TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT - CHRISTMAS

Welcome! Merry Christmas! The word prompt this week is "Christmas"! This week's episode of "Santa's Thrift Shop" continues from Giselle's pov. Don't worry. We will get to Cal's side of things. 
I hope you have a wonderful holiday. Thank you so much for stopping by. Scroll down to get back to Tuesday Tales. 

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Julia Davenport entered her niece’s house carrying a shopping bag.

“You’re just in time for tea. I have water boiling,” Giselle said, giving her aunt a hug.

“You’re so self-sufficient. It’s amazing.”

“I’ve had a few years to adjust.”

“Can’t I be impressed?”

“Life goes on, Julia. No matter what.”

“True.”

“Camomile or Vanilla Chai?” Giselle asked, on her way to the kitchen.

“Vanilla, please. I brought you some Christmas decorations.”

“I’m not going to have a tree. No point.”

“Can we put these up in the window, instead?” Julia asked.

“Sure. I don’t want people to think I’m a Scrooge.”

Giselle took down mugs and recognized the box of vanilla tea by the cream color.

“Do you need help?” Julie asked, joining her niece.

“Just say ‘when’, will you?”

“Sure.”

“I brought some of Laura Dailey’s scones,” she said, rummaging through the shopping bag.

Julia swallowed her food, then spoke. 

“Are you going to do Santa’s Thrift Shop?”

“Me? No. That was mom’s thing. Not mine,” Giselle responded, putting a piece of the confection in her mouth.

“But you always helped out.”

“When I had perfect vision. But now? No.”

“I’ll help. I’m sure we can find others.”

“There’s probably a ton of dust and mold growing in that old shop. Ugh.”

Julia patted Giselle’s arm. “The children look forward to it. And when I told people you were moving back, everyone asked me if you were going to do it.”

“And what did you say?”

“Said I had to talk to you first.”

“If everything was normal, well, maybe. But the way things are…”

“People will pitch in.”

“I don’t want that. I don’t want help. I don’t want pity. I just want to be left alone,” Giselle said, pushing to her feet and stomping to the bay window.

Through the fuzziness, she made out a snowball fight happening across the street. Her heart squeezed. Of course, it would be Cal. She recalled the many times he’d rifled a snowball at her bottom with amazing accuracy.

She sighed and turned away. No sense torturing herself. Cal had a new life, a child, and probably a girlfriend. Julia came up behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s time for you to get a life, too.”  

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