The Christmas Company. Alys Murray

      Around her, the room erupted into conversation and denials, questions and protestations, each more vehement and heartbreaking than the last. But Kate remained squarely focused on their executioner as he dealt the final death blows, not caring if they could hear him over their distressed chatter.

      “All salaried and hourly staff will receive a generous severance package, and I will remain in town for the next few weeks as I oversee the dissolution of the company. Any questions can be directed to the phone number found on your severance letters, which will be in the mail in the next five to seven days. We thank you for your years of service.”

      With the crowd still reeling from the announcement, he stepped down from the microphone and moved to leave the room. Just like that. Without any warning and without any apologies, he marched down the hall’s middle aisle towards the front door. People watched him as he passed, still talking among themselves, but no one said or did anything to stop him, not even Kate. She watched his mirror-shine shoes take command of the floor as if he owned the land he walked on. Step, step, step, step. It beat the tune of a song no one wanted to sing, the song of finality. A song that ended with the slam of the chamber doors behind him.

      When there was nothing left of him but the faint whisper of cold air, the assembled crowd turned back towards Miss Carolyn. Some of them surely caught Kate in the periphery of their gazes, but she, too, stared at the weathered old woman for some sort of comfort. Miss Carolyn always had a plan. She had a plan and contingency for every scenario. The hall was silent. Kate couldn’t even hear her own breathing. Everyone waited for Miss Carolyn’s wisdom to save them.

      But when she didn’t speak and instead turned to Kate with wide, wet eyes, the younger woman understood their wished-for wisdom would never come. The dread fluttering in Kate’s stomach turned to lead as the reality of their situation fully sank in. If Miss Carolyn didn’t know how to save them, they’d already lost.

      “I,” she began, her voice wavering from tears. The room seemed to lean in. Here it was. The big speech to rally the town and save Christmas. She opened her mouth once. Then twice. She scanned the room, meeting the expectant eyes gazing at her.

      And then, just when everyone thought she’d give them all the answers, Miss Carolyn slumped. A wrinkled hand ran its way through her hair and she sighed deep enough and defeated enough for all of them combined. “I’m tired. I think I’m going home. Y’all should, too.”

      For a moment, no one obeyed. They waited for a punchline, for a “just kidding. Let’s go punch the big city rat until he gives us what’s ours.” She met their hope with nothing but silence. Slowly people stood and collected their things, muttering well wishes for the season to their friends and neighbors.

      Kate didn’t move. Every time she blinked, more of her life crumbled before her. There would be no Christmas Eve festival tomorrow night. There would be no Christmas celebration. Scrooge would never again sing. The town would never celebrate its nightly tree lighting ceremony again. Friendships forged over the festival would dissolve. Some families would lose their main livelihood, others their supplemental income and others still would lose a reason to stay alive through the winter. The charities they supported would go unfunded. The town might not even survive without the tourist income. Kate’s found family would disintegrate, just like that. Everything was lost.

      As the thought occurred to her, a little sniffle made itself known. It was so clear and so loud she couldn’t ignore it. Kate turned to find little Bradley hiding his tears behind his Tiny Tim cane. Kate wondered briefly how many other children had worn that cap before him. How many lives had been changed by those children? What would those people have been without the festival?

      Who would she be without the festival?

      The questions were more convicting than the answers, and the brain-piercing goodbyes of her chosen family were one big key turning the ignition of her fury. This was her family. No one was going to tear it apart, not as long as she had a say.

      “Stay here, Miss Carolyn.”

      “Kate…what are you doing?”

      Miss Carolyn’s question wasn’t going to stop her. Kate apparently no longer had a job to lose; she no longer had to listen. These people were her family, her community, and she wasn’t going to stand by while some stick-in-the-mud Dallas boy tried to tear them apart and make this world a little bit worse.

      With a spine as straight as a flagpole and chin held twice as high, she stormed out of the Miller’s Point Town Hall. Her hammering heart joined the steady rap of her shoes as she jogged down the front steps towards the shadowed figure in the black sport coat.

      “Hey!”

      He was the only one on the street, hence the only one she possibly could have been talking to, but he didn’t respond to her hail. The flames of frustration and anger licked at the back of her neck, threatening to consume her. She tried to keep them at bay and maintain some semblance of coolness—the last thing she wanted was to be accused of being an emotional or irrational woman by this stranger—but it was next to impossible. When she thought about all the lives this one tiny decision would touch, it burned up every sense of rational control she possessed.

      “Hey, Woodward!”

      Was it the use of his name, her razor-sharp tone or the whipping wind that caused him to tense up like that? Kate didn’t care as long as he paid attention to her. She closed the small space between them, catching up to him just in front of the Scrooge and Marley office. During the off-season, it served as a general store, but she called it the Money-House all year round. Not even the sight of it, which usually sent a thrill of sentimentality through her, could calm her now. When he didn’t turn to face her, she took the liberty of hopping down off of the curb so she stood directly in his eye line. This forced her to gaze up at him, but she didn’t think there was anything doe-eyed about her. If anything, she felt like an avenging Valkyrie, riding for justice. No one, not even this arrogant stranger, would make the mistake of underestimating her.

      “What do you think you’re doing?”

      His face remained as composed and disinterested as ever, but Kate spied the fingers of his right fist clenching and unclenching. She almost smiled. He had a tell; something was bothering him.

      “I’m looking for my car,” he announced.

      “Your car?”

      “Yeah, I parked my car here,” he pointed to an empty space in front of Town Hall, “earlier today and now it’s gone. It’s a rental.”

      “It got towed, then.”

      “Towed?”

      “We don’t allow cars in town during the festival. It ruins the illusion.”

      Kate almost laughed as she said it, but quelled the urge to do so by crossing her shivering arms over her chest. Everyone with half a brain knew no cars could come into town during the festival. It was on every brochure and article ever written about their little Christmas town; plus, the Martins made a tidy penny renting out their field as a parking lot during the winter. Yet another source of income they’d lose if this guy managed to go through with his plan.

      “You should be thanking me, then. I’m modernizing the place already.” His tone managed to be smug even as she wondered if the slight shrink of his shoulders meant he may not entirely believe that. “Who do I call about getting it back?”

      What arrogance! She’d come out here to give him a piece of her mind and he had the audacity to ask her about his car?

      “I don’t think you’re going anywhere until you give us some answers.”

      “With all due respect, I don’t owe you answers.”

      “Oh, really?”

      “For my years of service focusing on profitable divisions of his business, my uncle left me the company and I’m doing my best to protect his legacy.”

      “His legacy? Look around you! This is his legacy!”

      She