Catching a glimpse of a legendary all-white reindeer is supposed to bring good luck.
Not for Georgia Greene.
As Georgia makes her way home for Christmas, a white reindeer dashes across the road in front of her, causing her to crash her car into a...
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Felix
Felix Nissen snapped his laptop closed andgroaned with frustration, dragging his fingers through his tousled, auburn hair. He had just hit a flow on his project, and, of course, that was when his Internet connection had decided to sputter out. This was one of the many reasons why he hated coming home for Christmas. His mother didn't 'believe' in Wi-Fi, and so he was forced to rely on tethering to his phone to get any sort of connection to the outside world. And, unfortunately, out here on the family farm, reception was always spotty.
Being a freelance web developer may mean he could work wherever and whenever he pleased, but that was only as long as he had access to the Internet. Taking a deep breath, Felix rubbed his tired blue eyes and reminded himself that this small hiccup wasn't the end of the world. His contract to develop an online reservation system for a hotel was still well ahead of schedule. In fact, it was very nearly done. There were just a few last finishing touches to be completed, and then he could send along his latest changes. And his notoriously picky client was very happy with his work. One more round of feedback and he was pretty sure he could wrap up the whole project, just in time for Christmas.
Felix picked up his smartphone to see what the problem was. The spot at the end of the dining room table was usually the best place in the house for reception, and where he usually settled for the day, so it was strange that it had cut out. But of course, he saw his phone flashing an angry warning of NO SERVICE. He sighed and put his phone back down. Something must be affecting its signal. He had no idea what, so there was nothing he could do about it.
Well, Felix thought to himself, I needed a break anyway.
He pushed back from the table, the old wooden chair squealing across the hardwood floor, and headed for the kitchen. Maybe he'd make himself a coffee. It was a little late in the day for caffeine, but Felix drank so much of the stuff he was nearly immune to its effects. He could have a full cup at midnight and still sleep as soundly as a baby.
As he stepped into the kitchen, a frown spread across his face. While the bones of the place made for a well-kept farmhouse kitchen, original to the house—the very thing interior designers tried to emulate when they aimed for 'rustic'—it had been overwhelmed by its decor. Every surface and corner had been bedecked with something that glistened, glittered, or sparkled. Evergreen garlands, heavy with baubles, hung in scallops across the open wooden shelves; the contents of the lower cabinets were hidden by green plaid curtains, tied closed with red velvet ribbons; a thick wreath, pinned with what looked like real holly, hung in the window over the white apron-front sink; and a bright red kettle, shaped like a Santa-hat, sat atop the original wrought-iron wood stove.
Felix knew that kettle well. It was the same one that his mother brought out every Christmas since he was a kid. It was a little banged up—a dent here, a scratch there—but otherwise still in pretty good shape. He knew his mother would never give it up unless the entire bottom rusted and dropped out. It had been one of his father's early Christmas presents to her, many years back when they first married and it was precious to her.
