December 3rd
Mira dropped a teaspoon of nutmeg into her cookie batter, shrugged, and then dropped another. Hey, it was Christmas – things could not be too nutmeggy at Christmas. ‘Tis the season and all that. Her new recipe for eggnog cookies was going to go down a treat, even if she did say so herself. The only issue had been getting it to taste like eggnog without the rum. Because kids would be eating them, she had to make sure they didn’t taste too much like actual rum-laden egg nog – lest some kids loved them too much and decided to run out and start drinking the real deal. She really didn’t want to be the cause of turning kids onto eggnog. Where would it all end?!
She hummed as she stirred her delicious smelling mixture. It was going to be her first Christmas in Chicago. She grew up in Florida, but a few months ago, she decided it was time for a change.
Her dad, and only family in Florida, died earlier in the year and, well, Florida just wasn’t the same without him. Nothing was the same without him, but she was going to celebrate Christmas and honor him the way he deserved. He had always loved Christmas – they always went all out with lights, decorations, and a snow machine - much to the horror of their neighbors.
But without her dad, it wasn’t the same, so she decided to pack up her bags and go somewhere with real snow for Christmas and some authentic looking Christmas trees. Her small town tried, but palm trees with lights on them – all over them, leaves and all - looked very wrong – phallically wrong. Seriously, anyone who hadn’t seen them should google them – stat.
Mira wanted the real Christmas experience – the one from all the movies, with cold weather, snow angels and getting your tongue stuck to freezing metal objects. So when her sister offered her a room, she jumped at the chance.
Temp was her older step-sister – their mom had left both Temp’s and her dad to ‘find herself.’ Temp – short for Tempest – had been raised by her dad while their flighty mother moved on to Florida and met Mira’s dad. She then left to move to Canada and then Mexico before finally moving to Europe. She was generous enough to send her and Temp postcards sporadically, though she felt no guilt for leaving both her kids when they were barely out of diapers. Their mom was currently trying to find herself in marriage number six to a French artist twenty years younger than her.
Chicago was amazing – snow and cold weather just made the whole holiday. Okay, those things didn’t necessarily sound magical, but to Mira who had spent every holiday in shorts, they were.
Plus she had driven by the house from the Home Alone movies – the first two movies at least – four times, each time squealing at how amazing it was. Home Alone was by far her favorite Christmas movie, and she watched it at least ten times each holiday season.
Temp was the creator and director of a charity that provided help to sick and disabled children. She organized classes and activities for the kids as well as providing them with a place to go after school if their parents were at work. She also arranged fundraisers to provide financial aid to the parents and organized outings – sometimes educational, though mostly fun so rarely educational. Temp really did live up to her name – she was a whirlwind of activity. She was in charge of everything, drummed up volunteers and guilted wealthy people into donating both their time and money into helping out.
Mira – a small time baker – felt pretty useless and lazy in comparison. But she wasn’t allowed to dwell on that for long. Nope, soon enough Temp had her teaching the kids how to bake, she had her baking cookies for fundraisers and lots of other helpful things. Honestly, Mira had never felt so good about herself in her life. Of course, it didn’t hurt that it was practically Christmas. Her favorite time of year.
Mira was also working at a small sandwich shop. She delivered the sandwiches but had also recently tempted the owners into also selling her cupcakes, and they were thrilled at how much everyone loved them.
As Mira was putting the first batch of eggnog cookies into the oven, she heard Temp come into the kitchen, and then she felt her sister’s hands moving down her legs.
“What are you doing, perv?” asked Mira, not taking her attention away from dropping dollops of dough onto a fresh baking sheet.
“Just checking your measurements,” replied Temp in her usual brisk way.
There was no time for beating about the bush in Temp’s world.
“For?” prompted Mira.
“Your costume.”
She said it like it explained everything.
“Costume? We holding a fancy dress gala or something?” quipped Mira.
“No, but we will need a Santa Claus for the Christmas party and you are the perfect size.”
Mira pursed her lips. She was pretty round – okay, plump – and she found that to be unavoidable given all the heavenly treats she baked on a daily basis. But she was hardly large enough to be Santa Claus. Plus, there were one or two other things she didn’t have either.
Mira wiped her hands and turned to face her sibling. Temp had already moved on and was scrolling through her e-mails on her phone.
“Excuse me?”
Temp looked up briefly. “You’re the perfect size for Santa’s elf. Small and petite.”
Mira giggled both in relief and at the compliment. “I’m hardly petite.”
Temp waved her hand. “Small and curvy then if you prefer, you’ll look great in the tights.”
Her sister was the opposite of her, tall, lithe and dark haired with pale skin, while Mira was small, plump, pink skinned with rosy red cheeks and blonde hair. People always assumed they were adopted. Neither of them looked like their mother either.
Mira considered the idea of being an elf. She loved Christmas so pretending she was an elf was surely something she should try at least once. Her dad did so love dressing up as Santa.
“Sure. Why not?”
Temp gave her a wry smile. “I didn’t have to twist your arm at all.”
“Nope, I love Christmas.”
Her sister was nearly disappointed. Apparently, she wasn’t used to people acquiescing quite so quickly. Mira understood that Temp kind of enjoyed arguing and beating people down until they not only agreed with her point of view, they were ready to fight for it.
But Mira wasn’t going to say no to this. She only regretted her dad would never see her dressed as one of Santa’s helpers. It was going to be a wonderful Christmas – she would make her dad proud.