A. Mayes - A Slice of Christmas Magic

Dear Elodie,

My sister recently moved back to town. She had lived out of state for the last fifteen years. I’m so excited about her return and want to invite her along to everything I do. My problem is the only thing she wants to do is square dance. She turns down all of my invitations and will only call me once a week to ask me to go square dancing with her. I’ll be honest, I hate square dancing, but I’ll go to be with my sister. I’ve tried telling her I would like her to come along to some of the things I invite her to, but she just dismisses me, saying she’s busy. Am I wrong to be upset by this? Can I quit square dancing without quitting my sister?

Sincerely,

Round Peg in a Square Dancing Hole

Dear Round Peg in a Square Dancing Hole,

It sounds like you’ve given your sister every opportunity to do something other than square dance with you, and you’ve made your feelings known. It’s possible she feels overwhelmed. If she’s been away from family for fifteen years, it could take some adjusting before she’s used to your invitations. Maybe she’s getting just as many invitations from other family members. Also, if you keep doing exactly what she wants, she has no reason to accept your invitations. Maybe you can square dance with her one week and the next week you can tell her you’re busy on square dancing night, but if she’d like to go to dinner with you a different night, that would be wonderful.

Ask and I’ ll Answer,

Elodie

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of pancakes. I took a deep breath and stretched out on the sofa. Mitzy, so excited to see movement, catapulted onto my face.

I yelped, thinking for the umpteenth time that I needed to get my own place. I had been looking. Sort of. But part of me wasn’t sure it was worth the effort. Was this just a temporary move or a more permanent one? Life in Hocus Hills had been so crazy from the moment I got here that I hadn’t thought about my life in the city much since I’d arrived. Josh’s arrival reminded me of the simple comforts I had there – an apartment to myself, a job I was good at, and weeks on end without the threat of being attacked by some power-hungry magical person.

“Oh good, you’re up,” Aunt Erma said, peeking her head around the corner from the kitchen.

“Yup, thanks to the fuzzy alarm clock here.” I pointed to Mitzy, who danced around on the floor next to me. She was like that friend that everyone had. The one that thought you were best friends even though you weren’t. She never sensed my hesitation to reciprocate her affections.

“I made chocolate-chip pancakes,” she said, holding up a steaming plate.

“Yum.” I was off the sofa now. I poured myself a cup of coffee. “What’s on the agenda for today? Please tell me we’re not tackling a town who’s set on making the world’s largest pot-holder, are we? I’m still recovering from yesterday.”

“No, nothing like that,” Aunt Erma said. “At least, not that I know of,” she added.

“Look at this.” I pulled up the side of my shirt to show her two small bruises on my ribs. “Someone jabbed me with their knitting needles. I guess I should consider myself lucky that they didn’t skewer me.”

Aunt Erma inspected the bruises closely, her brow furrowed. She ran her finger over them, and I flinched.

“That’s not good,” she said. “They shouldn’t be able to hurt you.”

“What do you mean? Was I supposed to have some sort of magical shield around me? Because I definitely forgot to wear my armor yesterday.” I scooped a couple of pancakes onto my plate and slathered them with butter. “Do you think they make such a thing? Like giant thimbles for your body.”

“They shouldn’t have been able to hurt you because none of the magic from my spices should make people do that,” she said.

“But the Drakes changed them. Can’t they make the magic do whatever they want?”

She shook her head firmly. “Not my magic. Not like this.”

I stared at her, waiting for more of an explanation.

“I’m careful. Even if they redirect the power, they shouldn’t be able to redirect my original intention,” she said.

I nodded slowly, not sure I completely understood. “But aren’t some people inclined to hurt other people? Maybe it was the person, not the magic.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Aunt Erma said, but I could tell she was still concerned.

“Have you heard anything more from Violet?” I asked.

She shook her head. “And today we’re not going to think about it.”

“We’re not?” I asked, my mouth full of chocolate-chip pancakes. I knew if my mother was here, she would remind me that she raised me better than to talk with my mouth full, but the pancakes were just so darn good. They were light and fluffy, and the chocolate chips were melted just right. Aunt Erma had even topped them with whipped cream and shaped them like animals as she used to do when I was a kid. I was eating the ear off a dog when I noticed Mitzy giving me a disapproving glare.

“How does she know I’m eating the dog pancake?” I wondered under my breath.

“Magic,” Aunt Erma said with a wink. “Now today, instead of focusing on the evil plot to take over our beloved town, we are going to decorate for Christmas.”

“Decorate? Even more than we already have?” I asked. I thought about all the tinsel we’d hung and the cardboard Santa cutouts in every corner of the shop downstairs.

“Yes, we’re just getting started,” she said, sitting down across from me with her own stack of pancakes and a cup of coffee. “We have paper snowflakes to make for the snowman-building competition. Last year I cut out three hundred tiny snowflakes and hung them all over the square. It was beautiful, if I do say so myself. I used this glittery paper that was thin, slippery, and a little hard to work with, but it was worth it.”

I tried not to cringe at the thought of cutting out paper snowflakes. It sounded like just the kind of project I would normally try to find an excuse to escape.

“Don’t you need me to run the pie shop? We’ve been pretty busy lately,” I said. I felt proud of my valid excuse to avoid this task.

“Don’t worry, your mother is coming, and we can all take turns serving people as they come in. The Morning Pie Crew is coming too. Flora has a project she thought we’d all enjoy as well. I think it has something to do with folding paper flowers out of book pages. I think to make garlands to hang around trees.” I tried to hold in a groan. “But anyway, they’ll be able to help while they’re here too.”

“Don’t they have their own shops to run?” I asked. Now I was desperate to get out of this. Mr. Barnes was a yoga teacher, so I knew he had some free time depending on his schedule, but Lena ran the hardware store, and Flora owned the bookstore. Didn’t people need to fix things and buy books this time of year?

“All their holiday employees are up to speed and can do without them for a few hours. Plus, today’s going to be quiet. Lots of people are getting ready for the snowman-building contest,” she said. “Which reminds me, we probably need to practice a few more times.”

Wow, this day just kept getting better and better.

***

It turned out my knitting injuries weren’t a good enough excuse to get out of snowflake making. Two hours later I could barely feel my fingers. Lena, Flora, Mr. Barnes, my mother, Aunt Erma, and I all crowded around two of the three tables at the front of the pie shop. Customers were wandering in here and there, and I always made sure I was the first one to leap out of my chair to serve them. In between Aunt Erma explained the importance of the paper snowflakes.