1123 Candy Cane Lane (Cherry Falls)

“It’s right here,” she stops walking and points.

“Aww, it’s like a doll’s house.” It really is. Tiny, kitsch, but charming. A small white brick house with a gabled roof, and a bay window near the large bright coral front door.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “She had it custom built. Like a cottage on the beach, but for Barbie.” We walked up to the front porch. “If you think this is over-the-top you should see the inside, it’s like an antique store. A really, really overstocked one.” She smiles and takes Trixie’s leash from my hand. “But it was all hers, so I can’t really change a thing, ya know?”

“Shit, I remember this place!”

“Wait, what?”

Shit, I said that out loud.

“Yeah, my mom was friend’s with this lady. She made cookies and cakes every week for the farmer’s market over the summer. In winter we sold some of the stuff she made at the store. God, my mom told me when the market first opened, if it wasn’t for her cakes it would’ve shut down. Her baking brought in the customers it desperately needed. The market operates more like a community co-op, without loyal return customers it can’t exist.”

Holly’s smile grows. “Yeah, we would make pies together every summer. Apple pie, blueberry pie, strawberry rhubarb pie. All the pies!” We both laugh, and then she sniffs softly. “She didn’t tell anyone she was sick. Probably thought she would’ve been a burden, ya know? I like to think my dad would’ve paid for treatment… We were shocked when we heard she died. I wasn’t even thinking of a will until they told me she left me a whole house, mortgage paid off and everything. Thought maybe it would be the change of scenery I needed…” She trails off, looking down at the ground while O’Malley nearly remounts Trixie. “You knew her, do you want to see inside? It probably hasn’t changed a bit since you were a kid.”

I gave O’Malley a tug of the leash to get him off Trixie.“Well, I’m flattered that my most insolent elf in the workshop wants to give me a tour. But I need to get home. Maybe tomorrow, after the fest? Since, ya know, I’ll be seeing you.” I ended with a wink and she blushes as she shuts the peppy pink door.

Damn if I hadn’t just met the elf of my dreams.

4

Four - Holly

I couldn’t sleep after what Santa told me about my aunt.

So instead, I snooped around and found boxes of old scrapbooks, diaries, and even yearbooks tucked away in the walk-in closet. Sepia polaroids and disposable camera pics printed at Walgreens spread around my blanket told me everything I already knew about my aunt. Her arm was around every person she posed with. She’s pulling them in close with a big, toothy smile plastered on her face. She never met a stranger.

God, how different would my life be if I grew up here with her? There was only one picture in which her smile was forced. It was with my mother. Her arms weren’t around my mother, they were stiff, her hands clutching a small bouquet of roses. She wore a silk champagne gown and had her hair slicked back. She even had a full face of makeup on, which she never did. Beside her in the photo was my mother in a poofy white ball gown, it was the day my mother married my father. I don’t think my aunt knew anything about my father that my mother, her baby sister, didn’t. She must have had a feeling, even then.

Surrounded by my father and all his bigwig friends in the city, it’s hard not to feel it. They always brought gin or bourbon for him and stuffed animals for me. They greeted him with two kisses on the cheek and would pick me up and spin me around for hugs. Of course they loved us, how could they not? All the deals my father was making kept them out of jail and their pockets lined with cash, his skills for settling out of court grew to legendary status in Syn City. My mom knew it was hard to hide. She always made me go to bed when they first came over. She didn’t want me overhearing anything. I always stayed up though and listened to the gossip and business talk with my ear pressed to the door. She caught me a few times and always scolded me. After she died, there was no one to make sure I was really sleeping, and I heard everything. I stopped coming out to greet them when they first arrived. I knew what they were like, and I didn’t want their presents or their hugs or adorations. Most of all I didn’t want their jokes about how I could be their next wife in eight years. I insulated myself then, and never turned back.