A Christmas Exchange by A.J. Morrow

Author:A.J. Morrow [Morrow, A.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2021-12-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

It was only a week until the shop closed for Christmas and the staff were given time off for the holiday, but to Rachel it felt like an eternity. As she went through her shifts, conscious, as always, of Emily, she found herself constantly checking the clock above the mantelpiece. Every day she pressed a treat out of her advent calendar—filled with chocolate, since she liked the tradition—and knew that it brought her closer to the Christmas party.

The get together was set a few days before their holiday, organized so that no one had any other plans, and was really just an evening at the local pub. They did it every year—and at Halloween, too—as part of ‘keeping up morale’. At least, that was what Phil said.

Rachel groaned as her alarm beeped anxiously at her from the nightstand. She rolled over, determined to get another five minutes in, before she realized what day it was—it was the day of the Secret Santa.

She bolted out of bed, head knotted up on one side from a fitful night’s sleep, and tugged at the covers to pull them back into place. She hurried into the bathroom for a quick shower, not letting herself indulge any more than a few minutes longer than she needed to, even though it was cold, since she knew she didn’t have much time left. It was her own fault—she’d gone to bed late the night before and set her alarm later to match, but it was still inconvenient.

Another snowstorm had blown in overnight, coating everything outside the window in another inch of white. Rachel shivered as she stepped out of the shower, feet damp against the bath mat. No wonder it was cold, even in her flat.

Luckily, the shower had warmed her up some—or shaken the cold from her bones, at least—and Rachel was able to quickly get dressed into her ‘festive’ uniform. After a quick bowl of porridge and a moment to check that her outfit for the party later was tucked away safely in her bag, she was ready to leave. Rachel grabbed her keys from the side table and headed out into the snow.

It was more brutal than usual that day. Pathetic fallacy, her high school English teacher would have called it—when the weather reflects your mood. She was tense, too highly wound for someone who hadn’t even had a cup of coffee yet, and the snow seemed to be holding its breath as well. It was too pristine, too stark and white in comparison to the gray clouds. No car had driven across it yet and no feet had trodden through it—everything was beautiful and still and so painfully, painfully perfect. Until Rachel walked across, of course. She hoped that wasn’t an omen for the night ahead, especially when she crossed paths with Ms. Baker’s old black cat. She wasn’t superstitious, not in the slightest, but she needed all the luck she could get.

Rachel sighed. She was making far too big a deal out of it—if Emily didn’t like her gift, then she could always try again next year.

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