One Night with a Nutcracker (Reindeer Falls)

Which is ridiculous and, frankly, should be in violation of the rules of Christmas. No mode of transportation should stop working within five days of Christmas. It just isn’t right.

Ugh. I don’t know what to do. It’s not like I can walk all the way into town. Reindeer Falls is small, but I’m outside the town limits. It’d take me an hour to walk in the snow.

Shit. This is really not my day. Or week. I hate to bother anyone for a ride, but the last thing I need is Jake driving by and finding me in my broken-down truck. I don’t need to provide him with another example of how oblivious and stupid the weird hippie girl he had a holiday fling with was.

Resigned, I dig out my phone, swallowing my pride as I text Lexi and Maggie, asking if one of them can pick me up and let me crash at their place overnight.

Maggie’s message shows the blinking dots of death for several minutes before I get an actual response.

Maggie: Where are you?

Me: About a mile from the farm. Please come save me.

I add three sad emoji faces for extra effect.

Maggie: And you want me to pick you up and bring you to my place, not back to your Airstream?

Me: Yes.

Maggie: No.

Me: No? This must be a contempt of friendship violation.

Maggie: Clearly you’ve had a fight with Jake.

Me: Clearly.

Maggie: Go back to your Airstream and either make up or kick him out!

Me: NO. WAY.

Maggie: Go back, Sutton. Everything will work out if you just go back.

I resist the urge to throw my phone when I read Maggie’s message. She is completely off her Christmas rocker if she thinks that there’s any chance of a happily ever after for me with Jake Sheppard. January first I am staging an intervention to deprogram her from her Christmas romance nonsense. No more Hallmark movies. No more Christmas novels at book club. I’ll ban her from hot chocolate too, if that’s what it takes.

Still, I don’t have any choices left. If my friends won’t pick me up, I have to go back to the farm. And Maggie is right about one thing. The Airstream is mine, and I should’ve made Jake leave in the first place. He has no right to Ariel, and, while stomping away felt momentarily good, kicking him out will feel even better.

Though I do have one choice, don’t I? I could call Hudson and ask him for a ride. I could even take him up on that offer to go backpacking across Ireland. I could abandon the goats and my small business and all of my problems in one fell swoop. Live the hippie, carefree, adventurous life I always thought I wanted.

I could.

Except I’m not that girl anymore.

Because if I left now, it wouldn’t be for an adventure. And it wouldn’t be brave. If I left now, I’d be quitting. Giving up. Because everything I want is right here in Reindeer Falls. I can be a free spirit with a home and a business. With roots and room to grow.

I start the walk back, and I’m resolute, if not happy. Normally I’d really enjoy the time in nature. I’d pick up twigs and enjoy the moment and all that jazz. But right now, I’m still annoyed. And a few minutes into my walk, I’m more than annoyed because I spot Sharon just wandering along the road. By herself. One sad Christmas bow dangling from her horn.

Clearly, it didn’t take long for Jake to allow the entire farm to devolve into chaos. Did he just set the goats free?

That. Absolute. Prick.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take much to get Sharon to follow me. Because she’s a domesticated goat and not a wild goat that can just be set loose into the wild to fend for herself. I’m fuming and trying to wrestle an old shoe Sharon found on the roadside out of her mouth when a honking, bleating Porsche pulls up. It’s Jake and… Farmer John? Jesus, what is he doing, dumping them one by one?

“I’m glad you’re out of my Airstream because I was on my way back to kick you out. And you’re just going to have to wait a few more days before you start bulldozing everything. Because it’s Christmas, if you haven’t noticed. And in Reindeer Falls, that’s a good enough excuse for an extension.”

“Will you stop?” Jake says, slamming on the brakes next to me. “God, Sutton, you are such a… such a fucking nutcracker.”

I gasp. How dare he. If Maggie were here, she would cite him for sure. I’m about to tell him as much, but he cuts me off before I can get the words out.

“I told the town that I was not going to move forward with the golf course plan because I’d found a much more viable option with a local goat farmer.”