Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
I’d only been awake for two hours, and I’d already seen Santa Claus twice. He was the best Santa lookalike that money could buy, and the board spared no expense to find the most authentic staff for The North Pole, located at the end of town. It was the big finish to this place. A five-story wood log cabin that was decked out to look like Santa’s workshop to include pictures with the mystical myth himself, along with the one and only scam artist, his wife, Mrs. Claus. The elves and whoever the hell else added to the cast of Christmas cheer bullshit were most certainly in that building.
Beside it was an ice-skating ring. I used to play hockey in school, and during my senior year, I was the team captain. I lived there while growing up, yet I hadn’t stepped foot in a ring since I left. Something I used to have a passion for turned into an afterthought I only had when I saw a postcard or a movie that involved the sport I once loved.
I couldn’t help but remember all the memories I had trying to teach Noelle how to skate. She had more interest in playing in the snow than skating on it. However, she did love snowboarding, which was a hell of a lot easier for her to learn. She was good on a board, and I wondered if she still enjoyed it as much as she did back then.
Her love for all the seventy-foot Christmas trees through town captivated her the most every year. Each tree had a specific theme. My personal favorite was The Grinch tree near the library. I smiled when I walked by it that morning. Another thing about this supposed magical place was that you could walk everywhere and anywhere. Very few used their vehicles. Most went by foot or bikes. It was one of the things that made this place so safe from crime and car accidents.
The speed limit through the entire town was restricted to twenty-five miles per hour. However, that was due to all the tourists who would drive their cars through the town to see the lights and displays that were skeptical among the gingerbread houses. There was even a sled driven by the impostor himself and his real-life reindeers, including the star of the show, Rudolph. Of course, you couldn’t forget the train for the Polar Express.
You could literally hear children’s laughter from the sleds and tubing at the Candyland shop, or you could book a ride on a horse and carriage to take through Winter fucking Wonderland. In theory, this place was someone’s paradise and dream come true, but in my reality, it was my own personal hell and worst nightmare that I now owned.
From the time I understood it was all smoke and mirrors, there wasn’t a time I thought Santa was real. Noelle used to say it was my origin story, due to my older cousins spilling the truth without realizing I was there. I knew the truth from the start, and I thanked them for it. Someone had to keep their sanity in a town filled with Christmas cheer twenty-four seven.
If you asked me, I was the Grinch, and I had no problem owning up to it. If anything, I aspire to be left alone. My nickname growing up used to be Grinchy, and I dressed like my misjudged hero every year for Halloween as a kid. I even had a dog named Max who looked like Grinch’s companion. He passed away when I was sixteen, and to this day, I still thought about him. Now I didn’t have time for a dog.
The only time I was home was to sleep or shower. If I wasn’t at my office, I was on a jobsite meeting with clients, roofers, the county and so on and so on. The list of bullshit I had to deal with on the daily was enough to drive any man to drink. Luckily, I never cared for the stuff. Being a carpenter was what I enjoyed the most about my career. I subbed out the rest, yet I still had to deal with managing the project, which was the hardest part of the contract.
My shop was a thirty-five-hundred-square-foot warehouse that held my entire life under the aluminum. I had a stage area along with an area I could work. Since I never took time off, my clients all understood I needed to walk off the job for a few days, and I was able to sneak away until after Christmas.
I sat back against the doorframe and leaned against it after my father and I had an awkward greeting. He barely looked my way, making it obvious he was not pleased with my grandfather’s decision either.
“Welcome, Nicholas,” a board member by the name of Phil greeted, tearing me away from my thoughts.