the pantry towards her. Molly didn’t usually flaunt her gifts like this, but it seemed the right thing to do. “It’s a bit of this, a bit of that, and you come out with something that makes everyone happy. Especially you.” She frowned at the candies, and they obediently crumbled into pieces. “But you have to work at it – it’s not something that just comes. It can scorch and burn if you don’t pay attention to it, and not everyone’s belief is the same. But that’s okay.” She picked up a cookie sheet from the rack nearby and spread some parchment paper down, then started to drop cookies onto it. “Because everyone’s tastes are different, and no one wants to eat the same cookies all the time.” She slid the cookie sheet into the oven and turned back to look at Donna. “Did that make sense?”

 

“Oddly enough, I think it did,” Donna said, cradling her tea cup in her hands again. “And if I understand right, even if the belief is broken once, it can be fixed.”

 

“We can always learn from broken recipes,” Molly said. “And what you found when the recipe broke can help you avoid that mistake in the future.”

 

Donna looked out into the tea room again, at the pile of children and animals sleeping beside the wood stove. “Maybe it’s time to start looking at that old recipe, and see where it went wrong.”

 

“Sunday afternoon, Aunt Margie has Santa coming in to talk to all the kids,” Corinne said neutrally. “You should bring Zoey.”

 

Donna hesitated. “I don’t know…”

 

“It’s really him, you know,” Molly said. “You could start believing again.”

 

Donna looked back at them. “

Originally published at The words of Valerie Griswold-Ford. You can comment here or there.