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
They sat at the kitchen table together, staring at the piece of paper between them. The number handwritten at the top of the page—filled in with many zeros—drew most of their focus. The number of zeros was meant to be motivating, a representation of the fact that Hugo wanted a quick decision and quick possession. He had even included a bonus to help with moving their belongings.
Despite the very generous offer, his mother's expression was grim.
"I don't know," she said for what seemed like the millionth time. She had been paralyzed by indecision ever since Hugo had handed over the stack of paper. "I just don't know. Do you think we should accept this offer?"
"I can't tell you what to do," Felix said. "This is your house."
"This is our house," his mother said, reaching out for him. He watched her other hand move to the always empty spot at the head of the table—his dad. Her fingers grazed the edge of the coffee cup stain. "The family's house. I want to know what you think."
"It's a good offer," Felix said. "A very good offer. We're unlikely to get an offer with more money than this."
"I don't care about the money," his mother said, spitting the last word like it was dirty. "I've got more than enough money to survive in the savings account your dad and I put together. What I want is to know that the farm will be going to good hands."
Felix pressed his lips together. He couldn't lie to his mom and tell her that Hugo would take care of the place like she—and the many generations that came before—had. Georgia's warning had been correct. The offer contained explicit language that they had no say in what happened to the property after the purchase was final. Hugo might very well gut the place, replacing its warm charm with cold stone...
Or he might bulldoze the place.
If they signed the contract in front of them, he'd have every right to.
"Does it matter?" Felix managed at last. "It won't be yours anymore."
"Of course it matters," his mother said, her voice going quiet. "It matters because this place means a lot to me. It matters because this place meant a lot to your father. He grew up here. You grew up here. He wanted to see it passed down, appreciated, enjoyed by people who would carry on the legacy of his family. Not replaced, erased, or..." she swallowed, "torn down."
"And what if that doesn't come along?" Felix asked. "You may have your retirement fund now, but you might not get to keep it if you keep waiting around for the perfect buyer."
His mother stared at him. He knew what she was thinking. He was the one that was supposed to come along, change his mind, and save the farm. It would be too easy to say the words and appease his mom, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it.
