Chapter 2
The breathless elf skidded into the workshop and almost ran into the man with a full beard, working on a slab of wood. "Seven Snow wolves have attacked and killed the sentinels," he gasped. "They are heading right for the house!"
The austere man in the long, green coat looked up and frowned. "She's early," he remarked and returned to his carving.
"Do we alert the guards? We must barricade the doors or they will break through." The elf was jumping up and down in agitation.
The toy-maker carefully put down the piece of wood he had been carving and sheathed the knife. "No," he decided. "I don't think so."
"B-b-but, they killed!" the elf sputtered. "She is breaking the rules."
"I would say she is just re-inventing them. Winter solstice is tonight; the cycle has nearly come full circle."
"Do you really have to go to her?"
"Yes. It 's how it must be." Dousing the lights, the green-clad toy-maker strode out of the room, but hesitated on the threshold. "I fear this time she may have the upper hand," he muttered. "You know what you have to do, Erin."
The elf paled, but swallowed back his fear and anticipation, and drew himself up. "Yes, I do. I won't let you down, Santa."
Something thumped heavily against the large wooden doors downstairs, making the wood creak.
"I know you won't." The man who was known to many as Santa Claus, Kriss Kringle, or Father Christmas – although he was all of them and neither – smiled a little and his pale blue eyes glittered. "Then I will go down and give them the honorable reception required of us. And as I do my part in this, you will do yours."
Pressing his lips together, the elf stayed in the doorway while the Spirit of Christmas walked alone down the wooden stairs to open the doors. As he pressed down the heavy handles, Erin slipped silently back into the workshop, closed and barred the door carefully, and sneaked across the floor for a quick peek out the window.
The pack of huge wolves had split up to surround the house; two of them were right outside the doors, and one was coming toward him. Shaking with fear, Erin scuttled across the room to the open fireplace. A few dying embers still flickered in there. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he boldly stepped into the hearth and closed his eyes.
The huge body of the winter wolf crashed through the window, sending glass shards and splintered wood into the room. Growling deep in its throat, it sniffed the air and trotted a turn around the workshop, sniffing all corners. It growled at the fireplace, but failing to find anyone there, it left the workshop by easily pushing away the bar from the door, and prowled into the hallways to round up other elves.
In the empty workshop, the dying embers flickered in the cold draft and some soot rustled down from the chimney pipe.
"Paige's not entirely off," Phoebe said as they left the nursery.
Piper's hand remained on the handle a second longer. "Did you have a premonition? Because we were promised no more interference in our personal lives for a good while."
"No." Phoebe shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "But it is winter solstice and evil forces are at their zenith. Perhaps we should keep our eyes open."
"And when did you become such an expert on solstices?"
"Oh, I had reason to check up on… something … I just think we should… you know… be careful."
"Okay, I'll talk to Leo about it. But if he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary, that's it. I'm not going off on a wild goose chase for demons this close to Christmas."
Leaving the bathroom, Phoebe saw the sliver of light beneath the attic door and crept up the stairs. Carefully pushing the door ajar, she peeked around the edge. "Piper?" Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her. "What are you doing up here? It's the middle of the night, and… freezing!" Shivering, she pulled her morning robe tighter. As Piper looked up from what she was doing in the old couch, Phoebe could see she had tears in her eyes. "What's the matter, sweetie? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." She dabbed at the corner of her eye. "Wyatt wet his bed and I had to change the sheets, and then I couldn't go back to sleep. So I thought I would come up here and find some old photo albums; show the boys all the pics of us as little girls, and Grams, and mom…" Her voice trailed away and she gestured vaguely at the box in her lap. "And then I found this…"
Concerned and a little mystified, Phoebe walked over to the couch, grabbed a blanket on the way and curled up on the couch next to her sister. "Let me see." Curious, she peeked into the old shoe box. "Oh…" It was full of pics, lots of them, haphazardly thrown into it. She grabbed a handful and started flipping through them. "Prue's photos?"
"Yeah. I found it in the old trunk over there. I had forgotten about putting them there after she… When Paige moved into her room."
Smiling at the memories, Phoebe sorted through the packet in her hand. "Look, there are lots of Andy here. And…of Prue." She gingerly brushed her fingers over the portrait. "I really miss her."
"Me too. Do you think she and Andy…?"
"Oh, I'm sure they are!" Giving her sister a quick smile, Phoebe grabbed another handful from the box. "Hey, look! That's you and Dan."
"Yeah, the one that got away." Piper laughed a little.
Phoebe gave her a pointed glance. "Regrets, sister?"
"None whatsoever. Let's just not show them to Leo."
Phoebe thumbed the pic. "Have you ever wanted to find out where he is; what happened to him?"
"There were times when I wondered about him," Piper admitted. "When Leo and I broke up, when he had to be an Elder, then I sometimes thought about calling Dan – but no, I would never do that to either of them. Why?"
"Mm, no reason. Just curious." She put it away and held up the next. "Remember that one?"
"Leo." Smiling, Piper took the photo to study closer. "I think Prue took this when we still thought he was a 'handyman'."
"And you were quick to find out just how 'handy' he was."
"Aren't you a fine one to talk?" Piper tried to hide her embarrassment by scoffing, but failed completely as she couldn't help but smile. "Are there any more of him there?"
"I'll look." Phoebe dug into the box, shuffling photos aside, when she suddenly froze in mid-motion. "Cole…?"
"Where?!" Panic rising, Piper looked about and just barely caught herself as she received a strange glance from her sister. "Sorry. Old habit," she amended sheepishly, hoping Phoebe wouldn't suspect anything else.
Phoebe was too preoccupied by her find to notice her sister's near slip of tongue, or faint sigh of relief. Very slowly, the photo was uncovered and picked up as carefully as if she thought it would crumble into dust.
For obvious reasons, Cole harbored a deep dislike for having his picture taken, but she talked him into it a couple of times and Prue had managed to take a couple of really good shots. It was in fact one of the few things Prue had appreciated unreservedly about Cole; he took great pictures. Once, Phoebe had them all framed and hung, but in her effort to purge the manor from any demonic residue after he was vanquished, she had also destroyed anything that reminded her about Cole. Apparently, one escaped.
A little breathless, she stared at the face on the photo. "Cole…" she mouthed.
It was so long ago since she said his name out loud. Even longer since she had seen that sun-glitter smile of his, the one that made his ocean-colored eyes sparkle, making her heart skip a beat. A strange mix of feelings swirled in her stomach, making her vaguely nauseous. "Did you know his mother planned his birth for the winter solstice, to make sure he was born under as much evil influence as possible?" she murmured. Moreover, he had died on this day too, four years ago. She felt uncomfortable for feeling almost guilty remembering that.
"So that's the secret about your extended knowledge about it?" Piper gave her a sharp look.
Phoebe shrugged. "I told you I had a reason to check up on it. I just wanted to make sure there was no way he could use it to return."
"And?"
"I don't know. Other vanquished demons have returned. I have almost been afraid to speak his name out loud for fear that he would somehow… But if he really could, you'd think he would have tried by now." She wasn't sure if she was just relieved, or a tad disappointed too.
Piper regarded her closely. "If he did," she asked, carefully choosing her words. "What would you do?"
"I don't know. Run?" She let go a short laugh. "I haven't thought about it. Actually, I try not to think about him at all. Too many painful memories, I guess." Her voice trailed away as she absentmindedly let her fingers trace the outline of his face. "He did have a beautiful smile, didn't he?" she murmured softly. While she removed her hand, her eyes stayed wistfully on his face.
Piper pursed her lips, weighing the pros and cons, wondering what would be the right thing to do. How much better – or worse – would Phoebe feel from knowing Cole wasn't in Hell but trapped in some limbo by a curse? If she told her that, would she also have to reveal that Cole still loved her so much, he found a way to save her from sharing his fate? "Phoebe…" she began haltingly. "There's something I should have told you a long time ago." She took a deep breath. "Remember when the Elders took away Leo's memory, when I almost died…?" The sudden sound of a baby crying startled her. It was Chris who had woken up, discontent with something. Interrupting herself, Piper looked nervously from the door to Phoebe and back again. "I just…"
"Go ahead!" Phoebe smiled. "We can talk in the morning."
With a grateful smile, Piper hurried out the door, but stopped on the threshold. "Aren't you coming?"
"Right behind you, I'll just put these away." Smiling, she held up the box and started to put the photos back, but as soon as Piper had left the room, her hands slowed down. Pressing her lips together, Phoebe picked up the remaining photograph, to gaze at Cole's face once more. He was smiling at the camera; his blue-green eyes glittering with happiness. She wondered if he was at peace now, or suffering in Hell, and suddenly there was a small, completely unexpected, pang of guilt.
"I never wanted you vanquished," she whispered wretchedly to the portrait. "I just wanted you out of my life, not out of yours. Wherever you may be, I hope you have a happy birthday."
Catching herself five minutes later, still gazing at the pic, Phoebe quickly put it back in the box, closed the lid firmly, and ordered herself back to bed.
No, she never thought about Cole. It was much better that way. There were just too many broken faiths and too much guilt there, to be dealt with. After all her losses, she had trusted him to stay and he had left her, disappointed her, and betrayed her trust beyond repair. Now that she finally had restored her faith in love, there was no point in dragging it all up again. It was ancient history, and nothing she wanted to go back to ever again. Because if she did, she might have to admit she might be wrong about him. Then, how would she be able to hold on to what she had convinced herself in order to stay sane?
No, Cole had become evil and that justified her actions.
That night, a cold wind blew through Prescott Street, freezing the puddles and coating the car windows with a fine layer of frost. It rattled the boughs in the gardens outside the old houses, and crept under the thresholds. The draft carried upstairs and swept into the bedrooms where the three witches slept. They shivered a little in their sleep and pulled their duvets closer. No one noticed the frost, forming on the inside of the windows in intricate patterns.
When they woke up in the morning, there was no trace of it.
The Winter Queen's pale face lit up in a frosty smile as Fang and Grim returned with a man they gently but firmly herded forward between them. "You came!" she cried out brightly in greeting, immediately picking up a silvery cup and holding it out toward him. "Some mulled wine? Or would you prefer milk and cookies?"
The man accepted the offered cup. "You are much to kind, Milady," he said – a barely detectable edge to his voice. "Your invitation was such that I could not resist." Warming his hands on the silver goblet, he regarded its contents thoughtfully. "Your home made brew, no doubt."
"No doubt." A feline smile played on her blood red lips. "Please, try it."
"And if I decline?"
A small thunderstorm brewed in her eyes. "Then my wolves will start killing off your elves. Your choice, of course. Think of it as a part of your…" she waved a delicate hand and rolled up her eyes, "…grand design."
The Spirit of Christmas nodded and sipped the red, steaming liquid. "So, to what do I owe this not entirely unexpected honor?"
The Winter Queen studied her guest closely. His eyes were paler than she remembered, but still very blue; ice blue and sharp. The once dark hair had begun to turn gray and his skin had started to wrinkle with age and weariness, but he was still very handsome and dashing. "Let's not stand on protocol, Kriss. You and I go back way too far for that. I've missed you; isn't that reason enough?" She smiled and stepped close enough to put her hands on his arms. "It's been a long time."
Regarding her over the rim of the steaming cup, Kriss slowly extended a hand to push a strand of midnight black hair out of her face. "It's been very long."
The potion was already doing its work; binding his powers, breaking down his resistance to her charms. Slowly his hand crept behind her neck to pull her close into a passionate kiss – a kiss he knew would seal her hold on him until the spell was broken. It was such a sweet way to succumb, he thought.
"Why, Santa," she whispered gleefully as he drew back. "Either you brought me a pocket sized Christmas tree, or you are happy to see me."
"And if that is my reason for coming here; what is yours for bringing me?"
"Oh, same old, same old…" She swept away from him, gliding back up to her ice throne to settle down on the thick fur skin. "I want to prevent you from spreading joy and good will toward men. It so cramps my style."
"I see." He took another, thoughtful sip, and gestured with the cup. "Well, I guess you have to try."
"Not this time, Kriss." She smiled sweetly at him. "This time I plan on making a few changes."
If he was shocked or worried, it didn't show as he merely frowned at her. "You can't change what is already set to happen, Milady. It is simply our task and purpose to play out this legend, and keep the balance from tipping."
"Is it?" Her demure smile turned into a self-satisfied smirk. "Well, I'll tell you something. I'm so tired of doing this old dance over and over. This time the scales will tip; in my favor."
Santa's frown deepened. "The cycle must be allowed to continue. You can't change it."
"Can't I?" Her cold laughter billowed out from her mouth in a cloud of frost. "For years I have patiently planted my ice needles in the hearts of humans, slowly bleeding them of their empathy, freezing their belief in Good and Magic. Tell me, 'Santa'! How many humans out there truly believe in you anymore? With their computers, and high technology, and science, there is no room for the legends or miracles anymore. They have forgotten what Christmas is really all about. They have forgotten about you. No one will come to your aid this time."
"You are wrong," Santa said calmly. "There are still those who believe in me and remember me, and they will come to bring back the light."
The Winter Queen gave him a leisurely look. "You mean the Charmed Ones?" she purred, and then smirked at his failure to mask his apprehension. "I have known about them for years, my dear, and I have made very sure they will not interfere."
"What have you done?" Santa Claus took a step forward but faltered in his step, and the Queen's eyes glittered as he stumbled to his knees.
"Wouldn't you want to know?" she said smugly. "Actually, I handed out a couple of early gifts for Christmas. Oh, and I also put a little extra into that mulled wine," she added. "I wanted to make sure you didn't leave the party too soon. After all, you wouldn't want to miss any of the entertainment."
She pointed to an oval surface on the wall where the ice was so polished it was clearer than crystal. At her gesture, it begun to shimmer like an aurora borealis. The colors merged and blended, and slowly a picture took shape, showing the interior of Santa's house at the North Pole. Five Snow wolves, tongues lolling, were gathered just inside the doors. In a corner, a number of frightened elves huddled.
"Garm, you may commence according to plan," the Queen ordered.
As one, the wolves rose and advanced on their captives.
"No!" Santa gasped from the floor. "What are you doing? You can't…"
"Oh, but I can!" Imperiously, she glared at him. "This is the Christmas when my wish will come true – and those who say Santa doesn't exist will finally be right." Laughing, she turned back to watch the carnage in her ice mirror.
"No!" Piper thrust out both her arms in a gesture of finality. "I am not doing it. I am sick and tired of being taken for granted in this house. I have one house, two little boys and P3 to take care of, and I have one husband and two sisters, who could offer to help once in a while."
The image in the mirror gestured back, looking equally decisive. Sighing, Piper turned back to the half-cleaned, not yet decorated house, and the groceries in the kitchen, waiting to be turned into Christmas dinner.
And then there was the club…
The accountant had come by today to go through the books, and while they weren't doing poorly, they couldn't afford to close for the holidays. It would be such a disappointment for everyone – herself included – but if she prepared all that could be prepared, and just saved the last details for Christmas Day, she might just be able to swing both. After all, she still had two days left to do it in.
Piper sighed again. It wasn't that she didn't want to do it, she was even quite proud of her work, and knowing how grateful her family would be, helped a lot. Only, sometimes a little help offered, without having to ask for it, would be nice.
Halfway through her preparations, the phone rang.
"Piper, it's me! You can never guess what I will be doing!" Phoebe was shouting into the receiver at her end, making her sister wince.
"So it wouldn't be coming home early to help me clean and cook, because I would never guess that."
Phoebe didn't listen. "MGMishostingabigChristmasshowonTVwiththeirstars andatalkshow,andpeoplewillbeabletocallin,andtheywantmetobeinapanelgivin'advicetolonely-people," she blurted out without stopping to breathe. "Isn't it fantastic, Piper?! I'm going to Hollywood! Ohmygod! I don't know what to wear!"
"Okay, okay, calm down! I thought you were done with TV-shows after the last time."
"Yeah, well, this is different, because you know what else? I said I couldn't come unless my family got to come, so we are all going!"
"Wait…? We are... what? When?"
"Christmas! We get to spend the entire holiday in Hollywood. I've got to call Paige."
"Phoebe, wait! What do you mean 'Christmas'? We can't go on Christmas. I can't go on Christmas."
Phoebe's breathless joy abated in the other end of the line. "What do you mean you can't go?"
"We were supposed to have a family Christmas…"
"We will still have that, but in Hollywood."
"Yes, but I have to keep P3 open on Christmas and… I can't do that from Hollywood."
"What?"
"I'm sorry, but I have to, and I am trying to juggle having Christmas with you guys anyway…" Piper looked around at the messy kitchen and Chris happily munching cookie batter, and she thought thank God, Leo had taken Wyatt with him downtown to watch the decorations. "Can't you just fly down to tape the show and come back?"
There was a moment's silence "It's a six hour, live show, Piper, and it airs on Christmas Day. I can't answer questions before people make them, and they will be allowed to call all through the show. It's the chance of a lifetime. I have to go."
Piper took a deep breath. "Of course you do. Look, I have to get cookies out of the oven; can we talk about this when you get home?" Without waiting for Phoebe's answer, she hung up, removed Chris from the table, and went to rescue the cookies out of the oven. "What morons host a live show for six hours on Christmas Day?" she grumbled as she shoved another baking sheet into the oven. Ignoring the sting of guilt for having the club open, she started on a new batch of cookies.
Then the phone rang again, and annoyed, she snatched it up. "Phoebe, I'm really happy for you, but…"
"It's Paige. Guess what!"
"I'd rather not."
"I've solved our Christmas problem."
"You have?"
"Yes! Billie just called. She has invited us to spend the holiday with her in New York."
"New York? And how are we supposed to arrange for flight tickets two days before Christmas?"
"Ever heard of orbing? I have always wanted to go to New York! Isn't it great?"
"Terrific! Paige, I… You haven't talked to Phoebe yet, have you?"
"No."
"I thought so." Piper sighed again, a bit more strained this time. "We have to talk about this toni... Chris, no!" Dropping the cordless, she ran over and caught the screaming two year old, who had burnt his hand on the hot sheet. "Damn it! It's alright, sweetie." Flushing his hand in cold water, she did her best to hold the squirming child in her arms, when the smoke alarm went off.
"What the…?" Looking around wildly, she saw the smoke from the stove and realized that at least one batch of Christmas cookies had gone to waste as smoke was pouring out of the oven door. With Chris under one arm, screaming his head off, she tried to get the batch of burnt cookies out without causing more damage to either. However, with Chris flaying his arms frantically, she tipped the entire batch onto the floor where they scattered in a million, sooty crumbles, while the smoke alarm and Chris tried to drown each other out.
"Enough already!"
The smoke alarm exploded in a shower of sparks, and fell silent – as did Chris out of pure shock.
Ignoring the mess, Piper got some Aloe gel from the cupboard to treat the scald, and went to sit with Chris in the sunroom. "It's alright," she told herself. "It's alright, because this is what happens in normal families, leading normal lives, because these things happen to make… normal lives into lives." Applying the cool balm seemed to have a soothing effect on Chris. He was only sobbing quietly now. "You know what else is okay?" Piper said and dried away his tears. "No demons or magical beings are going to hassle us this Christmas. The only thing magic coming to visit this house, will be Santa Cl… What the…?"
There was a terrible ruckus from the chimney. Soot rained down the pipe and then something large thudded down on to the hearth in a cloud of ashes, coughing and wheezing. Crawling out, a gnome-like being dragged what was left of last night's fire out of the fireplace, onto the recently scrubbed floor.
"Oh, no, you don't!"
The sooty, bearded face wrinkled up in a look of utter surprise as he realized that while he could move his head; his body was frozen in place. Letting his quizzical gaze travel up the pair of legs in front of him, he eventually reached Piper's stern face. "Miss Piper Halliwell?" he croaked.
"Mrs." Piper stared down at him. "And who might you be?"
"I'm Erin, one of Santa's elves, and I apologize for my clumsy entrance…"
"Do you now?" Lowering her hand, she shifted Chris to her other arm, but made no effort to unfreeze the little man on the floor.
"Yes… Santa never makes a mess like this in a chimney… although he is in one… mess I mean. Would you mind… unfreezing me, miss… Mrs. Halliwell?"
"Yes, I would. You still haven't told me what you want, why you're here, or whether or not you want to kill me and or my family."
The elf made big eyes. "Oh, I mean absolutely no harm. I'm here to fetch the Charmed Ones' help."
"'Fetch'?" Feeling the elf didn't present any greater threat, Piper unfroze him. "Stay!"
Erin picked himself up on his feet, but stayed obediently where he was. "You have to come with me to fight with the Winter Queen and her wolf army."
"I thought you said you meant us no harm. Fighting wolves sounds pretty harmful to me." She tried to put Chris down, but he clung stubbornly to her.
"Yes, but I promised to enlist the most powerful, good witches there are to help save Christmas."
"And that help would be needed…when, exactly?"
Erin mistook Piper's bright smile for a positive response. "Oh, you must come with me to the North Pole at once."
"North Pole?" Piper briefly closed her eyes. "Okay, first of all, we're off duty. Secondly, I am booked solid for the holidays anyway, and frankly, I'm already sick and tired of the entire season. It only brings out the worst in people, so why would I even want to save Christmas?"
"But…you must… You're the Charmed Ones!" The elf cowered under Piper's sudden glare.
"The answer is no. I advise you to go look for help elsewhere, because we are just not available for saving the world anymore." With that, she swung away to leave.
"But… but…Santa needs your help!" Erin started after her but stopped abruptly as Piper swung back. "It's imperative that the Spirit of Christmas returns. People need to believe there is still good in the world."
"I Don't Care." The remnants of a log that had rolled out of the fireplace, exploded with an unexpected loud bang, startling Chris back into tears. "Now look, what the mean elf made mommy do."
Bewildered and confused, Erin backed into the fireplace. "She's already gotten to you," he moaned.
Piper glared at him. "Don't let the damper hit you on your way out."
With a mournful look, the elf closed his eyes and disappeared up the chimney.
At a total loss for what to do, Erin leaned back against the chimney. This was not supposed to happen! If the Charmed Ones wouldn't help, where would he find someone powerful enough who would? He didn't have much time either. If the Winter Queen wasn't defeated before midnight Christmas Eve, eternal winter would fall over the minds of men, and evil would rule the world for a hundred years.
Digging in his pocket, Erin fished out a handful of what looked like snowflakes. He tossed them in his hand a couple of times, as if he contemplated their weight, then he tossed them up high in the air. "Show me where I can find what I seek!"
The snowflakes whirled in the air, slowly swirling toward the roof-tiles beneath his feet, where they landed in an intricate pattern. Erin frowned at it. "That can't be right," he muttered, scooped up the flakes and repeated the procedure. When he had gained the same result three times, he gave up. Putting the snowflakes back in his pocket, Erin took a deep breath. "Well, here goes nothing," he said, closed his eyes, and disappeared in a puff of snow.
"Piper? We're home." When no one answered, Leo removed Wyatt's jacket and shoes, and went looking for his wife. Seeing the mess in the empty kitchen, he worriedly called out again and started searching the house. In the sunroom he found Piper and Chris. "Piper? Are you okay?"
"I am now. Chris isn't. Do you think you could call Paige to come and heal his burn?"
Leo looked at the red, blistering hand, and then at the disaster area around the fire place, and frowned worriedly. "No demons, I hope."
"Just a hellish day. If you could take Chris, I'll go and clean up the kitchen. Oh, and we need a new smoke alarm."
Puzzled, Leo cradled his youngest son. "Maybe I have some news to cheer you up with then. I ran into your dad today. He wondered if we wanted to join him for Christmas. Apparently, he won the lottery for using the company's big cabin in Aspen, and he said we could all join him. I think it would be a great idea and the boys would love a white Christmas."
"Isn't that just swell," Piper said blankly and disappeared into the kitchen.
The atmosphere was – to put it mildly – tense.
Paige had healed Chris's hand and the two boys were happily playing on the floor, while their parents and aunts gathered around the table. Piper was eerily calm and collected, which had at least Phoebe very apprehensive.
"We can't be everywhere," the eldest Halliwell was saying. "Either we choose one, or we split up."
"But you just said you can't close P3," Phoebe pointed out. "There's not much choice in that."
"Yes, there is. You decide what you want to do and where you want to be, and I will be at the club. It's as simple as pie."
"I don't understand," Paige burst out. "Yesterday you were all mushy about an old-fashioned, family Christmas, and now you want to skip it all together?"
"I don't want to 'skip it'" Piper said, eyes on her sons. "I just don't see the point in everyone being miserable on Christmas Eve. No matter what we decide on, I still have to stay here and keep the club open, and you would be here staring at each other, all wishing you were someplace else."
"But we wouldn't be sitting here," Phoebe assured her. "We would be helping you out at P3, and we'd still get to celebrate Christmas together."
"Not Wyatt and Chris. And someone will have to stay with them." Piper took a deep breath. "Look, I appreciate what you are trying to do here, but I've made up my mind and I am not going to ruin everybody's Christmas. I want you to go. Leo, take the boys to dad and give them a white Christmas! Paige, go to New York and hug Billie from me! Phoebe, please go to Hollywood and be in a big show. It's what you've dreamt about all your life."
Her husband and sisters shared a long, reluctant look.
"But what about you?" Leo finally said.
"I have booked up a big party who wants a 'Christmas free' Christmas, and to tell you the truth; I'm looking forward to it. With the lot of you out of the house, I can plan this in peace and quiet and I won't have a nervous breakdown because I have to do two Christmas parties. Frankly? I'm sick and tired of Christmas right now."
There was another very long silence.
"Are you really sure about this?" Phoebe finally said.
"Consider this my Christmas gift to all of you, and we can all get together for New Year's Eve instead. Okay?"