The Greeting Card Girl’s Christmas

The Greeting Card Girl’s Christmas

A.C. Cargill

Wordwooze Publishing

wordwooze.com

© 2024 by A.C. Cargill

All rights reserved

Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without written permission from the author or publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without permission is punishable by law. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Cover design by A.C. Cargill

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Other books by A.C. Cargill:

Wind Down the Chimney and Other Eerie Tales

The Stardust Alliance and More

The Wiccan Tales

Dedication

To John Dick, the best hubby in the world and the giver of time!

Chapter 1

Merry Christmas!

Thanks, and Merry Christmas to you.

The voices in the hallway came through the apartment door very clearly, much to Stacy Frost’s dismay.

On this Black Friday and with Thanksgiving barely done, the season was doing its best to invade Stacy’s life, and she was battling to keep that from happening. The two previous years had been the same. She had been hired as a greeting card designer a few months before that first Christmas and just after graduating from the art school in her hometown of Steadville off Highway 70 on the eastern side of Colorado. She had won the battle then, but this time she wasn’t so sure she wanted that victory. Even so, she was valiantly shutting out the holiday cheer that had burst forth around her as she lived what she had come to think of as upside-down from everyone around her.

Stacy called her boss Sam Dowling, Art Department Head at the Sterling Greeting Card Company in Denver, and filled him in on her progress.

"Hi, Sam. Stacy here. … Glad the new Easter card designs passed the review session. … Yes, watching Easter Parade helped. Thanks for the suggestion. Just finishing the Mother’s Day designs. … Sure, I’ll make the deadline. I’ll send them by courier instead of delivering them in person so I can start right away on the Father’s Day designs and then the wedding designs. … Here? A madhouse of Christmas stuff. It snowed last night, which enhanced things. … I’m shutting it all out—curtains closed tight, sunlamp on—that sort of thing. … Well, I was planning to send the Father’s Day designs by courier, too—cheaper than Uber. I only pay for one-way travel, not two. Besides, I want to be here for the family. Mom makes a big deal out of Christmas Eve. Not sure if my brother will be home on leave then. Haven’t heard from him about it. He just talks about his Navy buddies. … Yeah, Thanksgiving was great. Mom made a very traditional meal—turkey and all that. I brought two cans of cranberry sauce—one whole berry and one jellied. … Don’t laugh. It’s what she asked for. Dad likes one. Mom likes the other. And you know me. I don’t cook worth a darn, and forget about baking anything. … Yeah, Mom tried to teach me and gave up. Well, I need to get back to work. Say ‘hi’ to your wife for me. … Yes, and to the kids. … Move to Denver? Mom’d be up there every weekend, dragging Dad along. Besides, Steadville’s a lot cheaper. Well, gotta go. … Okay, talk to you next month. Bye."

Stacy ended the call and set down the cell phone on her drafting table in the living room of her one-bedroom apartment on the other side of Steadville from her parents’ house. She turned on the sunlamp by that table and looked around at the posters on the walls of the Beach Boys and summer scenes, including gardens blooming profusely. She tried to shut out the greetings of Merry Christmas coming from her neighbors as they passed each other in the hallway outside her door on the second floor of the building. This upside-down lifestyle could be difficult to maintain.

In exasperation, Stacy started her iPod playing Surfer Girl for the hundredth time. It was her mother’s favorite song and helped Stacy think loving mother while lessening the sounds of the season around her. She had her thermostat set at eighty degrees and perspired in her light cotton dress and sandals, worn to keep her in a Mother’s Day mood.

Adjusting had been tough for Stacy at first, but she was heading into her third year as the designer of the Heart’s Desire card line and felt like she was finally getting used to being upside-down from the world around her. Sam, his fellow managers, and the company president preferred the six-months-ahead design schedule as the best way to keep up with the latest holiday trends.

That meant Stacy worked on graduation card designs in January while Steadville residents dug out of heavy snow. In February she worked on cards for Independence Day when people were springing into a romantic mood. March meant anniversary and birthday cards while people were parading and wearing the green. April was Halloween cards as nature bloomed from its winter rest. May was Thanksgiving themes instead of celebrating mothers. June was Christmas cards as the temperature soared. July was New Year’s cards when Independence Day fireworks and talk of summer vacations dominated. August was Valentine’s Day cards when the summer heat became oppressive. September was St. Patrick’s Day when autumn was showing the first sign of its color display. October was Easter when Halloween decorations and trick-or-treaters were everywhere. November was Mother’s Day when Thanksgiving preparations were in full force. And she ended the year doing Father’s Day and weddings in December during the Christmas season with snow, yard displays, and carolers, before starting all over again with graduation cards.

Stacy had a few days to finish up the Mother’s Day designs and was anxious to move on from them. Her deadline for those Father’s Day designs seemed a long way off, but she knew it would rush at her faster than she could imagine. Deadlines always did. Sometimes it made her feel like Alice in Wonderland running and running just to stay in the same place.

When Sam Dowling had hired her, Stacy had considered moving to Denver, but her mother Jennifer Frost had been so upset at the thought that Stacy had convinced Sam to let her work from home. And she had done that work in her bedroom at her parents’ house for a couple months. Soon, Stacy realized she needed a certain environment around her to create designs for cards that wouldn’t appear in stores until about six months later. Her mother had tried to be accommodating, letting her redecorate her bedroom for summer during that first Christmas, but her mother had also liked to play Christmas songs on the CD player while she cleaned the house. And Jennifer had balked at Stacy changing out the décor of her room during summer to a wintry scene, which had made Stacy see that she needed a place of her own. Her friend Patty Simmons had told her about this apartment, and Stacy had signed a lease right after seeing it.

After finishing the last of the lemonade in her glass, Stacy headed to the kitchen to see what she had for dinner. She set the glass down on the counter, opened the refrigerator, and saw it was almost empty. A half-full pitcher of lemonade, a jar of green olives Stacy had bought on impulse the last time she was at Tim’s Market, and one slice of whole grain bread in its plastic bag were all she saw. She sighed and opened the freezer door. It was worse, with only a tray of ice cubes. Next, she opened the door of the cupboard. There was a can of green beans and a box of cheese-flavored crackers. She sighed again and thought, It’s Black Friday. Maybe I should order something delivered—pizza—or Chinese—or from that new Mexican place.

She stood a moment, imagining fighting her way through the crowds. But maybe Tim’s Market wouldn’t be so bad. Surely, most people would be buying gifts at the shopping mall or ordering them online, not buying groceries.

This is where the heroine in the movie talks to her cat, said Stacy aloud to the room, and says something silly like, ‘Don’t look at me with those kitty eyes. Make yourself useful. Go to the store for me.’ She sighed. On second thought, when would I have time to care for a cat? And it’d sit on my lap while I’m working. There’d be cat hair all over the painting by the time I was done.

Stacy laughed lightly and returned to the living room, picked up her cell phone, and ordered a ride through the Uber app. She headed to her bedroom and changed into warm clothing while she waited for the ride to arrive. Her apartment faced the street, and just as she was putting on her coat, boots, scarf, and hat she saw from her bedroom window a car pull up.

Dang! That was fast, she thought.

She grabbed her gloves, iPod, and earbuds, and rushed down the stairs and out the front door. As she neared the car, she saw that it was a compact and appeared to be electric. There was a plastic Rudolph head attached to the front of the car and a plastic reindeer end on the car’s back. At least they’re on the right ends, thought Stacy, grimacing.

Then the driver got out. He looked about her age or a year or two older and wore a Santa suit—red velvet with white trim, a wide black belt cinched up tight, and black boots. But he had no hat, fake beard, or padding. His hair was dark brown, curly, and just long enough for someone to run her fingers through. He smiled as he started to open the back door for her. Any other young woman would probably have found him attractive, but to Stacy he was merely annoying.

Don’t bother. I’ll get it.

Stacy opened the back passenger door and got in, buckling her seatbelt and leaning against the seat cushion.

The driver got in the car.

You’re new, aren’t you? asked Stacy rather crossly. I mean, I’ve been using Uber a couple years now and haven’t seen you before.

Yeah, just started.

Bing Crosby was crooning Chestnuts roasting on an open fire on the car radio.

Could you turn that off or at least down? asked Stacy, putting her earbuds in her ears and turning up the volume on her iPod.

Sure, said the driver, but Stacy didn’t hear him. She was busy trying not to look at the tinsel garland and holiday lights strung around the inside of the car and the dancing Santa on the dashboard.

Where to? asked the driver, turning to look at her.

Stacy didn’t answer as she leaned back with her eyes closed, listening to a song about how wonderful mothers were. Wonderful but a little smothering, she thought, her own mother coming to mind.

Hello! said the driver more loudly.

Stacy opened her eyes and looked up. Huh? She pulled the earbuds out of her ears and sat up.

I need to know where you want to go, stated the driver again.

Oh. Sorry. I thought you’d see it on the app. Tim’s Market on Fifth. You know where that is? Stacy saw him nod, and then she sat back and put the earbuds back in her ears, trying to regain that motherly mood.

The driver pulled away from the curb, drove down the street, and then said, My name’s Jack. Bet you can’t guess my last name.

Stacy saw he was talking to her and removed her earbuds again. What?

I said my name’s Jack, and I bet you can’t guess my last name.

Beanstalk, said Stacy curtly and started to put her earbuds back in her ears.

Ha! Good one. Most people guess ‘Frost’.

I’d never guess that.

Why not?

Stacy shook her head and put her earbuds back in her ears.

Want to know what it is? asked Jack.

Stacy saw him talking again and took her earbuds back out.

I asked if you want to know what it is, he repeated as he drove.

She sighed and said, So, tell me.

It’s Anjill.

What?

Anjill. A—n—j—i—l—l.

Oh.

Stacy looked annoyed as she started to put her earbuds back in her ears.

Jack and Jill. Get it? said Jack with a grin. My parents have a real sense of humor.

Which you don’t seem to have inherited if you think that’s humorous, said Stacy in a snarky tone. She added under her breath, Too bad they didn’t teach you manners, and put her earbuds back in her ears once again.

Jack thought, Oops, and stayed quiet for the rest of the drive, working his way through the Black Friday traffic. They arrived at Tim’s Market, crowded with shoppers going for the special deals.

Tim Sullivan had first opened the market about five years earlier. He stocked upscale foods, including a wide array of cheeses and delicacies such as live oysters and Russian caviar, along with a lot of regular foods. Stacy liked the store because she wanted to broaden her tastes from the very limited and traditional menu her mother had prepared over the years. Stacy hadn’t minded meatloaf, fried chicken, roast beef, and baked ham, as well as the roast chicken every Sunday, but she had wanted to explore new taste sensations.

I’ll wait for you, said Jack as Stacy jumped out of his car.

No need. Besides, I’ll be awhile. Stacy didn’t want to have another ride in the Christmas car with a driver in a Santa suit. I’ll request another ride through the app when I’m done.

How long?

About an hour, said Stacy without thinking.

It’s pretty crowded in there.

It’s okay. I know what I want and where it is in the store, said Stacy, again with a little snarky tone in her voice.

You won’t get another Uber then, said Jack, ignoring her tone. Busy season. It’s Black Friday. See you in an hour.

He drove off.

Stacy watched him leave, shook her head, and went into the grocery store, wearing her earbuds to drown out Christmas music playing over the store’s speakers. For the past two Christmases, she had done the same routine, blocking out as much of the holiday cheer around her as she could manage so she could keep the feeling of summer. For some reason, this year it seemed much harder to do. Maybe it was because more people were calling out holiday greetings and more houses and businesses had their decorations up even before Thanksgiving. Maybe it was because she missed it all. This had been her favorite time of year, and now she had to shut it out.

Stacy cruised the aisles of the crowded store, going as directly as possible to the usual areas where she bought