Kaitlyn’s Christmas: A Short Story

Kaitlyn’s Christmas

It’s Kaitlyn’s first post-college Christmas, and she is looking forward to spending it at her beloved Nana’s farm in rural Tennessee. For the first time, Kaitlyn can afford to buy Nana store-bought gifts from money earned from her first “real world” job. But Kaitlyn’s old car has different ideas and stalls out on the cold and snow Christmas Eve.

Will Santa bring Kaitlyn her own sweet Christmas surprise? Maybe a second shot at love?



Kaitlyn’s Christmas: A Short Story

By: Stephanie L. Robertson

Kaitlyn Ridgeway breathed on her cold hands. How she wished she had taken time to stop and buy winter gloves after she’d got off work that night.

It was Christmas Eve—the first Christmas that Kaitlyn had been able to afford store-bought presents to take home to Nana. For the past four years, Kaitlyn had struggled to pay herself through college without going into debt. Nana had always instilled a debt-free philosophy in the young woman, who had lived with her grandmother ever since her parents had died.

Now Kaitlyn lived in Nashville, Tennessee and worked at a publishing company as an editorial assistant.

Kaitlyn had imagined a glamourous post-college life for herself—living in a trendy Germantown studio apartment, listening to live bands with a cool group of friends and a special guy, meeting authors at quirky coffee shops….

What she got was a stiff reality check. Instead of her interesting little apartment with a reading nook, Kaitlyn rented an upstairs bedroom from Mrs. Reams—and Mrs. Reams’ chihuahua barked nonstop. It was not a very romantic existence, to say the least.

And now Kaitlyn would be the first to admit that she had suffered from selective hearing at her job interview last spring at the large publishing company where she currently worked. She had ignored some key words: filing, maintaining a database, and scheduling appointments. Instead, she’d only heard “potential for growth” and “point-of-contact for authors.” In addition, her editor was not a patient or pleasant person to work for.

Still, she was getting paid and hoped to move up in the company. So far, she hadn’t had much of a chance to meet new people.

At that moment, she was just happy to make it home to Nana’s farm in Loretto, Tennessee—population 1714. Loretto was southwest of Nashville, almost to the Alabama state line and two hours from Nashville.

Kaitlyn couldn’t wait to get home. She had carefully selected several gifts that Nana would love. For the first time, the gifts were store-bought instead of handmade.
Nana would be so proud!

Kaitlyn longed to get back to the farm to her beloved grandmother. Kaitlyn longed to love on Nana’s scraggly one-eyed Grizabella, who would lie close to Nana’s old easy chair and purr while Nana quilted.

Nana kept a motley coup of chickens, a few barn cats, and Henry, the old pony that Kaitlyn used to ride until her feet nearly reached the ground.
Now Kaitlyn was driving a beat-up Toyota Celica that leaked antifreeze. She would eventually have to buy a new car, but she could walk or ride her bike to work. At the same time, she couldn’t ride her bike to Nana’s.

Kaitlyn dreamed of owning a 1965 Mustang. She was thinking of this while sputtering along at only fifty-five miles per hour.

Then it began to snow.

“Now that is just great!” muttered Kaitlyn and turned on the wipers. Or should she say “wiper.” Only one worked.

She was literally in the middle of nowhere. Though she knew these roads like a human GPS, Kaitlyn wondered if the Celica could make it.
The car finally stalled out somewhere between “kin and kain’t” as Nana would say.

Kaitlyn let out a cry of frustration. There was nothing around for miles. Snow accumulated on the Celica’s windshield, and the darkness deepened.
“Maybe I can start it up again after I give it a little rest,” thought Kaitlyn. She wrapped her quilts around her tighter. It was cold. Seriously cold. She tried the ignition again.

Nothing.

Kaitlyn pulled her cell phone from her purse. She hated to call the police for help. But she had no choice, and she certainly didn’t want Nana driving in the snow.
Headlights shone over the next rise, and a vehicle came to a stop in front of Kaitlyn.

She began to dial 9-1-1 but stopped herself when she saw Santa Claus step from the vehicle.

She had to laugh at the situation.

She rolled her window down an inch or so.

“Ho, ho, ho! Do you need a charge?” called the Santa.

“I don’t think that’s going to help this beater out tonight. I think it’s dead.”

“Is that you, Kaitlyn Ridgeway?” asked Santa, after he approached her car.

Kaitlyn’s eyes registered disbelief. “Is that you—Santa?”

“No,” said Santa and pulled down his snowy white beard. “It’s Jeff Stanton—from Loretto High.”

Instantly, a flood of memories rushed back to Kaitlyn’s first love from way back in 9th grade. The two had gotten along so well together, but they lost touch after Jeff’s family moved to Alabama.

“Jeff? What are you doing out here?” Kaitlyn smiled. Why hadn’t she thought to look him up on Facebook before?

“I’m heading to Florence to deliver some toys to the hospitalized kids at Helen Keller Hospital before going home to Mom and Dad’s. What about you?”

“Going home to Nana’s.”

“Well, I’m getting a little bit cold standing out here in the snow. Why don’t I give you a lift and we can call a tow for your car?”

Without hesitating, Kaitlyn opened her car door. She gave Santa Jeff an awkward embrace and together they transferred the presents and luggage from the Celica to Jeff’s car.

Unlike her own car, Jeff’s was warm as toast.

Kaitlyn held her hands up to the heating vent to defrost them.

Before driving away, Jeff looked up a towing service, but the only ones were several miles away and closed for Christmas.

Kaitlyn took a surreptitious glance at Jeff’s hand. No ring. She hoped the guy wasn’t in a relationship. She immediately felt embarrassed for thinking such a thing. Then, looking around at the vehicle’s interior, she asked, “Is this a 1965 Mustang?”

“How did you know?”

“Just thought it looked like one,” said Kaitlyn, who spent a great deal of time looking up the model on the Internet.

It seemed like the miles passed to soon before Jeff pulled his car into Nana’s driveway. Nana’s Christmas tree gleamed merry and bright from a front window in Nana’s cozy little farmhouse.

“Mind if I call you sometime?” asked Jeff, looking down at Kaitlyn’s left hand.

Kaitlyn said, “I’d like that. Just look me up on Facebook…you know my name, Santa.”

Jeff grinned. “Merry Christmas, Kaitlyn.”

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Top Ten Christmas Activities

What are your top ten Christmas activities?  I’m listing mine below  (in no particular order) and would love to hear from you!  Merry Christmas, and God bless us, everyone!

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Decorating the Christmas Tree and our whole house for Christmas.

I so enjoy home décor, period, but I get so much joy in pulling out meaningful ornaments and making my Christmas trees pretty.  I had planned to buy another tree for my dining room, but they were so expensive that I decided to wait for the after-Christmas sales.

Fortunately, my next-door-neighbors were tossing their tree because the lights weren’t working anymore.  They said I could have it, so I drug it across the street and put new lights on it.  I used only silver ornaments, while we used the other ornaments on our living room tree.  My “silver tree” is so beautiful–one of the prettiest I’ve ever had.  It lights up the whole dining room with it’s white lights and silver elegance.  (At least I think so!)

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Hearing my husband read the story of Jesus’s birth in Luke 2:1-20.

The story of Jesus’s birth is so beautiful.  The verses are like a balm in their rhythm and the hope they give us in our world.  I think people are more generous and kind at this time of year because so much is focused on our Lord, the Light of our complex world.

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Baking Christmas goodies

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Grandmother Lindsey (who lived just across the pasture from us, when I was growing up in rural south Alabama) used to always make the best in sweet Christmas goodies.  My favorite were her date balls, fudge, and divinity.  When I was supposed to be practicing the piano, I’d go swipe a piece between songs.  But I think she knew about it! 😉

Shopping for Christmas gifts for everyone.

Carefully selecting Christmas gifts for everyone is a favorite hobby of mine.  I like to get the best gifts at the best prices and be a good steward of my cash.

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Crafting hand-made presents for family and friends.  Being crafty in wrapping gifts.

I am in my element, my happy place, my zone when I’m making presents for family, friends, and Princess Buttercup’s teachers.  Furthermore, I like adding just a little bit of creativity when wrapping my gifts.  I’d better get on it, actually.  I’ve got only 2 weeks till show time!

Singing Christmas carols.

We went caroling last year.  I did that for the first time when I was in college and loved it!  I want to get a brave group to sing in our new (as of June 2016) neighborhood.  Any volunteers?

Spending time with family and friends.

Spending time with those I love makes Christmas a special time for bonding and building memories.  It’s the time of the year that Lefty takes time off of work, and Princess Buttercup and I love that!

Opening presents.

I’ve gotta be honest…opening presents is just plain fun!

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Silver snowflake, a gift from my friend Kibbers.

Attending all the parties and eating all the good food!

We southerners are known for our food.  It just wouldn’t be Christmas without the feasting.

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Smiling and saying, “Merry Christmas” to people I meet.
</h1>Like I said for my second activity on the list, people are so much friendlier around Christmas time.  True, traffic can be a nuisance.  And true, we’re southerners, and people from other places say that we’re friendly, anyway.  But I think people are kinder around Christmas because so many more are thinking of the Light of the world, Jesus Christ.

Fall Leaves on Rainbow Mountain

This morning my friend Kibbs and I took a hike to see the fall leaves on Rainbow Mountain. Kibbs is a Christian wife and mom, a writer, and a very close friend.  Not only do I enjoy hiking for exercise, I love to see the beautiful fall leaves all over the ground.

Fall Leaves on Rainbow Mountain

What the Fall Leaves Teach us about People

After about an hour of hiking, Kibbs and I started thinking about all those different leaves all over the ground.You know, those leaves on the ground are kind of like people.  You see all sorts of shapes, colors, and textures–and they’re all beautiful in their own way!It’s hard to find a perfect leaf. For example, one leaf may have a bunch of different colors. Some have holes in them. Some have broken points. We’ve all got flaws, and it’s not like we the peeps we see on tv with perfect hair and flawless skin.

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 What the Fall Leaves Teach us about Life

It’s kinda like us, isn’t it?Our lives aren’t perfect, our families aren’t perfect…but everything seems to come together on this one beautiful rock called Earth.

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What I’ve been Taught about Fall Leaves

Here’s one more thing about leaves…If you mow them into tiny bits rather than rake them, you’ve nourished your soil with a great source of nitrogen!  I’m one of the few in my neighborhood that doesn’t rake up all the fall leaves.  First of all, they are fun to toss at other family members, the pups like playing in them, I like the music they make under my boots, and I just think they’re really pretty.  So there’s your excuse for not raking this season.  Mow them instead for the sake of your soil.Happy Fall, Y’all!

Shelby’s Thanksgiving Intervention — A Short Story

Today I wrote a short story from a Thanksgiving writer’s prompt at Writer’s Digest:  Shelby’s Thanksgiving Intervention — Short Story.  I found the turkey craft here at “11 Best Turkey Crafts for Kids.”

Hope you enjoy!

Thanksgiving paper turkey craft
Shelby’s Thanksgiving Intervention
(Or, Now Who’s the Turkey??)

By: Stephanie L. Robertson

Thanksgiving is my favorite time of the year with its beautiful fall leaves and sumptuous feasting.  I was looking forward to another Thanksgiving feast à la Mom.

“We’ll just go ahead,” said my husband, Ben, as he stepped from the car and grabbed the hands of my two younger kids.

“Ouch, Dad, that hurts,” cried my seven-year-old, Wendy.

“Sh!” said Ben as he let go Wendy’s hand and pushed her and Pete inside Mom and Dad’s house without the usual courtesy of knocking.

“Now that was just weird,” I said to my older son, Jesse.  “Do you want to help me carry in one of the casseroles? Looks like Dad isn’t going to help.”

Jesse looked at me from the corner of his eyes.  His voice shook a little.  “Uh, Mom, I’ve got to go!”

Then he sprinted toward large brick house without a second glance.

I shrugged and juggled all three casserole dishes, shutting the hatch of our SUV with my left foot.

With the assortment of cars and trucks parked in the driveway, it looked as though all the family was there.

I teetered up the steps of the house and yelled through my parents’ heavy mahogany door, “Hey!  Can someone lend a hand?”

The door swung open.

The entire family was sitting in the living room, all eyes were on me.

But instead of a Thanksgiving turkey, there was a giant “Intervention” sign hanging across the mantle.

“Shelby,” said my mother quietly, “We’ve got to talk.”

I felt all three casserole dishes fall to the hardwood floor as I stared back in shock.

“Shelby, you have spent entirely too much time writing for that NANOWRIMO, to the detriment of your family,” said Ben.

“Instead of having Thanksgiving this year, we’re asking that you admit yourself to Writer’s Recovery in Tucson, Arizona,” said Dad.

“Shelby, we want you to come back to us—the way you used to be!” sobbed my sister, Jane.

“You’ll take a flight to Tucson and spend two weeks at the Three Points Resort and Spa for the duration of your recovery,” said my cousin Fred.  “The brochure says the resort features pool-side light therapy, Jungian horseback-riding counseling, and massage transaction analysis.”

Please, Shelby, we want you to come home completely intervened.  No work for two weeks, dear. We’re begging you.”

Shelby didn’t think twice.  “Okay.  I’m in!”

Thanksgiving text with fall letters: Now Who's the Turkey??

Writing prompt source:  http://www.writersdigest.com/prompts/thanksgiving-intervention