The lives of Kate and Jim Beckett are turned on end when a mysterious stranger arrives in town and joins them for the Christmas season. Though they don't know it, the appearance of Rick Rodgers is far from coincidental, and might just change all three lives forever. Entry in the Castle Winter Hiatus Ficathon 2015-2016
**Note** This story has been inspired by the movie The Christmas Card (2006)
A/N - First of all - yes this story has been inspired by a holiday movie from a decade ago. Which, incidentally, if any of you have not yet seen the movie, I highly recommend watching it - Hallmark should play it sometime in December during their holiday movie 24/7 extravaganza. The Christmas Card is without a doubt the best of the best (and I realize given that its Hallmark, the movie quality bar is set pretty low, but it's really great!)
I will also be posting this story "live" - that is to say that the story takes place in December and I will post chapters on the days they occur in story time. This means you'll get about 3-4 chapters a week but on random days. (Occasionally multiple chapters take place on the same day, so the posting schedule will be modified a bit in these cases.) Though I'm still writing, per my outline the story will finish on New Years Day.
Enjoy!
Prologue
2008
With a heavy exhale, Kate Beckett sat down at the large six-seater dining room table and surveyed the set-up before her. One hundred cards were stacked in four even piles to her left. A foot in front of her sat an equal number of envelopes in equivalent piles. Down one side of the table lay a damp sponge for sealing the envelopes, stickers for decorating them, and, finally, an empty box to put the completed cards in. She was officially ready. At least, insofar as supplies. Mentally it was another story.
For the prior eight years Kate had been in charge of her hometown's Operation Christmas Cheer. She would collect the hundreds of cards created by various volunteers and ship them off to whichever military base (or bases) they were sponsoring that year. Not since she was little had she actually made the cards herself. Running the event was enough work, but with Mrs. Henderson's baby arriving early and Mrs. McCarthy's mother being ill she was two volunteers short and, rather than short-change the men and women in uniform, she decided to pick up the slack herself.
Shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath, Kate picked up the first card from the stack. That year, they had three different style cards printed with their generic message of greeting. The card Kate held was what she so eloquently called in her mind "the green one" since the entire background of the card was a solid emerald green tone. In the foreground, a white cartoon dove flew holding a black olive branch. The gold scripted lettering above the dove read Peace & Joy.
Kate flipped open the card and skimmed over the greeting—the same one they'd been using for the prior few years.
Dear Soldier,
Greetings from New Hampshire! Those of us here in Hinsdale are wishing you a warm, happy holiday season. We cannot imagine how difficult it must be for you to be away from your family and loved ones over the holidays, but please know we are eternally grateful for your service to our great country. Wishing you a joyful holiday season and a safe return home!
Kate twisted her lips to the side as she stared down at the message. It was good. Nice. But it needed more. It felt so…generic. She flattened the card against the table, picked up her pen and began to write down her thoughts.
Every year our town gets together and sends holiday cards to soldiers stationed all over the world, and while it's a great gesture, sometimes it feels a little impersonal. I don't know you and you don't know me, but I'd still like to wish you holiday cheer.
Christmas used to be my favorite holiday. Like all children, I went to bed dreaming about what presents Santa would leave me under the tree. Even as I grew older I would still race out of bed on Christmas morning and sit patiently beneath the tree waiting for my parents to get up and finally let me open my gifts. But when my mother died, it felt like my holiday spirit went along with her; I didn't feel like celebrating anymore. Unfortunately, that's not an option in my life; my family owns a Christmas tree farm.
Now, Christmas has become just a season for me to get through, but that's not any way to live. I know Christmas today feels so commercialized with Christmas music starting in stores in mid-November and sale ads littering the mail with enticing slogans and rock bottom deals, but that's not what Christmas is about. Christmas is about family and about hope. I encourage you to find a way to celebrate even though you might not have the strongest holiday spirit. And, once you find a way to do that, apply it to every season of life—not just Christmas—for then you will truly be living.
If you ever find yourself in Hinsdale around Christmastime stop by our lot—Beckett's Trees—and you can have one on us (or, if a Christmas tree is too impractical for you to take with you, you can have one of our handmade ornaments instead).
Happy Holidays,
Kate
She set her pen down and stared down at the word she'd written, surprised that she had made such a confession in a card bound for a complete stranger. For a moment, she considered throwing the card away and starting fresh with a new one, but she couldn't do that. The army was expecting a certain number of cards and she couldn't afford to waste one.
With a shrug, she reached forward and picked up an envelope to slide her personalized card in. She placed the packaged card to her far right, just beside the damp sponge, deciding that she would do one quarter of the cards at a time.
On the next one she picked up—a card with a large, centralized white dove on a midnight blue background—she only wrote the end of her previous message.
Happy Holidays,
Kate
Though it was barely more personal than the pre-printed message, at least it was hand written. Perhaps, she thought as she reached for the third card—same style as the second except with a cherry red background—if the mood struck her she would write a longer message on some of the cards. Otherwise, they would all be the same, but at least one person stationed in the Middle East would get a personalized message. She only hoped they'd appreciate it.