Chapter Ten – Forget about all the not-so-happy-stuff
The first week with Scott Calvin was one of the strangest weeks of her life. Molly felt as if she was in a fog for most of it, still attempting to adjust to this new reality. She was amazed at how clean Calvin was. He was a neat freak. In watching the movies throughout her life, Molly had always just assumed he hired house cleaners. But she quickly discovered, after setting a coffee on the end table without a coaster, that Calvin was obsessed with a clean place.
"No coaster, no coffee," he had grunted, tossing her a dish cloth to wash the small ring while he went and got her a coaster.
Perhaps the biggest surprise had been how kind he was when he wasn't hiding behind his cocky, businessman complex. She shouldn't have been caught totally off guard, since by the second movie his kindness shone through, but Molly had always attributed that to his becoming Santa.
It made sense, though. There had to be something that had compelled Laura to fall in love with him, something beyond the subpar personality he exhibited in the movies.
Most of her time was spent settling in – things like figuring out the method to the madness of his kitchen, identifying the nearest grocery store, and what amenities were nearby. So far, her favourite find had been a quaint bookstore a few blocks away, featuring a small coffee shop as an extension. Taking the time to read, to go somewhere outside of the house, gave her time to escape the crushing loneliness she had been starting to feel so far away from friends, family, or her elven acquaintances.
Even though it had only been a week, it had been enough time for the total reality of her situation to set in. She might never see her family, her friends, her dog, or her school again. Her hopes and dreams for the life she wanted to live might never be realized if this world was where she would remain. And, of course, it was still difficult to accept that the world she had always dreamed of being sucked into wasn't filled with as much sunshine and rainbows as she had hoped.
She soon settled into a routine of visiting the bookstore after finishing dinner prep in the early afternoon. The walk took about twenty minutes, crossing through the busy residential neighbourhood and into a small commercial area with a few shops, a couple restaurants, and a grocery store.
Molly was thrilled to make the walk, most days, but it was rang even truer on this particular day. The sun was shining brightly, cutting the cruelty out of the cold air. Snow crunched under her feet, and her breath fogged in front of her as she walked. During her first trip there, she was pleased to discover the books seemed to be pretty much the same as from her world and had picked up a couple that had been on her to-read list for a while.
She clutched The Count of Monte Cristo to her chest while she walked, looking forward to the snuggling into the corner table with the comfy bean bag chair and a hot coffee.
The bells on the door chimed as she entered, and the daytime barista, whose name she had learned was Jed, flashed her a smile. In her many visits, Molly had learned that Jed attended evening classes at the local community college. She had to admit she had begun to look forward to conversations with them, and had at times wondered if the attractive barista, with short, sandy brown hair and thick-rimmed black glasses, might be a good way to try and forget about Bernard.
The café and bookstore smelled of damp must and crisp paper, the kind of smell one hoped to find in an old library or store. It was the alluring smell of books, the one that gave a sense of warmth and comfort.
"Back again?" Jed asked as Molly shook off the snow from her jacket, and hung it on a coat-tree near the door.
"It's the best spot to read in town," she replied cheerfully, heading to her usual spot. The solace provided by positioning herself in a corner, by a window where the world felt open and accessible, almost made her feel like she was home again. She always took a similar position when out on 'writing dates' with her friends at any of the coffee shops in their small town. Something about it fostered creativity and took her away from the real world as much as it made her feel like part of it.
It was nice having a place that felt familiar to her, where people knew what her order was, and were content to let her disappear into a book for a while.
A few moments later, Jed brought over her steaming coffee.
"I added a splash of hazelnut on the house."
Molly smiled, inhaling the deep, nutty scent of the hazelnut mixing with the fragrant aroma of the espresso. One of her favourite smells in the world. "Thanks, Jed. That's sweet."
Jed nodded, glancing at her book with interest. "The Count of Monte Cristo, huh?"
"I've only ever read it in French before, and I really wanted to read the English version to compare. The French version was beautiful, but it can be hard to fully appreciate the depth of the story when you're trying to translate it as you read."
Jed crossed their arms, looking impressed. "In French? Was this just for fun or?"
"Oh, goodness no! I love French, and I'm fairly fluent, but when I read it's for pure enjoyment. This was for a school assignment in high school. We had to read it in French and do a book report. It was quite the challenge."
"I can imagine." They smiled again. "I'll let you get off to historic France then."
Molly took a sip of her latte before diving into her book. She was several pages in when someone nearby cleared their throat.
"Is this seat taken?"
Bernard's voice sounded like music to her ears, and though she tried to stop the slight flutter she felt and quell her excitement, she looked up with a wide smile. Jed was cute, but their appearance didn't make her stomach flop the way Bernard did. The elf had traded his usual outfit for a pair of faded blue jeans and a casual black button-up shirt. His braids had been replaced by long, curly locks of hair that fell across his forehead. She flushed slightly, realizing that she was staring, mesmerized by his dancing eyes.
"Only by you," she stammered, realizing only after the words had left her mouth that it could have sounded flirtatious. She would have kicked herself if she could, mortified that her social awkwardness and anxiety were coming into play. Biting her lip, she prayed she could keep herself calm and her typical anxiety-babble wouldn't trigger from the nerves she was now feeling.
The elf didn't seem to notice as he settled into the bean bag chair across from her. Molly felt her anxiety lessen and internally sighed in relief. Deep breaths, woman. Deep breaths. Bernard reached over and picked up her latte, sniffing it.
"Hazelnut. Nice touch," he commented, then put it down and slid it back towards her. His eyes lingered for a moment on her book, eyebrow momentarily raising, before he looked at her directly.
"So how have things been going?"
Molly snorted a laugh in reaction. "This is by far the most ridiculous thing I have done in my life. Seriously, how he believes this entire thing is beyond me. He hasn't even questioned our story once."
"Maybe it's Christmas magic?"
Molly glanced up to see if Bernard meant it or if he was being facetious. The expression on his face was completely serious. Her internal desire for magic to exist was currently at battle with her logical half, the part that still couldn't fully believe any of this was real. And even when she could accept it, even in recognizing she was in a place where magic thrived, her logical side still could not accept the actual involvement of magic in everyday life.
As that logic won the internal argument, she blinked and said, "You're kidding, right?"
"I don't kid about Christmas magic," he said quietly. Much to Molly's relief, he didn't look offended – just serious. Contemplative, even. "Some of it can be explained, like the way it works through us. But other aspects? It is its own life form, its own entity. Christmas magic has caused some pretty incredible, unexplainable things before."
A pensive expression crossed Molly's face for a moment as she pondered his words. The movies had never delved into anything beyond the limited access of Santa and the elves. The only thing she really knew was that it was the belief of children around the world that gave the magic continued life.
"Would Santa's magic begin to work even before he fully accepts who is he?"
"Yes, the moment he puts on the suit and accepts the clause. The entire transfer begins immediately." Cocking his head to the side, Bernard smiled, realizing where she was going with this. "The magic could be making him believe what he needs to believe."
She found herself silently thanking whoever was in charge of this world, of this universe, for this small gift. She honestly didn't know what she would have done if the council had merely bid her to find a new life, or if Scott hadn't bought the ridiculous lie. And while there was so much she needed to figure out, at least this was working out in her favour.
"Well, at least someone – or something – is on my side here."
Hours after Bernard had returned to Elfsburg, he had not been able to stop thinking about what Molly had said.
At least someone – or something – is on my side here.
When she had spoken those words, her voice had faltered with a sense of weariness, though Bernard wasn't sure she was aware it had. He sat on his couch; the blanket Molly had used when she slept there was now wrapped around him. He hadn't kept it out on purpose, and the chill seemed to be getting to him as he replayed the conversation over in his mind. The blanket still faintly smelled of her, a faint scent of lavender and vanilla that he attributed to whatever shampoo she had used in her world.
The moment she had looked up at him from her book, he had detected the darkness in her eyes – the same darkness he had detected when she first left Elfsburg, only now far more apparent. He didn't have to wonder why that cloud of sadness and depression seemed to be growing around her and he kicked himself for not having thought about the risk of it sooner. She was alone in an unknown world. While a week might not be long in some ways, to suddenly be in an unfamiliar place without anyone to reach out to… well, it made sense why she seemed to be struggling the way she was.
Bernard hadn't wanted to wait a whole week before seeing her but had told himself it would be better for her to have a chance to settle in.
Now, he kicked himself, realizing the choice was the wrong one. He didn't want to admit it, but part of his absence was the fear she created in him. They hadn't known each other long and yet he already found himself drawn to her and wanting to be around her. He felt as though they had connected on a deeper level, found an understanding in one another, and that terrified him.
He recalled for a moment when Judy had excitedly told him about elf she had just met in wrapping, describing how they hit it off immediately, the attraction and electricity between them evident from the moment they locked eyes.
"It was like our souls somehow knew each other and rejoiced immediately at meeting once again," she had said.
Bernard didn't know that he would go quite that far with Molly, but he couldn't deny that something had sparked between them from the moment they had met. Even amidst the near-literal sparks of their argument.
There was a sharp rap at his door, and almost as if summoned by his thoughts, Judy poked her head inside.
"You seemed really distracted when you got back, so I thought you could use some cocoa and a friend," she said, smiling as she approached with a large travel mug of hot cocoa in her hand.
Bernard thanked her and popped open the lid, inhaling the sweet scent before taking a big gulp. It was a soothing taste and Bernard felt himself relax slightly.
"I'm guessing this has to do with a certain human?" Judy's eyes twinkled as she tucked her feet underneath her on the chair and settled in.
With a sigh, Bernard gripped his mug in both hands. "How much time do you have?"