The Winter of Candy Canes (A Sweet Seasons Novel) (5 page)

Candace woke to the smell of turkey. She got up and ran downstairs in her pajamas just in time to see her father basting the bird.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said.

“It smells great!”

“It's coming along.”

Her dad always cooked on holidays. He had been dubbed the “Grand Master of Thanksgiving” by friends and neighbors who had partaken of his Thanksgiving feasts.

On the back of the stove rose several loaves of yeast bread, and a bag of potatoes sat on the counter waiting to be peeled and chopped. Candace's stomach growled in anticipation.

“I need help with the table,” her mom said as she passed by with linens in her arms.

“Just give me five minutes,” Candace said as she dashed back upstairs.

Five minutes later she was back downstairs dressed in jeans and a tank top. She helped her mom set “the table” which was technically five tables: the dining table, the kitchen table, and three card tables all lined up end to end and stretching from the dining room through the living room.

They draped the tables with gold tablecloths before dragging folding chairs out of the garage to supplement the ten chairs that were normally around the dining room table. Candace picked up the piano bench and moved it to the foot of the table where two plates were squeezed together.

“Somehow I have a feeling you'll be volunteering to share the piano bench this year,” her mom said with a smile.

“Well, Kurt and I could sit there,” Candace said, feigning indifference, “if you wanted.”

Once the chairs were arranged, they got out the china and silverware and laid out the place settings. As a final touch Candace folded orange and brown linen napkins for each place.

“Looks great!” her dad said as her mom set the cornucopia centerpiece in the middle of it all.

“Thanks,” her mom said, surveying the layout. “Some day I'll have a dining room table long enough to seat all our guests,” she sighed.

“Whoa! Time out. Last year all you wanted was matching chairs. Now you want a new table?” her dad teased.

“The longer I go with what I've got, the more I'm going to want,” she said.

Candace smiled. They had been discussing the state of the seating arrangements every Thanksgiving for as long as she could remember.

“Well, I figure I just have to hold out a couple more years,” her dad said. “Then Candace will be married and she can host Thanksgiving at her house. I'll be out of the woods on the whole table and chairs thing.”

“What?” Candace asked, blushing uncontrollably.

“Candace is too young to get married,” her mother said.

“I said in a couple of years,” her father answered. “I don't expect Candace to get married today.”

“Um, Candace is in the room,” she said, trying to get her parents' attention.

“Yes, you are, honey,” her mom said.

“So, I'm betting I know who thinks she's sharing the piano bench with a certain young man,” her father said.

“Kurt and I are going to sit on the piano bench,” Candace said.

“I remember when your mom and I sat on the piano bench together at her parents' house one Thanksgiving. You remember that, sweetheart?”

“No,” her mom said, but the blush creeping across her cheekbones gave her away.

Candace bit back a giggle as she watched her dad make googly eyes at her mom. Her parents were the only ones she knew who could still act like teenagers when the mood took them. She just hoped she and her husband could be like that when they were older.
But not for a long time … a
very
long time. Years even
.

Her dad turned his attention back to the table. “You know, I don't much like the color brown. Why don't we take off those napkins and put the green ones out?”

“Because green is not a Thanksgiving color,” her mom said, shaking her head.

“Sure it is. Why, there are leaves on the tree that are still that color.”

“The tree in the yard is green all year round,” her mom pointed out.

“See? And orange — I really don't like orange. Red is a Thanksgiving color. Lots of leaves on the ground under other trees are red.”

“So, let me get this straight. You want to take off the orange and brown and have the table be gold, red, and green?”

“Yes, why not?”

“Because those are Christmas colors,” her mom said.

“Well, then let's have Christmas instead. I think I found where you hid my presents.”

Candace doubled over laughing as her mom glared and wagged a finger at him. A timer went off in the kitchen, and he used it as an excuse to make his exit.

“Every year it's the same thing. We haven't even carved the Thanksgiving turkey, and he's trying to declare Christmas,” her mom said.

“You love it, admit it,” Candace said.

Her mom smiled. “Never where he could hear me.”

By the time the first guests arrived, the house was spotless, the turkey was cooling, and Candace was dressed in black slacks and an emerald green blouse. Her dad had hugged her, tousled her red hair, and thanked her for bringing Christmas to the party even if her mom wouldn't.

Soon relatives and friends poured into the house bringing with them more sparkling cider than they could all drink in a week. Candace ended up with the job of grabbing the bottles at the door and stacking them in the garage to keep cool once they ran out of room in the refrigerator.

Each time the doorbell rang, her heart skipped a beat, because she thought it was Kurt. The more time that passed before his arrival, the more nervous she became.

The doorbell rang again as she was leaving the garage. “I'll get it!” she yelled, a little louder than she had intended.

She threw open the door and sagged in relief against it when she saw Kurt. He smiled at her nervously, and she suppressed the urge to giggle. He was wearing black Dockers and a green button-down shirt.

“Looks like I'm conforming to the dress code,” he said with a tight smile.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Then, aware that others were watching, she quickly pulled away and stepped aside to let him enter.

“So that's the young man we've been hearing about,” one of her mom's coworkers said, loud enough for Candace to hear.

“How sweet you two look with your matching outfits,” her great-aunt Bernice exclaimed.

“Thank you, it was an accident,” Candace said, vaguely feeling the need to explain.

“Then that means you're soul mates,” one of her mom's other coworkers, the one Candace thought of as Hippie Freak, said with a dreamy-eyed expression.

The doorbell rang again, and Candace found herself in charge of four more bottles of sparkling cider — grape this time. She hurried them into the garage, feeling guilty about leaving Kurt alone for even a minute. She had just decided to take Kurt on a tour of the house when her mom called everyone to attention.

“Now that we're all here, you can go ahead and find a seat at the table,” she said.

Candace grabbed Kurt's hand and dragged him over to the piano bench.

“What is this? The equivalent of the kid's table?” he joked as he tried to get his long legs under the table.

“No, dear. That's the lovers' bench,” Bernice said, patting Kurt's hand as she sat down nearby.

“Meaning what, exactly?”

“Nothing,” Candace said.

Bernice didn't take the hint. “It's the bench you sit on when you're in love. That piano bench has been in the family for generations, and every couple that shares a holiday meal sitting there is destined to get married.”

“Destined?” Candace asked. This was the first she had heard of this particular family legend. She just wanted to sit really close to Kurt and feel like they were sharing something special.

“Married?” Kurt asked.

“Yessiree. Dozens. My late husband and I had Thanksgiving dinner sitting on that very piano bench in 1937.”

“Bernice, you know that's just a silly superstition,” Candace's mom called from halfway down the table.

“I believe it's true. Maybe the tree that gave its life for that piano was the reincarnation of an old village shaman or even a matchmaker,” Hippie Freak chimed in.

“Reincarnation? Are you serious?” Kurt asked, turning to look at Candace.

“She is, but not me. I don't believe in reincarnation. Not at all. I believe you get one chance in this life to live, love, and accept Jesus Christ.” Candace couldn't stop the words from tumbling out, and her voice got higher until she ended and realized that the entire room had gone quiet.

“And on that note,” her dad said, “let's pray.”

Everyone around the table reached out for the hands of the people on either side, and Candace grabbed Kurt's as she bowed her head and closed her eyes. She had held his hand dozens of times before, but it had never felt so awkward.

“Bless the cook and the cookin'. We're here to eat and not for lookin'. Amen.”

There was laughter around the table, which helped ease the tension. Candace glanced up. Normally, her mom would have chastised her dad for teasing like that about grace, but even she was smiling.

“Seriously, Father God,” her dad continued, “we thank you for these and all of life's blessings. We ask that you bless this food that it might be nourishing to our bodies. Amen.”

“Amen,” everyone chorused.

“Okay, grab the dish in front of you and pass to your left,” her mom instructed.

“So, young man, what do you plan on doing with the rest of your life?” Bernice asked, leaning in close to Kurt.

Kurt's phone rang.

Saved by the bell
, Candace thought.

He pulled his cell out of his pocket and looked at the display. “It's my roommate. I gotta take this.” He extricated himself from the table, banging his knee on one of the legs and causing everyone's water glasses to slosh over. “Sorry.”

He walked into the kitchen, and Candace could hear him talking.

“No, trust me, not a problem.”

“That's right.”

“I'll tell you later.”

“See you in ten.”

Her heart sank, and a moment later he walked back into the room, his face grim.

“Hey, Candace,” he said, crouching down next to her. “My roommate's car broke down. I gotta go help him. I'm sorry.”

“That's okay,” she said. Maybe it was better this way. Dinner clearly had not been going well.

“You're the best,” he said. He kissed her on the cheek before standing up. “It was nice meeting everyone. Sorry I gotta run,” he said with a wave.

Candace started to stand to let him out, but he was already at the door. He gave her a little wave and then was gone. Someone handed her the bowl of mashed potatoes, and she piled some on her plate.

“Such a nice young man … shame he had to leave,” Bernice said.

“Yeah,” Candace said as she passed her the potatoes. “He didn't even get to eat anything.”

The only good thing about sitting alone on the piano bench was that she had a lot more elbow room than anyone else at the table. The rest of dinner went well. Her father had outdone himself, as usual.

After dinner everyone scattered to various parts of the house to visit and entertain themselves before dessert. Candace found herself in the kitchen, helping her mother load the dishwasher and put away the leftovers.

“I'm sorry Kurt had to leave,” she said.

“Thanks,” Candace replied with a sigh. “Not exactly the Thanksgiving I was picturing.”

“You know, things rarely turn out like we'd want them to, but sometimes they can be wonderful in the most unexpected ways,” her mother said.

“Are we talking about Thanksgiving or life?”

“Both,” her mom said with a laugh. “But today, mostly Thanksgiving.”

They finished up and joined the guests. A few minutes later the doorbell rang.

Candace jumped to her feet. Maybe Kurt was finished helping out his roommate and decided to come back. She opened the door to see a familiar figure, but it wasn't Kurt.

“Josh, what are you doing here?” she asked.

“Hey, I hope it's cool. The folks and I are done eating, and I thought I'd see if you wanted to catch a movie later. I tried your cell, but you weren't picking up. I decided to swing by, but it looks like you're pretty busy,” he said with a sheepish grin. He ran a tan hand through his sandy hair.

“I'd love to go a little later. You want to come in?”

“If it's no trouble.”

Candace's mom came over. “Hi, Josh, you know you're always welcome here.”

“Thanks,” he said, coming inside.

“You're just in time for pie too,” she said. “I hope you've got room.”

“There's always room for dessert,” he answered.

“So, your family's already done for the day?” Candace asked.

“Yeah. Thanksgiving is the one holiday that's seriously low-key at our place. It's been that way ever since the ‘Flaming Turkey Incident.’”

“That doesn't sound good.”

“It wasn't. That sucker nearly burned down the house.”

Candace laughed just thinking about it.

“And that wasn't the worst part.”

“Oh no!”

“Oh yeah. Mom made us eat it.”

“Yuck!”

“It was completely charcoal. It was so nasty.”

“Next year you guys will have to come here then.”

“It's a plan.”

“Dessert time,” Candace's mom called, and everyone reassembled at the table.

“You can sit next to Candace,” her mom said, indicating the piano bench to Josh.

“Cool. A seat of honor.”

Candace smiled as she squeezed next to Josh on the bench. Aunt Bernice looked at him in confusion for a moment and then said, “You're not the boy who was here earlier.”

“No, ma'am, I just got here. My name's Josh. I'm one of Candy — Candace's friends,” he said.

“Good to meet you,” she said brightly.

Pie was passed out, and, as Josh and Candace ate the holiday dessert, she couldn't stop thinking about his mom and the flaming turkey. Her mom was right. Life didn't always turn out how you expected, and it wasn't the first time Josh had rescued a bad day for her. She smiled as she ate the pie.

It was still dark Friday morning when Candace arrived at the park. Tired referees stumbled into one another as they all assembled in the Holiday Zone. She and her mom had carpooled, and her mom patted her on the shoulder before heading for her booth.

Sue arrived and stood by Candace. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“Tell me about it. I'm not sure how I'm going to get through the day. How was your Thanksgiving?”

Sue made a face. “I tried cooking a turkey, and it was a total disaster.”

“Did you set it on fire?” Candace asked.

“No.”

“Then it couldn't have been a
total
disaster.”

Sue laughed. “That's true. I didn't set it on fire, it wasn't raw, and no one got food poisoning.”

“Then it sounds like you did quite well.” Candace laughed. She spotted Josh a few feet away and waved as he made his way toward them.

A ripple ran through the crowd, and Candace turned to see John Hanson, the owner of the park, standing on top of a box so that everyone could see him.

“He seems like such a nice guy,” Sue said.

“He is. Really nice,” Candace said, thinking about her previous meetings with him. “Hey, did you know that he's a Christian?”

“Sure. It's all over in his biography. I read it last year. I wasn't surprised.”

“Many great theme-park founders, like Walt Disney and Walter Knott, were Christians,” Josh commented, appearing beside her.

Candace nodded. She was going to have to get that book.

John Hanson raised his hand, and the crowd fell quiet.

“Well, it's Christmastime again. That means long hours, huge crowds, and eager children. We can make it through. I want you to enjoy the season. Christmas is a special time of the year, and each and every one of you has the opportunity to make it even more special for our players.

“Of course, I want it to be special for you too, which is why we have the annual Zone Christmas party. This year it will be on December twenty-two. Bring your family members for a great time.

“And, what would a party be at The Zone without a little friendly competition?” he asked, pausing to let referees shout and clap their hands.

“This year we have something a little different planned. Hidden somewhere in The Zone, somewhere only a referee can get to, is a golden candy cane. Whoever finds it will be the guest of honor at the Christmas party and will win prizes, gift certificates, and this life-size gingerbread house!” He waved his hand toward the gingerbread house in the middle of the maze.

A roar of approval went up from the gathered referees.

“So good luck, enjoy the season, and happy hunting.”

“Wow! It's like the whole Willy-Wonka-golden-ticket thing,” Sue said after the noise had died down and referees not working in the Holiday Zone began to disperse.

“Yeah, except there's only one candy cane,” Josh said.

Candace could see Becca a little ways away, hopping from foot to foot in excitement.

“We better watch out for Becca,” Candace said, mimicking something she had been told before she knew the other girl.

“I bet you Becca finds the golden candy cane,” Josh said, following the direction of her stare.

“That's a bet I'm not taking. Of course Becca will be able to ferret out her key to sugar,” Candace said.

“Gib looks worried,” Josh said, referencing one of Becca's co-workers from the Muffin Mansion.

“He should be. We all should be,” Sue said.

Martha, one of the supervisors, hopped up onto the box vacated by John, and someone handed her a bullhorn. “Okay, elves with me; everyone else scatter!”

“That's our cue,” Sue said. “See you later.”

As referees streamed out of the area, Candace saw John Hanson going booth to booth to shake hands with the various vendors. He stopped in front of her mom's booth. One of them must have said something funny, because they both burst out laughing.

Five minutes later Candace stood with the other elves in a cluster around Martha.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, this is the big leagues. Elf duty is difficult, challenging, and one of the most visible jobs that a referee can do. You'll be pushed to your limit daily. I need you to give one hundred percent to this job. Are you with me?”

Candace bobbed her head along with the others.

“Good. Now here's how it works. You'll be broken into four groups. Group A will handle line control. Those of you with previous line experience will fall into that category. Group B will get kids onto Santa's lap and off. Those with ride-loading experience will fall into this group. Group C will handle the prize disbursements. Those of you with vending experience will fall into this group. Group D will handle the photography merchandising. Those of you with store experience will fall into this group. Is there any one unaccounted for? No? Good.

“Group A, report to the front of the queuing area. Group B, congregate around Santa's chair. Group D to the merchandise booth. Group C with me.”

Candace, Lisa, and half a dozen others followed Martha to the area just to the left of Santa's chair.

“Okay. During slow hours, only one of you will be working at a time, and you'll be on this side,” Martha explained. “When it gets busy there'll be two of you, one on each side. Santa and the elves handling the kids are on the red carpet areas. You stay on the green carpet areas.”

Candace looked down and saw where the carpet changed colors. That shouldn't be too difficult.

“This is very important,” Martha stressed. “You stay on the green carpet. It's not your job to guard Santa. Group B is doing that. You're Group C. It's your job to guard the candy and the presents.”

“Don't you mean distribute them?” one elf asked.

“I said
guard
, and I mean
guard
,” Martha said with a cold stare. “You will also distribute, but don't forget to
guard
.”

She picked up a basket filled with candy canes. “Every person who walks through here gets a candy cane — kids, teens, parents, whoever. Now, you will see here, behind the ropes, stacks of presents.”

Candace looked, and, sure enough, there were dozens of presents wrapped in gold, silver, or candy cane paper. She didn't remember seeing anything like that when she was a kid.

“Now, presents are to be distributed sparingly — one or two an hour. Use your best judgment on who to give them to. Gold paper is a girl's gift, and silver paper is a boy's gift. Candy cane paper is generic. Gold girl, silver boy, candy generic. Got it?”

Candace nodded along with the others.

“Do not let the children or their parents bully, beg, or bribe you into giving out a present. If you have a problem, the red panic buttons are here on the underside of the candy-cane-striped rail behind you.”

Candace craned her head to see the button. If her experiences at The Zone had taught her anything, it was that she was going to have to use that button at least once, and she wanted to be prepared for it.

“The last part of your job is to make sure that once everyone has received a candy cane, they keep moving down the ramp toward the merchandise booths. Keep the flow going. Otherwise the whole process comes to a halt, and kids have to wait three times as long to see Santa.

“So, today we have four people working from eight to four and four more working from four to midnight. Those of you who will be working tonight, get out of here and get some rest.”

Candace, Lisa, and two other elves she didn't know were left.

“Okay, you four, because today is going to be a rough day, you're going to take turns. One hour here, then one hour walking around the park reminding kids to come see Santa. Got it? Okay. Lisa and Candace will take the first shift. First, though, we're going to go through a practice run. Lisa and Candace up; Laura and Chrissy on deck.”

Lisa seemed rooted to her spot, so Candace crossed over to the other side of the stage area and took her place on the green carpet. She picked up the basket of candy canes and checked out the gift section.

Two loader elves moved onto the red carpet. Around the entire area she saw other elves taking up position. Then the man himself, Santa Claus, appeared. He majestically walked onto the stage and seated himself on his thronelike chair.

“Ready? Go!” Martha shouted, once more using the bullhorn.

Candace watched as excess elves, a few other referees, and some of the vendors were loaded into the queue area. They zigzagged through the maze of ropes until they came to a stop at the end of the line. An elf led one of the vendors by the hand
over to Santa, and the vendor gingerly sat down on Santa's lap, laughing.

“What do you want for Christmas?” Santa asked.

“A Barbie doll … for my daughter,” the vendor hastened to add.

“Have you and she been good girls?”

“Yes.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

The second elf loader helped her off Santa's lap and sent her toward Lisa, while the first elf loader escorted another person up to Santa.

He asked the same questions, and then the vendor was headed Candace's way. She smiled, pulled a candy cane out of her basket, and handed it to the woman. “Have a Merry Christmas,” she said.

“Thank you,” the woman answered. “I'm Jewish, though.”

“Happy Hanukkah,” Candace said without missing a beat and remembering to smile.

They cycled through three more people each before Candace stepped aside to let Chrissy handle the distribution.

After about five more minutes, Martha shouted, “Nice work everyone. Remember, we're cycling in one-hour shifts today. Starters take your places.”

“Good luck,” Chrissy said as she handed the candy cane basket off to Candace.

“Thanks.”

The extra elves and referees went about their business, and silence settled down on the area. Candace clutched her stomach, feeling nervous and a little sick as she battled the butterflies and waited for the opening of the park. She glanced over at Santa. He sat in his chair, appearing majestic and calm. For a moment she thought about asking him what she should get Kurt for Christmas. If anyone would know …

She shook her head, laughing at herself. She was here to help Santa, not the other way around.

“Gates are open!” someone shouted.

Candace fidgeted with the handle of her basket. Any moment now it would begin.

“Incoming!”

A dozen kids with parents in tow ran through the ropes, shouting for Santa.

The first kid ran toward Lisa after shouting his requests to Santa at the top of his lungs. The next one was slightly more restrained, and Candace handed both him and his father a candy cane as they exited.

“I get to add sugar to this?” the father asked with a groan.

Candace just shrugged and smiled. “Merry Christmas.”

The next dozen people didn't say a word to her; they just took the candy canes and dashed off.

A little girl climbed up onto Santa's knee, looked at him, and burst into tears. An elf picked her back up and gave her to her mother who apologetically herded the little girl toward Candace.

Candace felt so bad for her. She had probably been so excited to see Santa. Candace glanced at Santa and was surprised to see him staring at her. He gave a little nod.

“I didn't get to tell Santa what I want,” the little girl sobbed.

Candace reached behind her and picked up a brightly colored package.
Gold for girl
, she mentally recited.

She bent down and handed the package to the little girl. “It's okay, honey, Santa knows what you want,” she said.

“Thank you!” the girl said, clutching the present.

“Merry Christmas,” Candace said, handing the mother a candy cane.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” the mom said with an appreciative smile. “Come on, let's go.”

The next hour flew by. When Chrissy relieved her, Candace was a little sad to leave her post. Candace left, though, and made a beeline for her mom's cart.

“I got a glimpse of you at work, and you looked great,” her mom said.

“Thanks. I saw you laughing earlier with Mr. Hanson.”

“Yes. I told him I was Candace's mother. He said he knew exactly who I was talking about, and we had a laugh. He's a very nice man and had some good things to say about you.”

“I'm glad,” Candace said. “Well, I gotta go make sure kids remember to come see Santa.”

“Like they'd forget,” her mom teased.

“Good luck with the selling,” Candace said before taking off.

She spent the next hour walking around telling every kid she saw where to find Santa in the Holiday Zone. The best part was seeing the little crying girl again, this time clutching a doll.

“Thank you, Elf Candy!” the little girl shouted, waving.

Candace waved back.

“More like Eye Candy,” Kurt joked.

Candace jumped. She hadn't seen Kurt walk up beside her. For some reason his comment irritated her.

“Hey,” she said.

“Look, sorry I had to bail.”

“No big. Is your roommate okay?”

“Yeah. We got his car fixed.”

“Cool. Well, I gotta get back,” Candace said.

“See you later.”

“Yeah.”

Candace walked away. She hadn't realized until that minute that she was mad at Kurt. She wasn't angry that he'd gone to help a friend. She was angry that he hadn't come back later or at least called. He could have come to the movies with her and Josh. She sighed. Why did romance have to be so complicated?

She made it back to her post only to find Lisa there looking miserable.

“What's going on?” she asked her.

“Laura quit.”

“After an hour?” Candace asked incredulously.

“No. After five minutes.”

“What happened?”

“You don't want to know. I wish I didn't know.”

“Where's Chrissy?”

“When Laura quit, they moved her to the other side and closed this exit until Martha found me.”

“Well, I'm here now. You can go.”

“No, I have to relieve Chrissy.”

Lisa moved away, misery showing in every line of her body. Candace wondered what on earth could have happened that could have been that bad. Then the first kid came flying at her, screaming for his candy cane, and she had no more time to think.