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An unexpected gift from a secret Santa arrived. Carol blinked at the box on her front porch, holding the door open with one hand, the other hand holding her housecoat closed. She gingerly stepped out her door with her head swivelling, eyes squinting as she scanned the sidewalk, the street, the line of houses across the street from hers and next to hers. She shuffled in her open-toed slippers over to the package, pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, and peered down at it. She had seen the red and green letters that said “From your secret Santa,” but looking closer, she saw that it was definitely addressed to her. No return address. The box was about… the size of a laptop? But like, a thick laptop? She had her own way of measuring things. The cold air bit at her toes, nose and ears. She glanced once more left and right, stooped down, and snatched up the box and darted back inside.	Carol locked her door again, moved to the dining room table and put the box down. Wait, what if it’s dangerous? It could be a bomb! Carol froze, wide eyed and mouth agape as her brain scrambled this way and that, trying to figure out what to do with a bomb. She shook her head.	“Snap out of it, Carol, nobody knows you well enough to want to blow you up,” she muttered to herself. This was more or less true. Her family knew her well, and even though she was awful at visiting and responding to texts and emails, they loved her. Her co-workers either adored her or found her odd, but even the ones who didn’t see her quirks as charming, were not emotionally invested enough in their dislike, that they would pursue an explosive solution.	She sat down at the table and stared at the box. After a few moments she exhaled, got up, turned away from the box and went to find out where she had left her tea. It was Saturday morning and she had been sipping on her tea browsing Amazon for work appropriate desk decorations and gift ideas for her co-workers. Brian, one of the other Accounting Managers at her work, was going to beam when he saw his Chewbacca mug. He was always looking for an excuse to showcase his spot-on impression. Well, Carol had never seen the movies, but he was always so enthusiastic and everyone else seemed to like it. Carol didn’t want to let him down.	“Focus Carol,” she said to herself. She was back on the couch and her tea had found it’s way into her hand. Her phone had navigated its way to Candy Crush and the box was still not dealt with. 	She wasn’t someone people would send unexpected gifts to unless it was for some type of prank. Brittany Wheeler sent her a gift in high school from a “secret admirer,” that had turned out to be a stink bomb. Her classmates had conjured up the name Carol Farts. Her last name was Robson, not the most clever nickname. Despite telling her mom that being bullied by morons didn’t bother her, the worst kind of prank was one that got your hopes up before making you feel stupid. Admitting how much that had hurt had taken a surprising amount of therapy. 	“Try BetterHelp and let them connect you to one of many licensed therapists to-” Carol skipped the ad. Were these algorithms starting to read her thoughts? “Creepy,” she breathed.	She scrolled through her personal wish list, the one she never sent anyone. She used it to track discounts on things she wanted to buy herself. Things she never felt comfortable asking other people for. Things she didn’t need, but things she wanted.	“Huh?” Carol brought her phone closer to her face. She had scrolled all the way through it multiple times, knew the list front and back. An item was missing. She pulled her phone down onto her lap and leaned her head toward the dining room. The package had not moved.	Setting down her tea, she moved out of the living room, past the dining room, then turned into the kitchen, her eyes on the box the whole time, skirting around the walls to stay as far away from the box as possible. Despite ruling out the bomb theory, she wasn’t taking any unnecessary chances. She retrieved her scissors from the junk drawer, sat back down at the table and slowly cut the tape that kept the box closed. 	There it was, as if it had leapt from her Amazon Wishlist onto her dining room table. An original uncut version of “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Carol’s favourite movie. She stared at it for a few moments, holding it in her hand, then looked left and right around her house. When she confirmed there were no dastardly bad guys spying on her while she opened a spontaneous gift, she investigated the box further. A printed note. Small, folded in half and written in the same fashion as the writing on the box.Dear Carol,	I hope this arrives undamaged and is a pleasure to watch. I’ve only seen the theatrical release myself, but it is always a must-watch during the holidays. Remember to take some time for yourself this weekend, you deserve it.Merry Christmas,Your Secret Santa. Carol allowed herself a moment with a suspicious, but warm feeling. She pushed her lips together, but against her will, a smile drew itself across her face. She was not someone who received thoughtful surprise gifts. The smile faded. She was not someone who received genuine thoughtful surprise gifts.Carol was thirty-five years old. It was relatively painless to push that warm feeling away and be realistic. She sighed and shook her head, slightly embarrassed and disappointed at the hopeful little girl who had begun to show up. Either this was some sort of trick or the person who sent it to her was on some kind of watchlist. The Wishlist Watchlister… hang on that could be a great book idea.She tossed the DVD back into the box and went about the rest of her morning as normal; after she double checked her locks.The disc could very well just be the movie, or something mean. Maybe an embarrassing moment of hers or something like that. But, even if it was her favourite movie in exactly the version she wanted, there was no way she was watching it without Nathan. The rest of Carol’s day proved as uneventful as the first Saturday of December normally does. She caught up on dishes and vacuuming so she could feel good about lying on the couch on her phone and ignoring the pile of clean laundry at the foot of her bed.When the sun was already setting, the timer for her Christmas lights clicked into action and filled Carol’s house with a warm light and festive spirit. Carol’s head filled with thoughts of Christmas and at the forefront of those thoughts, was her favourite movie. She looked at the box with an accusatory expression, then puffed out a defeated breath and went to her small wine cabinet. She pulled out her favourite glass, it had no stem, a gold rim and snowflakes etched around the sides.“Well Nathan, let’s see what this is all about.”With a bottle of red tucked under her arm, Nathan in one hand and the DVD case in the other, she plopped herself on the couch, filled a glass and turned on the TV. Her heart was beating a little stronger and she quickly took a gulp of wine.The trailers played, the production logos came next, then there was that familiar scrapbook. Dimitri Tiomkin’s score kicked in with that sort of music you just never hear anymore. Relief washed over Carol and before long she was sucked into her favourite movie, blanket curled up about her legs to keep her toes warm, arms free for pouring refills, and her kind of Saturday night was well underway.Marching upstairs to the bathroom across from the bedroom, Carol had left the warmth of the blanket and paused the movie for a much-needed pee break. Leaving the washroom, she caught herself in the mirror. Her curly, dirty-blonde hair was in a horribly messy bun. Her big pink rimmed glasses were sitting crooked on her tiny button nose. She had no make-up on and was wearing the same bathrobe, big t-shirt and pajama shorts from this morning.“Whoever decided they wanted to make your day better has got to be some kind of goblin,” Carol said, half laughing at her reflection. Her head slumped to the side a bit. She was feeling the wine. She leaned closer to the mirror, using her hands to push her cheeks up and back to where she wished they were, eliminating the very tiny wrinkles she thought were monstrous. She straightened her glasses onto her brown eyes, wincing as she caught the beginning of another pimple just above her lip. Carol sighed. She had never wanted some six-foot seven superman to sweep her off her feet with a big romantic gesture and take her away from it all, she liked the life she had built and that sounded like a hassle. But, maybe someone nice to split the bottle with and tell her how good she was at decorating, wouldn’t go amiss.&nbsp;Carol made it into work on Monday after spending all Sunday Christmas shopping at the mall, the old-fashioned way. As much as she liked Amazon, she had needed to get out of the house. Keeping her mind task-oriented kept her from ruminating about that gift and its’ sender. She was just grabbing coffee in the break room before heading to her office. Do I tell Kaylee? 	“Hey Kaylee how was your weekend?” “Ugh, Allen and the kids had to watch football all Sunday, so guess who got everything done?” “The dog?” Carol laughed nervously at her own joke. Kayle gave her a sideways look and a very pathetic laugh.“How about your weekend Carol?” Kayle asked and then looked away with disinterest.“Oh you know, just decluttered the old wine cabinet.” Carol meekly laughed at her own joke yet again, before clearing her throat and tending to her coffee.I guess we’re not telling Kaylee. Carol smiled, laughed and small talked her way to her office. She was one of the Accounting Managers for her firm and so, unfortunately, plenty of people wanted to say “hi” to build positive interactions with their boss. She missed being just an accountant. The numbers never made her wonder whether they liked her or were just pretending to like her for the sake of the work place.She hoped they liked her; she gave all her staff, and the other managers, as well as the Director of Accounting Management gifts at Christmas for their hard work. Was that too much? Am I brown-nosing? Everyone worked so hard. Well, Chris didn’t work that hard. The man couldn’t even piece together a proper spreadsheet and was still her boss. He could literally be an underwear model, or a superhero in some big movie. He’s got the charm and the looks and then I wouldn’t have to deal wi- “Hey Carol, knock knock!”“Oh, hey Chris!” replied Carol after nearly spitting out her coffee. Chris was leaning his head in, golden blonde hair combed back with just a little bit of it out of place, piercing blue eyes looking at her with calm intent, and a chiseled jaw coated in a perpetual five o’clock shadow that was slightly darker than his hair. “Come on in, what can I do to you…do for you, to uh, to help you?” Carol tried not to cringe as she fumbled out her greeting. Chris always had a half smirk on his face that Carol found off-putting and right now it was there in full force. Had I said all the stuff about him being an underwear model out loud? Was Chris the secret Santa? No, that’s insane.“Nothing big, just wanted to double check something real quick. The James and Sons account, their quarterly earnings report, Heather wanted that done before Christmas holidays, right?” Chris had raised one eyebrow and pursed his lips a bit.Jesus Christ man, how could someone ask something so dumb and look like Indiana Jones? “Uh, yes, she said that at the meeting in September. I believe you told her you would oversee that personally?” Chris opened his smirk to an innocent asking smile. “…but if you want, I can take a look at where you are and see what I can do to help.”“Thanks Carol, it’s just with everything right now and the holidays, I’ve been really swamped. I did get a good start on it though. I’ll send it over.” With a wink, a click of his tongue and some finger guns, Chris left and closed the door. I guess you can get away with finger guns when you look like that and you’re the boss. Carol tried to do the same gesture back as he left but smacked her finger on her desk. It was throbbing but at least he hadn’t seen.As Carol predicted, Chris’ “good start” was almost nothing. She dialed the phone.“Carol if this is about Chris, you owe me five bucks,” Mark’s voice answered on the other end.“For what?”“The bet we made, remember?”“Mark, on what planet would I bet any money against Chris leaving me with his job at the last minute?”“This one?”“Are you trying to gaslight me out of five bucks?”“Is it gaslighting if I fold this easily, and bring you your second coffee on the way to your office to help?”“I’ll allow it.” Carol hung up and began getting ready for a very long day.As Carol and Mark tried to clean up Chris’ mess, she could not stop thinking about her Secret Santa. Chris came by and thanked her multiple times and even brought her some lunch and asked her what she got up to this weekend. Maybe it was Chris. Wait, was there some sort of office secret Santa no one had told her about? How had Chris known about her favourite movie? Was he secretly good at his job and just pretending to need Carol to do everything for him? She had never really thought of herself being with a Chris before. He was conventionally very pretty; her mom would definitely be happy. Maybe she wouldn’t mind how slow he-“Earth to Carol.” Mark’s voice pulled her back to her computer screen. Mark’s brown bushy eyebrows were raised above his brown eyes. His hair was messier than normal and his top button undone. They had been there working well past their staff going home. “Maybe we just pick up again tomorrow yeah?”“Hey, can I ask you something and you promise not to tell anyone?” Carol what are you doing? Mark sat back in his chair and gestured out with his hands.“Ms. Christmas Carol, the woman who thoughtfully never fails to get me my favourite hot chocolate every year, has a shameful secret? You better believe I’m all ears.” Mark had a big dopey, ear to ear, grin on his face. Carol’s face went white. Oh no, now it sounded way worse than it was.“It’s not bad or anything, okay, just kind of odd.”“You’re kind of odd, but I still hang out with you, let’s hear it.” Mark was still smiling, but his face went a little red as if he was nervous.“Ha-Ha,” Mark and her were always making fun of each other, “I had this…. Present? I guess that’s what it is, show up on my doorstep on Saturday. It said it was from a secret Santa. I’ve been trying to work out in my head who might have sent it. But I have no idea. Sometimes I’m worried it’s some sort of prank, but then I was thinking… is it Chris? He did bring lunch and likes to give me lots of things to do. It sounds stupid now that I said it out loud.”Mark gave out a laugh that sounded half forced half stress and then cut it off with a croaking cough when he noticed Carol had formed a frown. “I’m sorry Carol, I shouldn’t laugh. But you are not the only Accounting Manager who he gives his work to, and I hate to be the one to break it to you, but bringing you lunch was to keep you at your desk over your break. He knows you’ll work through it that way.”Carol deflated in her chair and slowly looked at the floor. “Ahh, yeah that makes a lot more sense.” Maybe it was just dad or something. Carol loved her dad and that would be a nice gesture. But, as anxiety ridden as it had made her, having a secret admirer had been kind of fun. Seeing her reaction, Mark suddenly looked panicked and guilt-ridden. “Oh sorry Carol, I didn’t know you had a thing for Chris.”“I don’t Mark it’s just…” Carol shook her head briefly. “I’m fine, it’s been a long day, I think I’m just tired.” She began to pack up, Mark did as well. “Thanks for all your help today, seriously you’re the best.”“Get home and make sure you take some time for yourself tonight, you deserve it.” Mark was out the door.“Yeah see you tomor-” Hang on a second. Carol pulled the note out of her bag and re-read it. Did Mark like her? Oh God Carol you sound like you’re in middle school. What do I do? Do I run after him? Do I like him? Mark was great, but he was her best work friend. He was cute too wasn’t he?. He was cute and they got along really well. Is that all it took? Is that what love is? Oh my God Carol do something“Mark do you wanna go on a date or something!?” She hastily blurted out after him. Why did that sound rude. She should have just asked him if he sent the gift. Wait did she just ask him out? Was that what she was trying to do? What if he said no? Or what if he said yes!?“What!?” Mark had stopped and she heard him coming back toward him. Oh no, he’s making you ask again.“Nothing, never mind.” Carol clutched her bag with both arms, looked at the ground and went toward the door.Thwack“Ow!” Carol had opened the door right into Mark and bonked him on the nose. He stepped back and sat on the desk behind him, holding his nose.“Oh my God Mark. I am so sorry, are you okay!?”“This is the first time I’ve ever been asked out and I never expected it to be this painful if I’m honest.” Oh no, he heard me? Then why did he ask me to repeat myself? Carol stood there, mouth open and hoping she looked calmer than she felt, with no idea what to say. Mark started laughing. Carol started laughing, nervously at first, then with more sincerity. She was still mortified, but this made it a lot better.“Do you like Italian food?” She asked through a snorted laugh. Good Lord Carol, you better hope he finds this endearing. Mark and her both started laughing even more.“Carol, you’re adorable. Let me help you. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at 6:30.”“Okay.” She said sheepishly. Did that just happen?“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Mark picked his bag back up and walked back down the hall out of the empty office. Carol could not have been more thankful that they were the only ones still there. Did Mark always have that cute of a butt? Thinking about Mark’s ass is not the way I imagined Monday ending. Hold on, stalker alert, he still had the package to answer for.“Wait how the hell did you get on my wish list?” Carol called after him.“You forget your phone on your desk as often as Kaylee forgets she has to pick up her kids.” Mark called down the hallway. She stood there puzzled for a second and mouthed Huh? Then, from much further away came “I sent myself a link to it when you left it open on your desk!” A little creepy but I’ll allow it.“6:30 tomorrow?” She called after him.“You’ve got it, it’s a date!” He called back.It is a date. Carol could not stop grinning the whole way home.

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Christmas Carol

Steven

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