Word went out on Main Street. Within an hour we had children and their parents in a line outside the door, waiting to come in and meet the ‘Sugarplum Fairy’. We were so busy that mom called my brothers and step-dad in to help with crowd control. Kevin, who was home on break from college, ran the register. Mom took orders, and wrapped up poinsettias and flowers, and teenage Eddie kept replenishing poinsettias, or wreaths from the back, or bagging purchases whenever necessary.
My step-father Karl, a retired fire-fighter, cheerfully worked crowd control and kept the head count inside from exceeding our maximum limit.
A little before dinner time the crowd had begun to dwindle, and we took advantage of the lull. Karl and Mom refreshed displays and put out more poinsettias. Kevin and Eddie placed the luminaries out front on the sidewalk and lit them. My friend Candice dropped off the cakepops and cookies we’d special ordered from her bakery, and I gave Marie a call, asking her to give me a touch up.
“I think the makeup got worn off from the hugs of all the little kids,” I said, sitting in Mom’s office with a towel over my blouse.
“I hear you’ve been quite the sensation on Main Street today,” Marie said.
“It’s been fun.” My eyes were closed as she reattached one of the eyelashes that was coming loose. “The makeup and hair are amazing.”
Marie started to reset the makeup with an iridescent powder and a fluffy brush. “You should know, Spirit says: changes are coming to your world.”
I shut my eyes against the powder. “Tell Spirit that I don’t have time for that during the holiday season.”
“You’re not going to have a choice, honey.” Marie patted my shoulder, signaling that she was finished.
I batted my eyes a few times, testing the eyelashes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Violet.” Marie’s voice was low and amused. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With a wink she left.
I didn’t have much time to wonder or worry over her cryptic words. Night had fallen, and the Christmas lights on Main Street blinked to life. The judges would be out on the first night of the festivities, and a whole new batch of shoppers and Holiday Happening attendees had arrived to enjoy the lights, the decorations, and to see all the luminaries up and down the street.
The rest of the evening passed in a whirl and rush. The judges came in to review the store’s decorations, and I noted some fairly impressed reactions from them. Finally my brothers headed home, and Mom and Karl began to gather up their things.
My mother stood, wringing her hands behind the counter. “Do you think the judges really liked it?”
“Cora, relax,” my step-father said, holding out her coat for her. “The store is beautiful.”
“I’m telling you,” I said, rearranging the last of the sweets on the main table, “we’ve got this contest in the bag. When Kevin ran a report an hour ago he said we’d broken our sales records.”
“Are you sure you’re alright to stay and close up alone?” she asked.
“Mom, it’s almost nine o’clock. The crowd has thinned out.” It took fifteen more minutes, but I managed to shoo Mom and Karl out the back door. I locked it behind them and enjoyed the quiet for the first time in several hours.
I worked my way up front, straightening as I went. Finally I made it to the front door, opened it and checked up and down Main Street. Sure enough we were down to the last of the die hard shoppers. I took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp, cold air. As I flipped the sign over to ‘Closed’, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
A child stood staring into our shop’s front window. Alone.
I swung my gaze around. There was no one else close by. “Sweetie, where are your parents?” I asked.
The child turned and smiled. I could see blonde hair tufting out from under a striped knit cap. “I wanted to see the Sugarplum Fairy,” the child said. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”
“Well, here I am,” I said. “Why don’t you come inside and out of the cold.” I held out my hand and chilled little fingers clasped mine. Get her out of the cold, first, I thought. Figure out who she is, and then call the police...
I let the door shut behind us, and the child went directly to the table that held the sweets. “Are these sugarplums?” she asked through chattering teeth and grabbed one of the remaining cakepops from the tray.
“Of course.” I touched the girl’s face and found it icy. “Let’s get you warmed up.” I picked her up, set her on the tall work station and grabbed my mother’s thick cardigan from her chair. I wrapped the child up in it.
She bit into a cakepop and made a happy sound. “I told my daddy that you were real.” Her voice sounded a little smug, and even though she shivered, my first impression of a poor, frightened, lost child shifted.
“What’s your name, honey?” I asked.
“Charlotte,” she said over a mouthful of cakepop. “Charlotte Leigh.”
“Okay, Charlie,” I said.
She giggled over that. “Nobody calls me Charlie.”
“Well, the Sugarplum Fairy does as she pleases.” I winked at her. “Where’s your mom and dad? I bet they’re pretty worried about you.” I glanced towards the window in case a desperate parent was running past. But there was no one.
“My daddy wandered off,” Charlie said, matter-of-factly. “He does that sometimes.”
My stomach clutched in sympathy. “Would you like some water to drink?” I asked her while the music in the store cued up to Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy”.
“Sure.” Charlie began to swing her feet back and forth in time to the music. “I like this song,” she announced.
I got a bottle of water out of the mini fridge, twisted off the top and
