Love and War: Short Story Collection

Help From the Elf on the Shelf - Sylvaine 8

Help from the Elf on the Shelf - Sylvaine 8



It’s not as easy as it seems. Everyone thinks I magically prepare everything – food, decorations, and the whole shebang, but I have worked hard on every detail. The secret is in looking great on the day itself, with makeup and my best dress on. What most don’t know is that right after the holidays last year, I already started obsessing about what I’d do for this year. By September, I’ve already bought what I needed. If I could marinate meat for more than 24 hours, I would, but I know I shouldn’t.

Fussy. Fussy.

So uptight.

Yeah, that’s what everyone thinks of me.

My boyfriend, Dennis, is the polar opposite. Whenever we go on vacation, he’d start packing hours before the trip even though my luggage was prepared the week before. He doesn’t care much about the details.

“It’s what we end up with that matters,” he said one time with a big grin on his face.

“You mean the end justifies the means?” I asked, my face in mock-horror.

“Yep. Exactly that, Chrissy. You need to lighten up. We’re headed for Cancun in a few hours. You deserve to relax and smile a lot more,” he said, rubbing my shoulders before getting back to stuffing last minute stuff into his luggage at that point when I just wanted him to carry on with the massage.

“Well, you need to make me smile a lot more,” I grumbled, still annoyed with him for always practically ruining my plans.

“Oh, but I do. Don’t I?” He wiggled his eyebrows then, and I was so tempted to tell him that I had been faking orgasms with him all along. Well, most of the times. Lately. It was so much more during our first five years or so. Hungrier. Hotter. More explosive. Lately, we’re just going with the flow. We don’t even have kids yet, and we’re already tired of all the adulting. Our careers. The traveling. The pleasing other people part of our lives.

Everyone’s jealous of the fact that he’s built like an athlete even though he’s an accountant. Looks, brains, and body. I’m pretty lucky, I remind myself. Despite the fact that he doesn’t seem to know how to tell or gauge the time even though he’s obviously good at Math, he’s a nice guy.

Dennis and I have been together most of our lives. We’ve grown up together. We were best friends who denied what we were to each other at first, dating other people, and then realizing that we love each other.

Yes, there’s that. Love. It was explosive at first, when we were younger. Now, we are both nearing thirty and he just seems to roll with it. Plans? I wonder if he has any, I think bitterly. I can’t possibly plan everything for us.

I mash the dough with my bare hands as I wonder what time he’ll be home. To be fair, he’s always on time. It’s around ten, and he should be home by around two. He usually helps me out with the preparations.

We’re having a party tonight, Christmas Eve, and I need a little help. He has a partial off day today at work, and I’ve just decided to take it as a full leave. Christmas Day itself is meant for just the two of us. Tonight, we get to entertain friends and family who want to hang out with us. They usually do it here at the home we’ve been sharing for two years now because I’m a damn good cook.

For the next few hours, I’m focused on preparing the meal. I wonder why I’m doing it at all. Maybe it’s time for me to take a break next year? Ugh, maybe take a break from this relationship? We have been together for over a decade, and friends since we were kids.

“Maybe we need some excitement?” I ask the Elf on the Shelf, who’s looking at me with more mischief than I expect from it. Dennis bought this particular elf from some strange lady on the street, though I teased him about how it looked just like any other mass-produced Elf on the Shelf and sold in shops. In other words, I thought it couldn’t be special. Guilt races through me now when I realize what I’ve done. I’ve lost a taste for appreciating the little things.

“You’re more likely right, Chrissy, but the lady really looked like she needed the sale. I bought this one for a hundred bucks.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!” I exclaimed, although my heart was also melting. Dennis may often be too tired at work to give me what I want in bed, but he’s the kindest person I know.

“Mad?”

“Of course not.”

I smile as I think back to how the elf ended up on our, well, shelf – the one that’s dangerously close to the fireplace. In fact, s**t, the grinning elf looks like its sitting too close to the edge. Thankfully, he won’t end up straight into the fire if he does fall, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t prop him up where he’s sitting now.

Mm.

Okay, let’s get back to regular programming. I’m also pretty happy that the cake, ham, fresh bread, and a lot more are done when the sound of bells assault my senses. We don’t have a doorbell or any ringtone that’s remotely the same sound.

“What in the world? Am I finally going officially nuts?” I mutter, tilting my head toward the direction of the sound.

It’s coming from the fireplace, more specifically from the grinning Elf on the Shelf. I wipe my hands with a clean hand towel and stride towards the little critter. I’m pretty sure all the stress from recently being considered for a senior associate position at the law firm I’ve been working for has taken its toll. They have been dangling the position over me, but I wonder if they just want me to work extra hard. Yep, they know how fussy I am and how they can get me to do senior-level work for a junior associate’s salary.

“But is it enough to make me go cuckoo?” I ask myself. All this talking aloud on my own is certainly making me lean toward a yes. Damn it.

I’m now a few inches from the Elf. The bells sound out again. There goes my sanity. Ever the logical person, I lift the Elf to shake it. It doesn’t make a sound. It’s soft all over and much lighter than it seems to be. There are no hard parts in this little toy, but what else is it but a supposedly magical representation of an entity that’s believed to grant children’s wishes?

“Since we’ve confirmed I’ve gone crazy, can I make a wish?”

Its eyes seem to twinkle, but I know I’m just a tired woman who’s losing the magic of youth to the pressures of my career and what’s expected in steady relationships like Dennis and mine.

“Right. I’m talking to myself. But hear me out. I just want the best Christmas ever,” I whisper, thinking that it’s not asking too much. In fact, some people may think that all my Christmases have been great so far.

They have. But there’s something missing.

Magic.

Once you’ve become an adult, you stop believing in it.

Magic, a teeny voice says. Well, hell, I think I really am going insane. It may be time to check if our insurance covers visits to a therapist.

The door slams open, and much as I hate when Dennis does it, it also takes away all the guesswork. Of course it’s him, announcing himself boisterously.

“Honey, I’m home!” he calls out cheerfully.

I’m thankful he’s here, of course I am. Today, though, I feel it more in my bones because I was on the brink of a silent and discreet (yep, that’s me – silent and discreet and only loud in the courtroom) mental breakdown.

“Hey,” I say, walking toward the sound of his voice, eager to bridge the gap between us. There’s magic left here, of course. I love this guy. Our relationship may feel stale lately, but that’s my stress talking. He’s an awesome guy. Solid and sure. Secure.

“I’m early,” he says proudly.

And he is. Wow. It’s not even one o’ clock. Not only that, but he’s also wearing the Christmas jumper I bought him on a whim. It’s seriously ugly – green, white, and red with a reindeer’s face. It’s Rudolph, of course, with his big red nose. I remember challenging him to wear it for me.

“Nope, not gonna happen, Chrissy,” he’d protested, eyeing the ugly sweater with not quite disdain, but more like disbelief.

“You must if you love me,” I said. That was a couple of weeks ago when I was having the worst PMS symptoms, giving all women a bad name with my terrible attitude during that period.

“If I don’t?”

“Start packing,” I had said, half-jokingly at that point. I didn’t really think he would remember what I’d said. Dennis is more focused on figures. His concentration is on his job most of the time. I’m second place. Not to another woman – but to his father’s accounting firm and consultancy.

“You remembered,” I whisper. “B-but weren’t you wearing something else when you went to work this morning?”

“I had my blazer on, darling,” he says, kissing my forehead after he rests his bags on the floor. Yes, bags. He carries at least two of them at any given time. They’re the most organized things he own.

“I -,” I begin, speechless. It’s not like me not to notice a detail.

“Don’t worry, Chrissy. Everyone loved it at the office. Dad said he might pass by for dinner. With mom and Erin. They’ll help with cleaning up.”

My parents already volunteered to do that, but I can’t possibly say no to extra help. After the Christmas Eve dinner, I’m thankful I said yes. Both of our parents came, with Dennis’s college-aged sister Erin and my brother Tom and his wife Leigh. It went smooth as usual, but I no longer found it boring. Then again, maybe I had too much buttered rum.

“So, they’re gone,” Dennis says, his smile oddly looking like the one on the Elf on the Shelf.

“Yep,” I agree to the obvious. “Now what?”

“Now, I want you to sit on the couch with your feet up on the ottoman,” he says. “I’ll be back to you.”

Our living room is not too far from our dining area. Dennis promised that he would be moving us to a bigger place. It was surprising that he made the plans for us, without me badgering him about it. Still, there are a couple of things that I’m hoping he’d talk to me about.

I don’t realize that I’ve fallen asleep when I feel him massaging my foot. Okay, I think he’s not just massaging my foot. He’s now making a path from my feet to between my thighs, and I’m thankful for the dress I’m wearing. At the risk of getting marked “Naughty,” by Santa this year, I have to say he’s made me feel really good. I’m keeping the details all to myself.

“Er, why are you still kneeling over there?” I ask, after having managed to take some deep breaths. Screaming needs some recuperation time, but I’m willing to go hoarse. “You’ve already given me your Christmas gift, haven’t you?”

“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, and it feels like we were twenty again, and willing to embark on the fun but uncertain journey of becoming lovers after having been friends for long.

“Well, if you keep on doing what you just did, I’m not done with you, either,” I joke. Everything about tonight is perfect. He’s been supportive and attentive, even though I can tell he’s tired, too. There are a few streaks of grey in his otherwise shiny brown hair. It’s genetic. His dad grew completely grey when he was forty, according to Dennis. There are already faint lines on the edges of his eyes, from all the smiling. Again, it’s genetic. It doesn’t put me off. I realize I love them on him.

“Do you want me to do anything for you, Mister?” I tease. I’m willing to go down on my knees, too, anytime he wants.

“Not now. Maybe later. We have all Christmas to ourselves.”

I chuckle. But yeah, he’s still kneeling.

“Christine Ames, will you be my wife?” he suddenly asks, just as I’m about to scratch my nose.

“W-what?”

I gape at the large diamond ring saying hi to me from its red velvet case.

“Will you have a dozen kids with me in the next few years toward our lifetime? Okay, scratch that. You can say no to the kids.”

“I’m not! But the dozen is too much, and we need to get our fertility checked!”

He knows I’m starting to panic, plans forming in my head. So, he takes my hand and puts the ring on me. Then, he rises and he sits next to me on the couch.

“It doesn’t matter what the future holds for us, but we’ll have it together.”

“Is this really you, Dennis Fordham?” I ask.

“Yeah, of course. It takes an Elf on the Shelf to remind me what I should be focusing on. You know I’ve bought the critter a few years ago?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But it’s true that I got it from some weird lady on the street. It’s when I started working harder, saving up for the ring. For the wedding. For the future. I’ve been taking some extra bookkeeping jobs, and Dad thinks I’m ready to take over the firm.”

So, that’s why he’s been feeling ragged the last few years. Absent-minded. But he rarely gets grumpy on me.

“How did the Elf remind you about what’s important?” I ask, my throat feeling raw. I’m hearing bells again, but I’m welcoming their sounds.

“Well, I was starting to feel like one. Just an elf in Santa’s workshop. So, I want to be something more, just like this dude over here looks like every other Elf on the Shelf in the stores but cost a lot when I gave the lady a hundred bucks.”

“Oh, you’re worth a whole lot more than a hundred bucks, Dennis,” I murmur, nuzzling his neck.

“And you’re worth a whole lote more than a blue diamond, Chrissy.”

***

Elements: Elf on the Shelf, proposal, bells, Christmas jumper, fireplace

Note: It could have been steamier, but I picked “Nice,” so you get a story that’s a lot different from my usual. It’s uncomplicated and happy. We were given a few weeks to write this, but I’m afraid I wrote it within a day. I hope it’s still okay. lol.

Happy Holidays!

Books on Dreame:

The Royal Witch

The Royal Flower

The Royal Wolf and Hades’ Daughter

Dance of the Mermaids

Scent of a Rogue

Mistress of Blood and Fur

Judgment in Glass

Temporarily in Dreame and leaving for A.ma.zon upon completion:

Changing Positions (hockey)

The Ninth Door (gothic, third in a trilogy)

On A.ma.zon

Remnants of Erishkigal

Book 1: Firebird

Book 2: Lullaby

Book 3: Tourniquet

Book 4: Salve (will resume on Dreame soon)

A Kingdom of the Senses

Fairy Tale Junction trilogy

1: Fairy Tale Junction

2: Beyond Lynx Hall (ARCs out soon)

Sea Myths

Brooks Haven Bears series

1: Figure Eight

2: Goalkeeper

3: Changing Positions

Will be followed by the BHB spin-off series, which is a darker and more angsty version of the first three.

1: Jake’s story, 2: Lance and 3: TBA

Patreon:

Marionette (resumes this month)