December 24th,
Gretel paced the floor. She’d just gotten the call – how was she supposed to break it to Jenny? The girl had been living here for months, finally close to comfortable, and now this was happening...
Unfortunately, she didn’t have much time to think on it, since she was coming down the hall. She stepped into the kitchen, her dirty blonde hair ratted from sleep. She was pale and skinny - not underweight anymore, just skinny. She'd been doing so much better since she'd moved in.
Jennifer looked right into her grandma’s eyes and knew something was off. Deciding it couldn’t anything too bad, she just opened the fridge and took out some milk.
“What’s up, Grandma?”
She looked down at her shaky hands, they back up. “Something happened, sweetie. They… They’re letting your father out of jail.”
Jennifer dropped glass she had yet to fill. As it shattered at her feet, her eyes stayed locked on Gretel’s. It was a good thirty seconds before she replied: “Why?”
Gretel walked over to her, slowly. “Good behavior, honey. He claims he’s changed. He’s coming over tonight, wants to get custody back for you. Jenny,” she added hesitantly as Jennifer shook her head. “Jenny, everything will be fine –”
“Don’t let him come here. He can’t come here. He can’t have me. I hate him!”
Gretel took her hand, but that only made her shove away and dash downstairs. “Jenny! Come back here, please, just –”
“Whoa!” The nurses almost got run over by Jennifer as she cut through them, outside. Robyn had just ridden over with the girls, talking about the men of Fun. For her it’d been out of boredom, for Terry and Rachel they may have been discussing one of their future husbands.
Gretel held onto the bottom of the staircase, wheezing. For the most part, she was the healthiest old lady Robyn had ever seen - strangely strong, bright-eyed every day - but she had her moments.
Robyn looked at Terry and Rachel, who were too busy giggling about the snowmobiling banker – the mysterious man all single ladies dreamed about and all married women hid their kids from – to notice.
"You okay, Gretel?" Robyn held the fragile old woman steady.
She finally caught her breath, then smiled. She was lucky to have Robyn and all these sweet nurses here. "Thank you, dear. I'm all right. Oh..." She rubbed her forehead. "Someone go out, bring Jenny back! She's probably run out into the street..."
"Uh, Grandma?" Terry looked out the window. "It doesn't look like she made it much farther than the yard."
Gretel narrowed her eyes. She stepped outside and then froze on the front porch. Jennifer was perfectly fine, just a few steps on the yard. They were both hypnotized by something else.
Light posts were wrapped in tinsel and ribbons. The main businesses in town had been lit up by pretty twinkling lights. Six inches of snow had even fallen, creating that last element of a winter wonderland. Fun’s Main Street had been transformed overnight into Christmas.

Mayor Ander Fun’s voicemail was almost entirely full, and he had to ask his secretary Jean what he was supposed to do about it. These people never called unless they had a problem, which apparently was someone decorating your town overnight followed by a dusting of snow. Of course, HIS problem was that he didn’t have an answer for them.
Chris wasn’t aware anyone had decorated Main Street. And how’d they get it all done overnight? There was a surprising amount of tinsel and lights out there. Who was paying that electric bill? It sure as hell wasn’t him.
He went and called every home in Fun, let them know everything was fine, and that was that. Then came a surprising visitor.
“Mr. Fun?” Jean stepped in. “You’re daughter-in-law’s here to see you.”
He stood up from his desk as Naomi Tine - now Fun, since she'd married his son - stepped in, beautiful and, well, pregnant as ever. He wasn’t sure if she’d stopped talking to him and Hannah when she knew she was having the baby or when Wes left for Iraq, but it was one of the two. It didn’t matter – he was grateful to see a friendly, although guarded, face.
“Hey! Come on in." He walked around is desk and enveloped her in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You look lovely.”
Naomi nervously smiled. “Thank you, Chris. You look…right now a little desperate to get out of work, honestly.”
That made him laugh. “Hit the nail right on the head. Sit down. Now, you haven’t come to harass me about the Christmas lights, have you?”
“Yeah, what is going on with that?”
“I take it that’s a yes.”
The laugh almost accidentally slipped through her lips. “Just wondering, not trying to –”
“Nah, it’s fine.” Chris took a seat at his desk across from her. “I honestly don’t know, must’ve been some kids. I wouldn’t blame them. It has been pretty grey around here, and if we had the funding I’d’ve set it up myself." He probably wouldn't have. "Whoever it was did a hell of a job, though.”
Naomi nodded. “They did. Listen, that wasn’t what I came to talk to you about.”
“All right, what would that be?”
She rested her hands on her belly, tapping her fingers anxiously. “Someone left a package at my door. A care package. Diapers, baby formula, toys, a decent chunk of money…”
Chris leaned back in his chair. “God, I can’t believe it. Of course, Wes does have his way around things…”
"It wasn’t you?” She met his eyes, confused.
"No… I would have, you just never asked, is all.” He squirmed a little, feeling awkward. It was the truth, she hadn’t. Of course, it made him guilty, knowing he could’ve, should’ve, helped and didn’t.
Naomi sat up a little straighter. “Right, right, I know what you mean. It’s fine, but…there was no return address. It couldn’t have been Wes – and if it was where would he have found diapers in Iraq? I’ve already bugged anyone who might’ve done it” – Robyn had sworn on her life it wasn’t her –“but I thought maybe you and Hannah…”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t us. Look, if I were you, I wouldn’t think about it so much. Whoever sent it clearly knew you were having a hard time, and anonymously wanted to help. Can’t it be comforting to know that there are good people out there who want to help but don’t want to take all the credit?”
She cradled her belly. “It isn’t comforting knowing I don’t deserve it.”
“Hey, honey, you can’t –”
“I haven’t spoken to you or anyone since he left.” There was the first flash of real emotion behind her eyes. “I’ve been a complete b****, only thinking about myself and how I’m going to fix this without…”
On top of her husband leaving, her brothers were in joovy and her parents hated her. And yet she’d done a good job keeping her hormones in balance in public. Until now.
“Oh, sweetheart Naomi.” Chris jumped out of this seat. “Don’t cry, come on now.”
Naomi rushed to get her coat on, practically sprinted to the door before she really lost it. Then Chris caught her, hugged her again, and she couldn’t hold back.
“I miss him too, sweetie. It’s okay, he’ll be okay.”
She bawled in his arms, while Chris stroked her hair. He’d done the same thing to Wes’s older sister, who now was married with kids in New York. Before she grew up, teenage Penny would fall hopelessly in love with dozens of boys, cry for hours over them. This was clearly different, but it didn’t change the fact that he knew what he was doing.
He brushed some tears from her face. “You wanna stay with us for Christmas? We’d love to have you.”
Naomi wiped at her eyes. What was she supposed to say to that? A part of her wanted to reject it, sure that he just would say anything to get her to stop crying. But a small, less persuasive part thought, Chris and Hannah are still family. And she didn’t have many people to say that about.
She was about to accept when her phone went off. “Sorry.” She stared at it for a moment, almost unable to believe the caller I.D. Her mother hadn’t called Naomi in at least two years – since the wedding.
“Hello?” Mom was apparently having an episode of her own. She was crying intelligibly hard, and Naomi had to nearly shout into the phone to get her to calm down – which wasn’t hard. “Mom! Calm down – what’s wrong with you? What happened?”
The one blubbered sentence Naomi could pick apart had her dropping the phone
“Naomi! The boys, they’re coming home!”

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Jennifer sat Indian style on the Ander Flipp's couch.
Ben's face fell. Her dad? That wasn’t possible, how could he have gotten out so early? It had only been four months.
“You can stay here, but if your grandmother comes over, I can’t just –”
“Tell her I’m not here. I mean it, Ben.”
He knew her father. Before the accident, Mr. Carrl was such a good guy. He'd taught Ben to pick up girls, and sure it hadn't worked, it was better than the nothing he got from his own dad. He'd known the all Carrl’s since he was a kid. Jenny's sister Tracey was the girliest girl you’d ever meet, obsessed with princesses and sparkles. Jennifer was more up Ben’s alley, a fun tomboy. As they got older, Jenny grew closer to rebellious rock music, and Tracey became the most popular girl in their school. And their mom – Mrs. Carrl was the best. The kitchen always smelled delicious: bread, cookies, cake, anything that could make your mouth water. It always felt more like home over there than anywhere else.
That’s why he cried right along with Jenny at the funeral.
She didn’t like to talk about her mom and sister. She used to, for a while after they’d died, and then stopped. He had a feeling she just wanted to move on. The thing was, her dad wouldn’t let her. That’s way she was so against him.
“You can’t expect to hide out here.”
“What am I supposed to do? My life’s gonna be hell again if he gets custody of me. And if he doesn’t, he’ll probably…” She didn’t say anything, just crossed her arms, chilled.
Ben tilted his head, reading her. “Is that what you’re worried about? Jen, he’s not so far off he’d try taking you from your Grandma.”
Jennifer locked eyes with him. “Shut up. I’m not scared of anything, especially not him.”
He held the stare. “Don’t be mad at me. I only want to help, all right?”
She didn’t say anything for a while. They just stared long and hard at each other, until Ben's tween sister came up and snapped in their faces.
“Ha! Made you jump!”
Ben groaned.
“God, Mary, not now.”
“Hey, you’re the ones gazing into each other’s –”
“Gazing?” Jenny laughed for the first time since she’d come in. “Come on. You of all people know how gross your brother is.” She winked at Ben, letting her know that they were okay.
He smiled too, then looked at his sister. “Don’t you have some Christmas movies to watch?”
“Nah, the Junkin kids and I are walking around town. You want to come?” Mary was close to those kids because she'd babysat them for years, even when they couldn't pay her anymore.
Jenny shied a smile. “That’s okay, Mary. We’re just staying at the house.”
“Mom said you had to. She wants Ben to watch us.” She smiled triumphantly at her brother. “So you have to.”
Ben sighed, shrugged to Jennifer, and they got their coats on.
The rest of Ben's siblings were coming, apparently – Jackson probably wanted someone to argue with, and four-year-old Skylar wanted some bigger kids to be with. The five of them walked across town, oohing and ahhing at anything they found particularly interesting.
They arrived at the Junkin place, the family of gingers. Jennifer and Ben found it ironic, since all three of these kids – and the parents – clearly had souls, since they were so nice. Dominic kept to himself most of the time, but according to Mary hadn’t missed a Sunday at church since he was born. Gemma, her red hair bright and curly and down to her waist, rarely missed a Sunday but always was baking things for anybody, not just the church. Kirsti was eight, but looked five due to her adorable height and voice, and could actually life any weight or open any jar thrust upon her.
Ben and Jennifer stayed back, just so they could see them. They didn’t mind these kids, just didn’t want to be a part of their games – mostly making up stories about the Nick Conner. He was no different than any other non-locals in this town, really other than the fact that he rode a snowmobile to work. The guy was a stranger, and Ben didn’t pay him much attention. He was like Justin Beiber – became famous for no reason, liked to be built up and then torn down, while a small portion sincerely didn’t care about it. The only difference was that the snowmobiling banker seemed as oblivious as Ben was.
Jennifer shivered as her old sneakers soon became drenched in snow. “So how'd your parents take it?"
"Take what?"
"How they need to find someone else manage they diner when they die, accept what you want to be?" He hadn't even told them he wanted to be an actor yet. His parents were difficult people. They'd just expected him to keep Flipp's Diner going because he was the oldest, not even considering any one of his siblings. Ben hadn't wanted to screw up their plans, but then realized he sincerely hated working at a diner. But he'd chickened out in telling them yesterday. Now Jenny was waiting for an answer.
"It was a mess. A disaster. I'm cut out of the will - can we move on?"
Jennifer sighed, nodded. If he was going to lie, he'd better be ready for it to blow up in his face.

Anna Junkin shook the snow off her boots. She didn’t think she’d have to use them at all this year, but the weathermen were pretty off today.
She'd heard it was supposed to get up to sixty-five today, and it was in the thirties. For once, her heart had warmed a little coming into town. The lights were gorgeous – bright, twinkling yellow. Each streetlight was wrapped in either lights or tinsel. The occasional dull tree on the corner jingled with the sleigh bells hanging from them. The few business’s in town – the bank, market, motel, diner, and church – had been strained with some lights and tinsel, although not as intensely as the rest of Fun. She had a feeling whoever had done the lights had decorated those places too after they closed; the owners wouldn’t have done it themselves at all.
Now she took off her winterwear, plopped herself on the couch. She’d had the day off from work, as most everyone did from work in Fun, which was especially nice since she and Ferris both at the bank wasn’t enough to cover their debt. So she’d spent her day, as awful as it sounded, getting one thing for each of her kids. Kirsti would get a stuffed beanie baby, Dominic an inflatable football, and Gemma a pair of oven gloves. They couldn't afford anything more; they still had piles of debt to cover from the Bed n' Breakfast, also known as the worst idea they'd ever had. Thinking about it depressed her.
So she thought of the kids, off exploring the new sparkling town. The Ander Flipp kids were with them, so Anna wasn’t all that worried. Mary had been babysat for her for years - for free, nonetheless.
Okay, she needed to stop thinking about money.
She just wanted to see what Ferris was up to. Maybe they could even relax for two seconds, she thought, coming into the kitchen.
There was a letter on the table. At first she figured Ferris had brought in the mail, but there was only one here, and it didn’t look like a bill. No return address. She carefully opened it, read the little note. Anna then frantically ran up the stairs screaming at her husband.
“What? What?” Ferris’s laptop fell out of his lap, its battery popping out as Anna stormed in to their room. He was hardly concerned about the computer – he’d seen her like this before, and it meant he’d royally screwed up.
“What the hell is wrong with you!?”
“Okay, honey, I didn’t get the kids anything. I figured you’d be out today, get some stuff. They’ll understand, we’ll make it up to them…”
“Not that!” Anna unfolded the note she’d been thrashing around, read it. “‘Anna, I don’t know how to break this to you. I have cancer.’ Buddy, you can forget about me forgiving you for leaving a damn note!”
He said nothing. How did this happen? God, why did it have to happen now? He was so full of dread and regret that he didn’t even remember that she was waiting.
Finally, Ferris snapped out of it, looked at her. "I didn’t leave you a note.”
“You very much did. It was on the table.”
“I wouldn’t have told you in a note. I was going to wait until the holidays were over –”
She let out a hateful laugh. “What holiday? We haven’t even addressed that there’s a holiday going on. We haven’t, the kids haven’t, Fun hasn’t... It’s just an ordinary Tuesday for us, not Christmas Eve. You could have told me at any time, and you know it.”
“I lied to you, I kept it from you, and I’m so, so sorry. Please, I –”
“Yeah, yeah, I listened to what you wrote.”
“You don’t understand. I didn’t leave a note. Someone must’ve come into our house and left it.”
Through her steaming rage, Anna considered this. “All right. Say you’re right, that someone broke into the house to leave me this note. That means someone else knew you were dying. Who’d you tell, Ferris? Who the hell could you possibly trust more than me?”
Ferris automatically thought of his wonderful sister Robyn - and how he could make her death look like an accident.
He plucked the note from Anna's hands. Unless his sister had changed her handwriting, she hadn’t written this. “Where’d you find it?”
“Don’t change the – hey, I’m talking to you!”
He was on his way downstairs. If it wasn’t his sister, who got in their house? What if they took something? Money? They could’ve trashed a couple other rooms, damn it. This couldn’t be happening.
Anna was ready to rip his head off. He went to the table, saw the envelope. When he grabbed it and looked inside, Ferris had to hold onto the table for support.
“See?” She was crying now, which was completely and utterly unfair. “You’re getting worse. You should’ve told me. We can fix this – we can’t afford to, but we’ll fix this. Baby, please…”
Ferris finally found his voice. “Anna, look.” He showed her the slip of paper she’d missed in the envelope. It automatically stopped her tears, leaving behind an awestruck expression.
Whatever the burglar had taken, it couldn’t have covered what he’d left them. The envelope had twenty-five thousand dollars in it.

They’d been following the kids for at least an hour, staying back at a safe distance. They were probably making up more stories about the local "snowmobiling banker" – how he had man-eating dogs or fueled his snowmobile with squirrel meat – so Jennifer didn’t bother getting close enough to listen.
After stopping every five seconds to look at lights and more sparkly things in town, Jennifer and Ben realized that the kids were actually going a little farther out then they’d thought. They’d gone past all the houses, and it seemed like they were following the river out of town, down an entire snow-covered field. Ben was even going to call out to them, ask them what they were doing, when his phone went off.
The kids had stopped yet again ahead of them – Skylar thought she saw a frog by the river – so Ben was able to talk to whoever had called him. Jennifer just leaned against a tree by the river, waited for the kids to finish up and Ben to stop arguing with his mother. There wasn’t anyone else he would talk to like that. Finally, he hung up on her.
“Thank God,” Jennifer groaned. “I don’t know how long they’ll be playing with that frog, but – what?”
Something was wrong. Ben just bored his eyes into her, nostrils flaring, fists clenched.
"Hey, what’d I do?”
“You told my parents I didn’t want manage the diner, that I wanted to be an actor. You knew I would handle it, and you told them. What the hell, Jenny?”
She narrowed her eyes. "You told me you talked to them about it yesterday.
“And?”
“And they’re just now figuring it out? Hey, I didn’t say anything, but –”
“You did!” Ben’s voice rose. “My mom found a letter in the kitchen, said I left it. It must have been you. You were here this morning, you probably left it there then.”
“So…you didn’t tell them like I asked you to?”
He was ready to pull out his hair. “What the hell, Jenny?”
“It wasn’t me, jerk. Why would I do that? Seeing as, well, you clearly have it under control.” She kicked herself for that last one. She sincerely didn’t know what was going on, where the supposed letter had come from. All she knew was that this was finally blowing up in his face, but now he was blaming it on her.
“I was waiting to tell them both at once. Mom was at the diner, so –”
“You could have told your dad and you didn’t. Ben...you should’ve told them a long time ago.” She touched his arm. “You’re carrying all this weight around with you, living up to everyone’s expectations. Just stop. Do what you want to; don’t be so scared of letting people down.” She wasn’t sure where all that deep stuff had come from. It should’ve felt cheesy and stupid, but it didn’t. It felt, well, honest. It was from her heart.
Ben gritted his teeth, exhaled, then leaned back against a tree. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“You’re scared too.” He mindlessly played with her hair. “Won’t talk to your dad, or even approach the thought that he might be better. Did it ever occur to you he might want to make things right with you?"
"Don't."
He kept talking. "I’ve known him most of my life. He was a better dad to me than mine was. Yeah, he snapped after the accident –”
"Shut up.”
"–and took it out on you and that liquor store, which got him where he is now. He got out on good behavior –”
“Shut up, Ben.”
“Don’t you think that means something? And he wants to see you. Shouldn’t that mean something? Jenny, come on.”
Jennifer stormed away, wiping at her face. He’d hit a nerve. Well, too bad; she needed to hear it, to think about it.
Ben’s siblings and the Junkin kids walked back towards them. “You guys want to walk with us?” Jackson suggested. “We’re almost there.”
Ben sighed, looked at the ground. “Not right now, Jack. We’re just making sure you guys are okay. You do your thing, we’ll do ours.”
"Or you could come with us.” Kirsti shrugged.
“Yeah, come with us!” Skylar chirped. Jackson nudged her shoulder, and the little girl caught herself. She lowered her voice, said slowly, enunciating each rehearsed word, “But don’t tell anyone.”

Robyn’s day had been all right. Aside from getting several accusing calls from neighbors for leaving stuff in houses or giving away secrets like free candy, her day had been all right. She had two decent conversations – both at the market, with the cashier and the kid bagging her groceries.
Where could she have found the time to sneak into houses and rat people out?
That must’ve been what was going on. As far as her own problems went, someone had told her mother that she in fact wasn’t married with children in a quiet, New York suburb. Mama Junkin insisted Robyn had emailed her late last night, telling her exactly where she was, how very single, not at all eloped in Vegas, and uninteresting her life had become.
“I thought you left Fun years ago!” The woman had screeched over the phone this morning.
After promising to call her back, apologize for the lies and fill her in, Naomi was pounding on her door, demanding why she’d left baby supplies her porch. She was one of Robyn's good friends, but she could get moody sometimes. She was pregnant with a messed up family and a husband in the army - who could blame her?
After that, people were suddenly calling her; insisting that she had spilled the beans about Mr. Jacob’s affair, about Mrs. Ander Fun’s ridiculous shopping problem, about Mrs. Flipp’s nose job which everyone knew about anyway. So, she was the person people would tell their secrets to. Man, it was a wonder that one snowmobiling banker hadn’t accused her of something, even though she’d only spoken to him a handful of times.
Then there was the unbelievable thing with her brother – who the hell just had twenty-five thousand bucks on hand? It didn’t matter, they had money for his surgery and probably enough to cover a good portion of their debt. She was so happy for them… Still, she wondered what was going on.
Robyn was driving home with some bags of groceries, seeing most of the town going into the mayor’s office. That was the go-to option – maybe he was the one ratting everybody out. If that was the case, Robyn was ready to talk to him first thing tomorrow about her mother.
She pulled up to her house, opened the garage. Once inside, after hanging up her keys and jiggling out of her coat, she heard some glasses break in the kitchen.
“Missy?” Robyn called. “God, Missy, get off the –”It wasn’t the cat. Hearing some heavier, somewhat frantic footsteps, she realized someone was in the house.
She tried to remember to breathe, and one she got that down, Robyn reached for the closest weapon: The cheap curling iron she’d just bought. So, she’d gotten herself a little gift – no one else was going to. Besides, it might just end up saving her life…as soon as she could plug it in.
Robyn walked slowly, steadily through the dark living room. It sounded like he’d been coming towards her, forgetting there was a back door in the kitchen. Now he was hiding in here, must’ve been.
"You better come out.” She wouldn’t let her voice shake. “I just got back from the market, bought a whole new set of knives.” Even thought she had little faith in her weapon. “You return what you stole and I won’t have to use them.”
Nothing moved. Robyn quickly remembered that it would be best to turn on the lights on, see his face. Doing so, it occurred to her he might be wearing a mask, and that it wouldn’t do any good either way, and then she thought… God, it’s just a kid.
One of the Junkin kids had just stepped out of behind the loveseat. It was the smallest, the youngest that looked like she was five when she was really ten or something. She looked down at her hands guiltily.
“Kirsti?” The name suddenly came to Robyn. “Kirsti, how did you get in here?”
“I…” She was shaking, her mouth wide open until she blurted out, “It was an accident.”
“What?”
"Your glasses,” she said. “I didn’t mean to break anything; I just wanted to look at them…”
“Oh my God.” Robyn ran her fingers through her hair, thinking of the precious wine glasses she’d washed and set out to ease her nerves today. “Why the hell –”
The reflective paper winking at her cut her off. There were three presents – small, relatively big, and rectangular – wrapped in red, a sloppily tied pink blow on top of each of them, in the corner. Immediately her mind thought of three things: makeup case, painting easel, curling iron.
“What are those?”
"I…it’s a long story.”
“Tell me, now.” She couldn’t say why she was just as scared of the presents in her living room as Fun had been of the Christmas lights this morning. “What’s going on?”
Kirsti took a deep breath, looked up shyly. “Gemma went down to say hi to Mom at the bank yesterday, and Mr. Conner talked to her. He told her what he wanted to do, that he needed help.”
“Conner…?” The name just barely triggered her memory.
The girl craned her neck to see past Robyn’s shoulder. She turned around, saw some headlights outside coming in through the window. Except they weren’t a car’s headlights.
“What, the banker? The snowmobiling banker?”
The front door suddenly opened, and I stepped into the living room, decked in a pair of snow pants, blue snowmobiling jacket, and white helmet. “Evening, Robyn.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, looked me up and down. “Hi. I didn’t invite you in.”
“Yeah, I don’t blame you. I am just a stranger.”
“Right. What are you doing here?”
“I’ll explain later. Probably.” I tucked the helmet under my arm. “Maybe. Listen, we’re on a tight schedule. You could go ahead and tell anyone you want about you seeing me, but it might just spoil the mood for everyone. Still, I can’t force you to keep this to yourself.”
“Keep what to myself? What are you talking about?”
I patted Kirsti’s back. “Come on, kiddo. The rest are close to done, and it’s time for the finale.” I looked up at the still skeptical Robyn. “We could use some help, actually…”

People were scared. Maybe it was fear the whole time, even though they didn’t address it like that at first. First they played it off as an annoyance, “These lights are too bright, the tinsel looks stupid on all these light posts, it’s a change in my every day schedule...” Then they ended up getting exactly what they needed: a little push towards what they all had been avoiding for too long. That sincerely scared them – letters, care packages, money outside their doors or inside their homes. Now suddenly, all the local Fun kids had been gone for hours. Something was entirely wrong.
A mob was readying itself outside the mayor’s office. No pitchforks or torches yet, but the furious atmosphere was building. “What the hell is going on?” “Why isn’t he doing anything?” “He’s supposed to be fixing this!” “What do we do?” Several had already gotten past the secretary, were pounding right on the mayor’s locked door.
Chris was shaking behind his desk. Nothing that had happened today made sense. These people had secrets, and someone was making them aware of it. He himself hadn’t known Hannah was a “shopaholic” until today, when she left a confessional note on the table. Except she hadn’t written it.
He had too much to think about himself. Why couldn’t these people just leave him alone? Couldn’t they all just leave each other alone, like they always did? Apparently not, because each of them had a lot to face, and needed someone to blame. Why not the mayor?
The vision of a broken down door and a burning bank was slowly gnawing at him as he sat at his desk. He almost didn’t notice when the people stopped shouting.
Slowly and unsurely, he got up and walked to his door. People were heading downstairs, for some reason. Pulling the hood of his coat over his head, Chris followed, wondering what could have lured the vultures away.
Then he saw. Before he was even outside, he saw through the windows. They were awfully small, which was partially why bankers were so miserable working here. But the flakes were fat and fluffy enough that no one could have missed them. It was, indeed, snowing.
Outside, the people were gazing up, awestruck at the streets. They was so much falling at once, sideways, fat and fluffily. Not only that – the kids were back. It seemed like they’d showed up all at once, frolicking and throwing merciless snowballs at one another. Even a couple teenagers were mixed in there, at least four among the twenty kids. They were all just playing, having fun.
The lights, snow, spirit… The grown-ups couldn’t comprehend it, not even the mayor. One way or another, they all remembered the same thing: It was Christmas Eve.

December 25th,
Dear Diary
Last night was a hit! It was amazing, really. After the people finally went home, they all had Christmas presents waiting for them. Some cheated – mostly the nonlocals or anyone without kids – opening them all to find exactly what they wanted. Some did in fact wait until this morning, much to my relief.
A couple miracles happened after the snow shower. Mr. and Mrs. Ander Tinne and their daughter spoke for the first time in a long time. Just in time for the snow, they were back from joovy with two teenage boys in the back. Scott and Mitch had gone through therapy, found themselves through love, relatable people, and especially music. All they wanted was to come home, see their parents, big sister, and future nephew. Oh, and their brother-in-law who was able to call his family Christmas Eve. Yeah, Naomi was crying half the time, but they were good tears. Grateful, loving tears. “A buddy of mine got shot on the sidelines last month. We went to high school with him, Naomi.” Wes had said on speaker. “How ‘bout we name our boy Quincy?”
Ben walked Jennifer home last night. She was absolutely glowing, hadn’t been that happy in the longest time. They talked like they hadn’t in a while; how surprisingly fun making and wrapping presents was. She did have a moment’s hesitation, walking up to her Grandmother’s house and seeing a second car. Ben held her a while – careful not to let it slip that he loved her just yet – before he let her go face her father. It ended well. Mr. Carrl told his daughter things he should’ve said a long time ago, and they cried together, mourned Tracey and Jamie for the very first time together.
Waiting at home were Ben's parents. Skylar, Jackson and Mary were home, sleeping after a good scolding. Now it was Ben’s turn, but he spoke up. “I love you both, but I don’t want to stay here forever. I know you only want me to be safe, secure, but I can’t stay in Fun. I want a good life, a career as an actor. You know you’ve never seen me at a school play once? I’ve gotten the lead roles for the past three years. I’m good at it, I feel more like myself acting than doing anything else. I can’t manage the diner.” His parents were shell-shocked. They talked on it for hours, not entirely reaching an agreement as they went off to bed, but it was a start. In the morning Tom and Grace woke up and realized they did have presents; that the kids weren’t kidding.
The Ander Junkin kids had a lot to take in before opening presents this Christmas morning. “I don’t know where these came from,” Ferris began steadily, “and I wonder if you’ll tell us or not, but I have to tell you all something. I should’ve told you a while ago, but I didn’t because I know, you guys know we don’t have the money. But now we do – Grandma sent us just enough for Christmas. We’re not using it to cover our debt. I have cancer. I’ll be okay though. First thing tomorrow, I’m going in for treatment.”
You’d say this isn’t the way Christmas normally goes. Why should one guy bother trying to change an entire town? Maybe I didn’t, maybe I did. I made them happy, though. No one before me approached the whole Christmas thing this way, but I’ve been doing it a couple years, and so far its working. I don’t have a big fluffy beard, don’t weigh two hundred pounds, don’t own any reindeer or a sleigh… I’m leaving this town today on that snowmobile, believe it or not. I’m just a guy who moved into a sad town, observed from a distance, with no intention other than making Christmas a little more…Fun.
Would I have done it differently, given the chance? Hell, yes – work anywhere but the bank.
Sincerely, Nick.