Merry Christmas from the Roses of Prose

We hope everyone is enjoying this year's Christmas stories. Please visit us tomorrow for part one of Diane Burton's contribution, A Miracle in Far Haven. From all of us at the Roses of Prose, we wish you and yours a very merry Christmas!

The Joy Fairy Part 3 by Alicia Dean

Christmas Day

In spite of having slept only a few hours, Persephone woke at six a.m., her adrenaline spiking with excitement. She and Tripp had gotten home late and spent what remained of the night working. She was exhausted, but it was going to be worth it.

Slipping into Brielle’s room, she gently jiggled her shoulder.

Brielle blinked sleepily. “Whatsa matter?”

“I have something to show you. Let’s go.”

Brielle climbed from bed, the ruffled hem of her flannel nightgown bunching around her legs. “You’re here early.” Brielle slipped her small hand into Persephone’s, and a warm rush of belonging, of right, swept through Persephone. Leaving them, whether to return to the statue or not, would be torment.

At the top of the staircase, the flash of multi-colored lights reflected off the wall. Brielle rubbed her eyes. “What’s that?” Pleasure sparked on her face, quickly replaced by anger. “No, no!” Her panicked gaze flew to Persephone, and she jerked her hand away. “Did you do this? You have to get rid of it before Daddy sees!”

“I’ve already seen.” Tripp stepped into the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, his white teeth flashing in a brilliant smile. “And, we both did this.”

“Come on,” Persephone whispered, once more claiming Brielle’s hand.

When they descended, Brielle looked into the living room, and her face lit more brightly than the seven-foot tree. She stared up at Tripp. “Why?”

He touched her head in a gentle caress. “Because I miss Christmas, and I miss seeing you enjoy it.”

“But won’t it make you sad, Daddy?”

He picked her up and settled on the sofa with her in his lap. Persephone remained in the doorway, watching.

“I’ll always be sad your momma is gone, but she loved you, loved Christmas. I think this will make her happy, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Brielle nodded vigorously and pointed to the presents. “How did Santa know we were doing Christmas?”

Persephone joined them, smiling. “Santa knows everything.”

Brielle studied her for a moment, her mouth twisted, as if unsure whether to believe her or not. Then, she shrugged and grinned. “I guess he does.”

Tripp put her on her feet. “What are you waiting for? Dig in.”

Brielle had just opened her last gift when Minerva arrived. Her presence dampened Persephone’s happiness, but at least she’d accomplished her goal. And now, she could do whatever she wanted. She was free. Maybe, even though it was originally a ruse, she could stay on as Brielle’s nanny. The thought of leaving them was agony. She and Tripp may never become romantically involved, but she couldn’t imagine her life without him or Brielle.

“Wonderful!” Minerva gushed as Brielle proudly displayed her gifts. “How about Percy and I go whip up some breakfast?”

“Pancakes?” Brielle lisped through the gap in her teeth.

“Absolutely.” Minerva kissed Brielle’s cheek, then looked at Persephone. “Shall we?”

Once the kitchen door closed, Minerva took Persephone’s hands. Persephone’s instinct was to withdraw, but the woman was Tripp’s mother, Brielle’s grandmother, and she really had seemed to change.

“Thank you so much, my dear. This is more than I could have hoped for. You need never fear me again. You are free.”

“I was thinking…maybe I could stick around.”

Minerva’s dark brows drew together. “Why?”

Percy tried to keep her face neutral, but she could feel a smile stretch her cheeks. “To stay on as Brielle’s nanny.”

Minerva studied her with narrowed eyes. “I know what that expression means. You’re in love with Tripp.”

Persephone’s cheeks heated. “I don’t know him well enough to be in love.  But, I’m crazy about him. And, I think he likes me too. I want to stay, get to know him better. And I can’t bear the thought of leaving Brielle.”

Minerva began shaking her head before Persephone stopped speaking. “No, oh no, that’s not happening. You can’t. Not only might he find out who you really are, who I am, but he doesn’t need to be hurt again.”

“I would never hurt him, never tell him the truth. I’m not saying we’ll become involved. But, Brielle has gotten attached to me. I don’t think another loss right now is good for her.”

Minerva’s mouth contorted into a snarl. “Don’t pretend you’re doing this for her. You want my son for yourself.” Her dark eyes ignited with flames of rage. “He doesn’t need someone like you. He needs a real woman he can have a real relationship with.”

The words stabbed like icicles in her heart. As much as she hated Minerva for saying it, she couldn’t deny the truth.

Minerva gripped her arms and glared into her face. “If you don’t go, I’ll cast you back into the statue. And you will never be free again.”

Persephone jerked away. Tears welled in her throat, and she tried to speak, but failed. Her heart was shattered, her limbs weighted with agony. Either way she lost Tripp and Brielle. All she could manage was a nod.

Minerva’s expression was cold, unsympathetic. “I’ll tell them goodbye for you. It’s best if you just go.”

Persephone wanted to argue that she should say goodbye, but that would just be more difficult, for all of them. And, she might break down and tell Tripp the truth. Which would be disastrous. She’d go back to her cheap motel and figure out what to do for the rest of her life. She had her freedom, but if she could go back into the statue and not feel this ripping, searing pain, she’d gladly reside there for eternity.

~*~

Minerva went into the living room to call Brielle and Tripp in for breakfast. Their laughter thrilled her soul, and she smiled. All was well. 

Tripp looked up then glanced past her, his lovely green eyes dancing with merriment. “Where’s Percy?”

“She had to go,”

The merriment faded from his face. “Oh, I thought she’d spend the day with us. Will she be back later?”

“I’m afraid not. She asked me to tell you that she had another offer. She wished she could give you notice, but she had to take the job now. It’s a great opportunity.”

His shoulders slumped. “What? You’re not serious?” His voice was ragged, sounding unsettlingly close to the way it had after Shana died. “She couldn’t even say goodbye?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of Brielle until you find a replacement.” Minerva tried to sound reassuring, but from the pain on his face, she knew he wasn’t bothered about losing a nanny.

He nodded, but his mouth settled into grimness, and his eyes glittered with a damp sheen. Were those tears? Could he possibly have feelings for Persephone? Surely not. He was much too good for that girl. Even if he did care for her, it didn’t matter. He’d get over her soon enough. He’d only known her a few weeks.

Tripp turned his attention to Brielle and watched her play with her toys, a forced smile fixed on his face.

Minerva touched his shoulder. “Son, are you okay?”

He drew in a shuddering breath and let it out slowly. “I know it’s crazy, but I was starting to…feel something for her. For the first time, I felt like I might…I don’t know, fall in love again.”

A vice squeezed Minerva’s chest. So, it was true. She tried to infuse her voice with just the right amount of encouragement and nonchalance. “Well, dear, of course you will. But that doesn’t mean with Percy. There are a lot of women out there. You’ll meet the right one.”

He gave his head a quick shake. “None of them will make me feel the way Percy did.”

His words punched a hole in Minerva’s heart. Her only goal had been to make her son and granddaughter happy, and now he was crushed. She’d finally ensured they had joy, then immediately stole it from them.

~*~

Percy sat on the park bench near the angel statue where she’d resided for a century. She wasn’t sure why she’d come. Maybe she was a masochist.

An enormous sparkling Christmas fir towered over the frozen pond, but the stars in the velvety night sky were brighter and more beautiful than the lights of the tree. She wished she could appreciate the wonder, the winter scents in the crisp evening air. But not even knowing she was free could lift her spirits. Freedom meant little when you’d lost everything else.

“You’ll freeze to death.”

She jumped to her feet and whirled, her heart climbing to her throat. “Tripp? What are you doing here?”

The winter wind tousled his blond hair, and snowflakes dotted his dark coat like diamonds. “Looking for you.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he paused while her heartbeat boomed loudly in her ears, “I don’t want to lose you.”

She squelched the urge to break out in song, to fling herself into his arms and never let go. Instead, she looked down, studying a snow-dusted acorn at her feet, then drew in a breath and lifted her head. “You’ll find another nanny. I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

He grinned and shot a gaze around the park. “Apparently, you didn’t have to go far.”

Her cheeks warmed. “I do. I was just, taking a breather before I head to the motel to pack.”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “I see. What if I told you I knew the whole truth?”

“About what?”

“About why you left. About why you came here in the first place.”

Fear trickled through her. How had he learned? “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I really need to go.” She turned to hurry away, but his voice stopped her.

“My mother told me everything, Persephone.”

She halted and slowly faced him. “What did you call me?”

He rounded the bench and caught up to her. “Isn’t that your real name? Persephone? The name you used as a Joy Fairy?” He looked up at the statue. “And isn’t that where you’ve spent the last hundred years” He barked out an incredulous laugh. “At first, I didn’t believe her, but she…demonstrated her powers. As crazy as it sounds—fairies, magic, curses—I had to believe.” He shook his head. “To think, I was here so many times, and you were right there…in captivity. And I couldn’t help.”

Her legs weakened. “She really told you. Why?”

“Because, her love for me was stronger than her fear of the consequences. She saw I was miserable and wanted me to know the truth about the woman I’m falling in love with.”

Persephone shook her head. “This is unbelievable. She—“ His words sank in, and she jerked her gaze to his face. “Did you say…falling in love?”

“I did.” He took her hands, tugging her close to his warm body. “I think you feel something for me too. Maybe you could stick around, and we could see where this goes?” A grin lifted the corner of his mouth. “If, that is, the other job can do without you.”

A laugh caught in her throat. Her heart was so full, she couldn’t speak. But she didn’t need to, because his lips touched hers, sparking so much heat she feared it would melt the snow around them, and she kissed him back, finding her Christmas joy in the miracle of his touch.

Please keep reading for Diane Burton's Christmas story - I'm sure it will be fantastic! Thank you for joining us. These Christmas stories are always so much fun, and we love sharing them with you and hopefully bringing you some extra holiday cheer. A very Merry Christmas to you and yours and blessings for 2018.

www.AliciaDean.com

The Joy Fairy Part 2 by Alicia Dean

Persephone took a shaky step away from Tripp. She was afraid he’d touch her, and she’d go to pieces. The room shrank around her, cutting off her breath. Her mind exploded with questions. Did Tripp know? Was he a part of this sick game?

Voices came to her, his and Brielle’s, asking what was wrong, but she couldn’t respond, couldn’t focus on anything other than the evil creature in front of her.

“I’ll help her,” Minerva told Tripp, then grasped Persephone’s arm. “Come, dear, let’s put a cold cloth on your head.” Persephone didn’t protest as Minerva led her into the bathroom. Once behind closed doors, the Sorrow Fairy wet a wash cloth and pressed it to Persephone’s forehead.

Persephone shoved it away. “I don’t need that. What I need are answers. What are you doing here? Is Tripp part of this?”

Minerva cut a look to the closed door. “Keep your voice down. He knows nothing about who we are.” Her tone was level, not menacing as Persephone was accustomed to.

“Then, what’s going on? How did you trick him into thinking you’re his mother?”

“I am his mother.”

“That’s impossible.”

“It was during the Christmas season, thirty-five years ago.” Minerva played with the edges of the wash cloth as she spoke. “I was visiting a hospital—“

Persephone’s lip curled. “No doubt to spread poison to the souls of the weak and sick.”

Minerva grimaced without acknowledging the comment. “I found a baby on the stoop outside the hospital doors. My heart just…melted. One look, and I fell in love. That baby was Tripp. I decided to become human and raise him as my own.”

Joy Fairies and Sorrow Fairies resided at the North Pole year round, but just before Christmas, they traveled to various cities and towns, each set on their particular tasks. They could choose to become human at any time, but once they made that choice, they could never go back.

Persephone arched a questioning brow. “If you are human, how did you release me from the statue?”

“I retained my powers, but only related to acts I’d previously performed. You were a loose end, you might say.”

Was it possible she’d changed? Persephone studied the gracefully aging woman. Her dark hair was streaked with gray, the classically beautiful face now delicately lined at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. She wore designer glasses and an elegant black pantsuit with a red blouse beneath.  She looked…normal, benign, and Persephone  was dismayed to find she almost believed her…and felt sympathy toward the fairy who’d stolen her life. “So, this is why you want me to succeed, because you actually love them?”

Minerva squeezed her eyes shut as if stemming a flow of tears. “They are everything to me. I can’t bear seeing them so unhappy, especially this time of year.”

“What if I tell them the truth?” Even as Persephone said the words, fear shivered over her skin. Minerva held all the control. Centuries ago, a dark wizard who despised Kris Kringle had endowed Sorrow Fairies with capabilities that Joy Fairies didn’t possess. Joy Fairies were skilled at spreading joy, but had no magic powers. The threat was idle…and dangerous.

Minerva’s eyes blazed with anger, and her mouth pinched. When she spoke, her voice bore a malevolent hiss, as if the hounds of hell resided within her. “You would break their hearts, and I would devise a much, much more torturous eternity than you could ever imagine.” She poked Persephone in the chest with a manicured red nail. “Don’t test me.”

Persephone’s limbs went numb, and she shrank from the venom in Minerva’s expression, in her touch. Fear coiled in her belly, and as much as she wanted to be brave, terror stole her ability to do so.

“Everything okay?”  Tripp spoke from the other side of the door, and with his interruption, all evil drained from Minerva. Her face alit with love.

“Fine, darling. We’re just having a little girl talk. We’ll be right out.” Minerva smiled at Persephone, but beneath the smile lurked a threat. She slowly extended her hand. “Feeling better, dear? Shall we join them?”

~*~

Two nights later

Persephone sipped her wine and stared into the crackling fire, mesmerized by its beauty. But like so many other things in the world, the beauty was deceptive. In an instant, the flames could destroy and devour. 

“More wine?”  She started at Tripp’s voice. She’d begun lingering after Brielle’s bedtime, having wine with Tripp and talking until the wee hours. They’d never touched, never shared a kiss, but Persephone often sensed longing in his intense green eyes.

Once the shock of her encounter with Minerva had worn off, Persephone had settled back into her task of restoring his and Brielle’s Christmas joy. But her efforts had been in vain. A deep sadness still hovered over them. Neither was interested in anything holiday or happiness related.

Tripp returned with her wine and handed it to her, then settled on the sofa beside her—much closer than he usually sat. He was so near, she could feel the warmth of his thigh next to hers. Tingles slithered through her stomach. She sipped the Merlot, but could barely swallow over the lump in her throat.

Silence fell between them, broken only by the sounds of the crackling fire and the ticking grandfather clock. She dared a look at him. His gaze roamed over her face, settling on her mouth, and she stopped breathing. The air grew heavy with tension.

Barely aware of her actions, she leaned forward. He did the same. But just before they touched, he groaned and pulled back. Sitting forward, he thumped his wine glass on the table and covered his face with his hands. “I’m sorry.” The words were muffled, but the message was clear. “I can’t do this.”

Disappointment shafted through her, quickly followed by relief. She had no business kissing Tripp Evans. Nothing about her was true or real, and she could not get any more involved with this family than she already was.

She slid to the edge of the sofa and placed her glass next to his. “It’s okay.” Her voice was surprisingly steady. “We were caught up in the moment.”

He removed his hands and lifted his head, staring at her with tormented eyes. “No, I wasn’t caught up in the moment. It wasn’t some impulse. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I met you.”

Her heart slowed, then raced. She wanted to take his beautiful face in her hands, tell him that everything would be okay, that she wanted it too and there was nothing wrong with their feelings. But that would be a lie. “I have, too, but we both know it’s not a good idea.”

“I know.” His voice was anguished.

He stared into the fire, his fingers linked and resting between his knees. He looked so alone, so forlorn, it made her soul ache. He and Brielle deserved a joyous Christmas, and she was determined to make that happen.

Like a lightning bolt from the sky, the realization hit her that the consequences no longer mattered. Curse or no curse, statue or no statue, she’d do whatever it took to make them happy. And then she would leave them, and her heart would be as heavy as the stone that had been her tomb for a century.

~*~

Christmas Eve

Persephone was pleasantly surprised when Brielle asked her to read The Grinch Who Stole Christmas for her bedtime story. It was the first time she’d shown an interest in the holiday. Maybe there was hope.

By the time the story ended, Brielle’s eyes were drifting closed. “I wish we could have Christmas,” she murmured.

Yes. There was hope. “Oh, sweetie. You can have Christmas.”

Brielle blinked her eyes open and frowned. “But it’s too sad without Mommy here.”

“I know.” Persephone swallowed against the hoarseness in her throat. “But your mommy is watching you from Heaven. She loves you very much, and she’ll always be with you.”

Brielle shook her head. “No, she’ll never be with me again.”

“Yes, she will.” Persephone touched a finger to Brielle’s sternum. “Right here, in your heart.”

She scowled skeptically. “Really?”

“Yes, really. When you think about your momma and you feel sad, where do you feel it?”

Brielle touched her chest. “Here.”

“And when you remember the good times, and it makes you happy, where do you feel it?”

“Right here.” She touched her chest again.

“See, that’s your mother’s love, her spirit, always living within you so you’ll never really lose her.”

A tentative, gap-toothed smile emerged. “I’ll never lose her?”

“That’s right. And your mother loved celebrating Christmas with you. Don’t you think she’d be happy if you could start enjoying it again?”

“Maybe.” Brielle yawned. “But I can’t. It makes my daddy too sad.”

“You don’t want Christmas because it makes your daddy sad?”

She nodded, and her small hand brushed her bangs off her forehead. “Every time he hears a Christmas song or sees a tree or stuff like that, he gets really sad and sometimes he cries.”

Brielle’s words pierced Persephone’s heart, and she blinked back tears. No child should carry so much sadness, especially during this magical time of year. Something had to be done.

She waited until Brielle fell asleep, then silently left the room and went downstairs to wait on Tripp.

He came in an hour later, weariness carving grooves in his face. He gave a tentative smile when he saw Persephone. “I’m sorry I’m late. How did it go?”

Persephone crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the sofa. “Not great, actually.”

Concern creased his features. “What’s wrong?”

“I found out why she wants nothing to do with Christmas.”

His mouth tightened. “Yeah, because her mother tragically died on Christmas Eve.”

Persephone shook her head. “That’s not all of it. She doesn’t want anything to do with Christmas because it makes you sad.”

He frowned. “What? What are you talking about?”

Persephone relayed her conversation with Brielle.

“Ah, hell.” Tripp’s shoulders sagged and he seemed to deflate. “Poor thing. I had no idea she was protecting me.”

His face looked so ravaged, so stricken, she wanted to smooth her fingers over his cheeks, kiss his lips, and erase his sorrow. She tightened her fingers into fists to keep them from giving in to the urge.

He dropped onto the sofa, brooding in silence, then lifted his gaze to hers. She was surprised to see a glimmer of happiness.

“If I have my neighbor come sit with Brielle, would you take a little trip with me?” He had the hopeful look of a small boy, with the rugged sexiness that was all man.

Persephone slowly nodded as a rush of love hit her so hard, her knees nearly buckled. She didn’t know what he had in mind, but she was certain that she would go anywhere, anytime, as long as she was with him. 

I hope you enjoyed Part 2...tune in tomorrow for the conclusion.

www.AliciaDean.com

The Joy Fairy Part 1 by Alicia Dean

Two weeks before Christmas

Windport, Colorado

Pulling this off would take a Christmas miracle...

Persephone had two weeks to restore Christmas joy to Tripp Evans and his daughter, or she was doomed for eternity. A century ago, she’d been skilled at restoring Christmas joy. But being entombed in a cold, marble statue for a hundred years had taken its toll.

Come on, you can do this.

She gripped her handbag strap, inhaled deeply, and rang the bell. The door was opened by a man with dark blond hair and sad emerald eyes. Faded jeans and a charcoal gray sweater hung loosely on his frame, as if he’d recently lost weight. He was handsome, but would have been more so were it not for the haggard grief that ravaged his face. His wife had died in a car accident two years ago, but his grief appeared fresh, so intense it was palpable.

“Hi.” Persephone smiled gaily, though it felt out of place in such proximity with this man’s sadness. “I’m Percy Akers, your new nanny.” She’d given herself a human name that sounded a little less old-world.

His gaze moved over her impersonally, as if he were picking out a Christmas tree. She knew her human body was at least semi-attractive. She’d seen herself in a mirror shortly after her release from the statue. She’d retained much of her Joy Fairy appearance—auburn hair, blue eyes, smooth, pale skin—although she was now a solid form rather than the ethereal being she had been. But Tripp Evans didn’t seem to care what she looked like. His expression was impassive as he stepped back and swept his arm out in invitation. “Come in.”

She followed him through a foyer and into the large living room of a house that was quiet as a graveyard. It was mid-December, yet not a hint of Christmas could be found. While Persephone had hated every moment of her captivity, there were worse places to be entombed. Her statue stood in a park near downtown Windport, and during Christmas, the trees were adorned with beautiful lights, ice skaters glided on the frozen pond to Christmas songs, and the air was filled with the aroma of cinnamon, pine, and popcorn. Unlike her former prison, this house held no scents, no ambiance at all. It was clean, beautifully decorated, but still and desolate, as if no humans resided within its walls. A fire burned in the fireplace, although it did nothing to dispel the deep chill that permeated the space.

He gestured to a sofa. “Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?”

She would, actually. Her mouth was as dry as dead pine needles. But his demeanor gave off impatience, conveying that he was only being polite, and if she accepted his offer, he’d be annoyed. “No, thank you.”

He sat in a chair catty-cornered to the sofa and linked his hands, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his thighs. “As I explained to the agency, I’d like you here weekdays at seven a.m., starting tomorrow. You’ll stay until I get home, which will sometimes be after Brielle’s bedtime. On weekends, I’ll need you a few hours occasionally, but I’ll be flexible and work with your schedule. I have a neighbor who can stay with her for short periods of time. I understand you’re free Christmas Eve and Christmas Day?”

Trepidation slid through her soul. She was free, literally, up until Christmas night. And if she was unable to restore their Christmas cheer, she’d never be free again. “That’s correct.”

“Good.” He stood. “Today, I’d like you to hang around a few hours so Brielle can get to know you. I’ll go get her.”

He disappeared into a hallway and she heard footsteps going up a staircase. In moments, he returned, his seven-year-old daughter at his side. She was a pretty child, but didn’t look much like Tripp. She must have taken after her mother with her petite frame and dark coloring. She wore jeans, purple tennis shoes with light-up soles, and a sweatshirt festooned with cartoon puppies. Her hair hung in crooked braids, and Persephone wondered if she or her father was the culprit.

Tripp rested his hand on Brielle’s shoulder. “This is your new nanny, Percy.”

Brielle studied Persephone with serious, dark eyes.  

Persephone stood and smiled. “Hello, Brielle. Nice to meet you. I hope we’ll become good friends.”

“Nice to meet you.” The words were low, and her mouth opened just enough to show a gap where her two front teeth used to be.

“Brielle,” Tripp said, “please take Percy up and show her your room. She’ll be staying until dinner.”

Without speaking, Brielle turned toward the hallway, and Persephone slung her bag over her shoulder and followed the child upstairs. They entered a room decked out in everything Barbie. Barbie comforter, Barbie curtains, Barbie posters, even a small canvas Barbie chair pulled up to a pink, surprisingly non-Barbie desk.

“Your room is awesome. So, tell me, do you like Barbie?” Persephone grinned, but her joke didn’t earn a returning grin. “What kind of games do you like to play? Since you’re out of school for the holiday, we can have all kinds of fun.”

Brielle shrugged. “Any kind. I like to play out in the snow.”

“Fantastic! We’ll build a snowman together. And we’ll stay out until our fingers and toes are about to freeze off, then we’ll come inside and make hot chocolate. We’ll sit by the fire and read. Do you like to read?”

She nodded, her small face impassive.

“Me too. I brought you a few books.” Persephone reached into her bag and pulled out Charlotte’s Web and The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.

“Thank you.” Without bothering to look at them, Brielle took the books and tossed them behind her onto a dresser.

“You’re welcome.” A stilted silence fell while Brielle stood with her arms crossed and Persephone struggled for something to say. “Hey, how about we go pick out a tree tomorrow? We can decorate it together.”

Brielle’s expression morphed from solemn to angry. “I don’t want a tree. No tree.”

“Okay, no problem. I just thought it would make things a little more festive.” Persephone’s task was to bring Christmas joy to the child. She didn’t want to push, but she had to try. “Don’t you want Santa to have a place to put presents?”

Brielle clenched her tiny fists and stomped her foot. “I don’t want a tree, don’t want presents!”

Persephone flinched at her vehemence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Okay, no tree. No gifts. How about if we play a game or color or something?”

Brielle hesitated just a moment, then went to a pink armoire and opened it, retrieving coloring books and crayons. Persephone sat on the bed next to her, stealing glances at Brielle as they colored their respective pages. The little girl was intent, focused, but didn’t exhibit an ounce of enjoyment. And when Persephone left a few hours later, her mood had remained the same. No happiness, no interest in Christmas, or anything whatsoever.

This job was going to be harder than she’d anticipated. She gritted her teeth in anger. Joy Fairies weren’t supposed to hate, but she couldn’t help it. She loathed the Sorrow Fairy who’d cast Persephone’s soul into the statue. Persephone wasn’t sure why the evil fairy was interested in bringing joy to the Evans, but she didn’t care. She was just grateful for the opportunity—one she never thought she’d get. And she was not going to fail.

~*~

One week later

Tripp slid grilled cheese sandwiches onto a plate. “Brielle,” he leaned out the kitchen door and shouted, “lunch is ready.”

His mother sat at the table drinking coffee, frowning at the sandwiches. “I wish you’d let me cook you a proper meal.”

“I like doing for Brielle, and our new nanny has been feeding us well. Brielle will survive without a five-course feast at every meal.”

His mother harrumphed, but a small smile appeared before she covered it by taking a sip of coffee. He knew she loved to mother-hen him, and it amused her when he challenged her attempts to do so.

Brielle’s footsteps pounded down the stairs moments before she entered the kitchen. “Smells like grilled cheese.”

“You got it, punkin. And power sticks and a fruit cup.” His wife, Shana, had the clever idea of calling carrots, celery, and broccoli ‘power sticks’ instead of vegetables to make them more enticing. She had a knack for creating miracles out of the simplest things. God, he missed her so much.

“Hey,” his mother said to Brielle, “Where’s Grandmama’s hug?”

Brielle launched into her arms, and they hugged tightly before Brielle took a seat at the table. She bit into her sandwich and chewed, waiting until she swallowed to say, “Is Percy coming today?”

The light shining in Brielle’s eyes thrilled him. In a short time, Percy had worked her way into his daughter’s heart, and his own. They barely knew her, but her vitality and kindness had brought light into their dim world. He liked her smile and her gentle voice when she spoke to Brielle. And, it wasn’t just for Brielle’s sake that he was pleased she was here. For the first time since he lost his wife, he was attracted to another woman, which made him feel both guilty and elated.

“She’ll be here soon. I’m going to the restaurant for a little while and Grandmama has shopping to do, so Percy will stay with you.” He hated working on a Saturday. But owning your own business sometimes meant you had to be there, even when you didn’t want to be.

Brielle was just finishing her lunch when the doorbell rang. “That’s Percy! I’ll get it!” She scrambled from the table without waiting for permission and ran to the door.

His mother chuckled. “This Percy must be pretty special.”

Tripp didn’t want his busybody mother knowing just how special she was becoming to them, so he shrugged casually. “She’s good with Brielle.”

Moments later, Percy and Brielle appeared in the kitchen doorway. Percy wore a soft pink sweater and curve-hugging faded blue jeans. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and her blue eyes shimmered like sapphires. Tripp’s heart lifted, taking him by surprise. How could he be developing feelings for this woman, when he wasn’t finished grieving his wife?

He smiled at Percy, and her returning smile settled in his chest like a warm slug of brandy. “Percy, I’d like you to meet my mother, Minerva.”

His mother stood and extended her hand. “So lovely to meet you, dear. I’m delighted that you’re looking after my granddaughter.”

The beginnings of a smile lifted the corners of Percy’s mouth, but faded abruptly. The color drained from her lovely face. For a moment, he thought she was going to faint, and he rushed to her side. “Percy, are you okay?”

She turned panic-stricken eyes to him. He had no idea what was wrong, but he would have moved mountains and slayed monsters to erase the fear from her face.

I hope you enjoyed Part 1 of my story. Tune in tomorrow for Part 2.

www.AliciaDean.com

Where Love Blooms ~ Part Three by Jannine Gallant

Dahlia stood in front of the mirror with the blow dryer blasting on high and wondered if her hair would ever get dry. Holding the unwieldy blower in one hand, she applied eyeshadow with the other. She wasn’t brave enough to attempt mascara. The way her luck was going today, she’d blind herself. Deciding she could live with slightly damp hair, she turned off the machine and set it on the counter.

While she finished her eye-makeup, she pictured her savior from the snowbank stepping out of the shower and drying off as he got ready for his date. While her imagination was working overtime, she added six-pack abs and a sprinkling of dark, silky chest hair. Her reflection took on a distinctly pink hue. Despite the heavy jacket, she’d bet money he had those abs she’d dreamed up. Not that I’ll ever get the chance to find out if I’m right.

With a sigh, she pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, quickly braided one section, and wrapped it around the band, then pinned it in place. The rest of her mane cascaded down her bare back past her bra strap. Simple but elegant was the look she hoped to achieve since she didn’t have time for fancy. She added long, teardrop earrings then headed into her closet. Her go-to black cocktail dress could be dressed up or down. She added strappy black heels guaranteed to make her feet hurt and adjusted the neckline for an off the shoulder look.

Pausing to glance in the mirror, she made a face. Not bad considering the time crunch. At least she wouldn’t embarrass her date. She scooped up a soft white wrap she’d dropped on her bed and snapped off the bedroom light just as a knock sounded at the front door. Score one for being ready on time. She fist-pumped the air.

At least he hadn’t caught her still in her underwear.

She hurried toward the entry and carefully lifted the boutonnière she’d made earlier in the day off the table where she’d left it. Too late to change my mind about this date now. Pausing to take a steadying breath, she threw open the door.

The man waiting on the other side wore a smoke-gray suit that stretched across broad shoulders. Dark hair brushed his collar, and warm brown eyes stared at her from a freshly shaven face. Her jaw sagged a little.

“What are you doing here?” she blurted. “Did you follow me home?”

The warmth faded. “Do I look like a stalker?”

“No, you look like...” She swallowed the words on her tongue…a wet dream. “Never mind.” Her cheeks heated. “I’m a little confused. I was expecting my blind date.”

The twinkle in the chocolatey brown depths returned. “And I’m here to pick up mine for the Christmas Eve party.”

She glanced down at the familiar orchid corsage he held as her heartrate quickened. “I guess that’s not for your girlfriend, after all.”

“Not yet.” His smile returned. “We’ll see how the evening goes.”

Her knees weakened. “It looks like my luck has finally changed, but there’s one thing I don’t understand.”

“What’s that?”

Stepping back, she waved him inside. “Why the heck would you need a blind date? You’re…” She gave him a slow perusal. “Okay, I’ll just say it…extremely hot. Any single woman in town would probably pay to date you.”

He grinned as he shut the door behind him. “I haven’t met any of them yet.” He reached for her hand. “You’re so pretty, you take my breath away. I could ask the same question. Why would you agree to a blind date?”

She shrugged. “After the last guy I went out with mentioned he still lives with his practically ex-wife, I decided to take a break from dating. I only agreed to go tonight because Joanie wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She licked suddenly dry lips. “I’ll have to thank her for her persistence.”

“I doubted Rob when he told me you were a knock-out. I should have had more faith in my cousin.”

Dahlia let out a long breath as anticipation filled her. “I guess we should go to the party.”

“Not until I put this on you.” He slid the band holding the flowers over her wrist. “If I hadn’t stopped to get a corsage, I’d still be nervous right now. As it is, I feel like we’re old friends. We’ve helped each other out, and I already know plenty about you.”

Stepping closer, she pinned the single white rosebud accented with a fern frond to his lapel and glanced up. “What, exactly, after being acquainted for a couple of hours, do you think you know about me?”

“I know you have a kind heart and can’t resist a person in need.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“Okay, I know you can swear like a sailor.”

She felt another blush creeping up her neck. “I only swear when I’ve exhausted all my other options.”

“Getting stuck in a snowbank certainly qualifies.”

“I thought so.”

“I also know you have a delicate touch.” He stroked the soft orchid petal at her wrist then closed his hand over her fingers.”

“I’ve learned a few things about you, too. I know you aren’t afraid to go after what you want. You didn’t let the closed sign stop you.” She broke off when he tightened his hold on her.

“Just so you know, I planned to come by the flower shop again after Christmas.”

She looked into his eyes. “You did?”

He nodded. “I didn’t think hitting on you when I was buying flowers for another woman was a good idea. Plus, you had a date.”

“I certainly do.”

“The best blind date ever. A Christmas miracle.” He touched her cheek. “Dahlia?”

“What?” Her voice was breathless.

“Do I have to wait until this date is over to kiss you?”

Her heart stopped then surged ahead like a galloping horse. “So far, our relationship has been pretty unconventional, so I don’t think we need to follow any hard, fast rules.”

“Thank God, because I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since I saw you standing in your store, surrounded by flowers, looking even more beautiful than all the roses on your Christmas tree.” He bent closer and touched her lips with his.

Dahlia raised a hand to the back of his neck as he deepened the contact. He smelled fresh, like the forest, and tasted even better. When he finally pulled back, she grabbed the entry table to steady herself. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow. Thank you for that.”

“Thank you.” She stared into his eyes and saw promises reflected there. “Merry Christmas, Zane.”

“Merry Christmas, Dahlia.”

* * * *

I hope you all enjoyed WHERE LOVE BLOOMS. For more information about my books, visit my WEBSITE. Please visit us tomorrow for part one of Christine DePetrillo's story, GINGERBREAD HEARTS!