Clair Peterson sat in her car, watching the tiny flurry of snowflakes coming down. Any other time in her life, the perfect snowfall on the first day of December would have made her giddy. Not this morning. The radio was playing a soft, instrumental version of 'Jingle Bells' which merely added to her annoyance.
She angrily slammed the power button and the radio went quiet. She turned her gaze to the small building nestled between two department stores: 'Maggie's Magical Sweets.' She loved working there and holiday time in a candy store was more beautiful than any Christmas-obsessed person could ever dream. At least, that's how it used to be for her. Her mother had started working there as far back as she could remember. After spending countless weekends there, it became obvious that Clair had a talent and by the time she was a teenager, she was creating candies and pastries right along side Magical Maggie herself.
She finally forced herself out of the car and trudged across the parking lot. The bell above the door jingled as she entered the store. Two older women stood in front of a small Christmas tree, adorning its branches with decorations that looked like cookies. They both turned at her approach.
"Good morning, dear," the taller one said.
Clair gave her a quick hug. "Morning, Mom." She turned to give the other woman a hug as well. "Morning, Maggie."
Maggie was one of the nicest people Clair had ever known. What she lacked in height was more than made up for by the size of her heart. In their younger years, Clair and her sister had often wondered if Maggie really did possess some sort of magical charm.
Maggie's softly weathered face broke into a smile. "We were just talking about how beautiful the snow was."
Clair tried hard not to cringe in front of them. "Yeah, it's great."
"I'm glad they boys got back last night before it started," Mrs. Peterson remarked.
"Dad's back from his trip?" Clair's father was a pilot and because they lived so close to the Canadian border, charted flights to and from Alaska.
"I'm sure David will be stopping by soon. He said he has a surprise for us." After receiving his license, Maggie's son David became her father's official copilot. The week after Thanksgiving had become a special trip for David as the two men flew up north to where David's father lived. Clair had never met the man, but Maggie kept several old pictures of him in the store.
Clair walked over to the counter and observed the shelves. "Looks like you two have been busy this morning." There were racks full of delectable treats, all Christmas-themed.
"The only thing missing is the snowmen," Mrs Peterson told her. "They're in the kitchen waiting for faces and buttons."
"There's blueberry crumb cake in there too if you haven't had breakfast," Maggie called after her.
Clair made her way though the swinging set of doors into the kitchen. Sure enough, a large tray of snowman-shaped marshmallows sat on the counter. She spied two bags of icing next to the tray.
She made quick work of piping black eyes and red buttons on the snowmen. Just as she was coming up on the last one, the back door slammed, making her jump and smear the icing.
"Dammit, David!"
He stood there, looking sheepish, with a large box in his hands. "Sorry." His curly dark hair was flecked with snow and his face was flushed from the cold air. For a split second, Clair almost thought his cheeks sparkled. The two of them had known each other for most of their lives and had even gone to high school together. Though they were both nearing 25, David's face had seemed to stop aging at 18.
She picked up the botched candy. "You ruined it, you eat it."
David shrugged. "Seems fair enough." He took the messed up mallow. "Is my mother here?"
"Yes, they're in the front, decorating." She followed him out of the kitchen with her tray. She pretended to tidy up the front counter while David and his mother greeted each other.
"Dad sent these," David said, setting his box on a small table.
"Oh, the molasses," Maggie squealed. She clasped her hands to her chest. "Oh, Bernard, you always come through just in time."
Wherever it was that David's father lived, came the best molasses Clair had ever tasted. It was their secret to making the best gingerbread in town.
"There's three more boxes in the truck out back."
"I hope it'll be enough. You must be famished. I'll heat up some crumb cake and a cup of cocoa."
"Actually, I'd rather have some coffee."
The store went silent. Even Clair looked up to see what the problem was. Maggie gave a light gasp and touched her hand to her son's forehead. "Oh dear, are you ill?"
"No, Mother, I'm fine." He gave her a reassuring smile. "It's just, I drank my weight in cocoa while I was up North. I just kind of want to feel human right now."
Maggie gave him a rueful look. "Don't scare me like that."
David planted a quick peck on the cheek. "Love you too, Mother." He turned. "Clair, will you hold the back door open so I can bring these boxes in?"
Clair crossed her arms as she strolled through the kitchen. She leaned against the heavy back door, propping it open with her body, as David carted in three more boxes. She tried to subdue the sudden fuzziness that rose in her stomach as she watched the snow fall around him.