Deck The Halls With Brand New Stories: Ho Ho Holiday Anthology

Dear Santa

Still... maybe she should check out that little pastry shop on the corner. She didn't have any appointments this morning. Maybe a little pick-me-up in caffeine form was in order.

***

The girl was cute, Carmen had admitted to herself when she watched the woman walk away that morning, letter in hand. Blond hair had been poking out from beneath a green knitted hat. Stylish glasses sat upon her pert nose, and she strode with quick, purposeful steps.

What had the girl been thinking, Carmen wondered, when she was standing in front of the box, staring at the taped envelope? Carmen had been spying from her office window on the second floor like some kind of stalker. She couldn't help it. She had to know who this Leona person was.

Leona the lovely, lonely lesbian, her brain chorused.

Shut up, brain.

She must be a bit desperate herself, thinking of a complete stranger this way.

But was she really a complete stranger? The woman had bared a small piece of her soul in a letter, and something within Carmen had responded to that. What did it mean?

Half an hour later, she conceded that she was making no progress whatsoever. She'd been staring vacuously at the spreadsheet on her computer screen while her mind lingered on a certain letter from a certain graphic designer. The numbers on the screen, which had made sense yesterday, mocked her this morning.

Coffee. She needed coffee.

She needed coffee with a chocolate-covered pastry. And maybe a lobotomy. Before she even realized she'd grabbed her coat and purse, she found herself halfway to the pastry shop on the corner.

Chocolate croissant or chocolate scone? Both sounded good. Maybe she could—Carmen froze in the middle of the sidewalk.

No. That couldn't be her, could it? Carmen had mentioned the bakery on a whim, but didn't think the woman would immediately go there.

Or did she? She hated to admit it, but it was possible that a tiny scrap of hope had been perched in the back of her mind, silently guiding her hand when she wrote the reply letter.

And there Leona was, her green knitted cap unmistakable in the window. She sat on a stool by herself, hands wrapped around a steaming mug and head bent over a letter.

The letter Carmen had written. She recognized the yellow page torn from her legal pad. What should she do now? Walk away immediately? Get her breakfast and flee? Introduce herself?

She felt her heart racing at the last thought. She couldn't possibly. What would she even say?

The girl lifted her head and glanced up at her through the window.

Amazing blue eyes met hers, and Carmen forced herself to look away. To resume walking. To not look like a creepy stalker weirdo.

She should leave. Immediately. She should go back to her office and pour herself a cup of watery breakroom coffee and be glad for it. She could probably dig up some crackers to go with it. Or an apple.

Yeah.

She went inside.

She carefully avoided looking in Leona's direction, and instead concentrated on the heavenly scent of freshly baked goods and brewing coffee. She would just grab her sustenance and scamper away like a mouse.

"We're brewing a fresh batch of the organic coffee, so it'll be a few minutes. Sorry for the wait," the barista informed her after taking her money.