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NOVEMBER 28
They’re driving down a dirt road. If the lane wasn’t covered in a fresh layer of powder, Kara’s certain the van wheels would be kicking up dust, leaving a little trail in their wake. A way to announce their arrival in town.
The Welcome to Midvale sign is decked out in its holiday best. There’s a large wreath hanging from the top and needled garland frames the edges. It becomes a blip in the rearview mirror as they crest the hill and the town grid opens up before them. Maggie whistles. “Shit, Alex. You sure we didn’t enter a wormhole when you took the last right?” Alex waves her off as they navigate their way into the heart of Midvale, but Kara understands exactly what Maggie means.
Since she became a Danvers, Kara’s heard stories about the town over the years. This is where Eliza met Jerimiah. It’s where they fell in love and got married. And it’s like stepping into Norman Rockwell’s universe. As if they’ve travelled back in time, or perhaps the rest of the world kept changing, but Midvale got together and decided to put everything on pause instead. Even their old van, their trusty steed that’s carried them around the country to gigs, seems new when they step onto Main Street. Because Midvale has one. And an honest-to-goodness, real-life general store. Alex has to pull Kara way from the pick’n’mix candy barrels.
“If we don’t hurry up we’re going to be late to meet Hank.”
Hank knew Jerimiah. Was one of his best friends growing up, so even if Kara’s still thinking about the selection of taffy she tightens up her scarf, tucks her hands into her pockets, and hurries up her steps. This is still a job after all and she knows Alex wants to make a good impression.
They walk and stretch out the miles from their road trip, and Kara thinks she gets why Eliza kept coming back to Midvale (and not just because of Jerimiah). Everything looks a bit worn and weathered, like it all could use a new coat of paint. But Kara figures if it got one, the town would lose some of its charm. Because she swears with each lungful of clean, cold air she sucks in, she feels a bit more of that charm sink into her bones, right down to the marrow.
When they pass the beauty salon and barbershop, Maggie points out the pole. Instead of the customary red, white, and blue stripes, the colors of Christmas are on display instead, which honestly isn’t a surprise. It’s why they’re here in Midvale.
Hank is waiting for them outside the one-screen cinema, its marquee announcing the start of the month-long Midvale Winter Festival in three days. When they enter the theater, Kara marvels at the decorative touches and the posters from yesteryear.
“The Luthors donated the funds to restore her to all her glory.” Apparently, the family donates to keep the theater running year-round, even if it’s now only used for special occasions and events like the festival. They’ll screen holiday classics all month, and it’ll serve as an alternative location for the Icicle Ball if the weather on New Year’s Eve doesn’t play nice.
Hank gives them a tour. He shows them where they can practice, unload and store their gear, the dollies to help cart everything to and from the square where the festival stage will stand. They can check out the stage set-up in the morning and meet the other band -- The Waveriders -- headlining the festival then, too.
He then rattles off directions on how to get to the Grant B&B. Kara has trouble following them, but Alex knows the way, and Kara’s once again reminded of a time before she had an Alex. When Alex just had Eliza and Jerimiah all to herself. When a family of three still came to Midvale for summer vacations and winter retreats.
But now Jerimiah’s gone, and Alex says they owe him this. Kara’s not sure she agrees. She’s not sure anyone owes anyone anything ever, but some subjects aren’t worth the argument. And at the end of the day? Well, Kara’s excited to play again. To stand on stage and perform.
When they exit the theater, it’s as if the town transformed all over again. Kara of course noticed the decorations as they were walking to their meeting, but now that the sun’s dipped below the horizon, everything stands out that much more because it’s all lit up. The gas lamps. Shop windows. And Christmas lights lining, well, everything. Kara can’t turn her head to find a shop without a wreath, candles in display windows, or lights blinking. What seemed worn and weathered earlier somehow has a much more steady pulse now. Midvale has come alive, and maybe, just maybe, Kara’s rethinking Alex’s stance. Maybe they owe this magical experience to themselves.
DECEMBER 1
The Grant B&B doesn’t have wifi. It has internet, but only through a shared computer in the home’s sitting area. And it’s dial-up. They’re booked for the month, and Alex has already warned her about data use on her phone, but Kara’s not too worried. She has her Deering to pluck at and notebooks and watercolors. Plus, they’ll be busy practicing soon enough and once the festival kicks off, there are daily events.
On the way to the theater Kara walks straight into a puddle of slush. She soaks her converse and her socks are a lost cause, but Kara doesn’t even feel the cold because she sees an angel. Not one of the wire and gold garland decorations hanging from lamp posts on Main Street. Not of the kind made of snow. A literal living, breathing, walking angel.
Her angel looks warm, wrapped up in a red coat and redder lipstick, and Kara thinks about how those lips might taste the rest of the day. She thinks about them while they’re practicing and then proceeds to forget what chords she should be playing.
Kara knows Alex wants to be cross with her. Yet after a steadying breath and a long silence that makes Kara think Alex is probably counting to ten, her sister instead says, “It’s fine. It’s the power of Midvale.” Alex is a romantic at heart, even if she only ever admits it through the songs she writes. Kara gives her sister a quick hug, apologizes, and manages to keep it together as they walk through the rest of their setlist for their first performance. They want to make sure they’re ready without coming off as too polished or rehearsed.
The square has been completely transformed. There are more lights stringing along the makeshift paths of wooden stalls stacked side by side. Many of the same shops that dot Main Street have pop-ups for the winter market with festival only specials not found back at their brick and mortars. There’s so much food Kara wants to try, and she sees Alex and Maggie eying the stalls that are home to local breweries and vineyards. But performing first and then perks after.
They take to the stage after Mayor Luthor officiates the tree lighting ceremony. With Christmas lights serving as spotlights, Kara steps up to the main microphone. “Happy Christmas, Midvale! We’re El Mayarah, and we hope you’re ready to rock around not only the Christmas tree, but with us and The Waveriders all month!”
They make their way through their set, holiday classics sprinkled among original work and crowd-pleasing covers. Kara’s pretty sure they charm the town in the same way Midvale’s charming her. When she crawls into bed that night, cheeks still rosy from the cold and stomach full from the plates of food the stall owners offered, Kara can’t stop thinking about her angel’s smile. She doesn’t care that she doesn’t even know her name.
DECEMBER 4
Festival organizers determine the lake’s ice thickness is safe, and it opens for skating and pick-up hockey. They have a small band meeting, eat a late breakfast with The Waveriders, and then head to the lake.
Kara decides that lake is a generous term. Like, really generous. Because in reality, the lake is a small pond. Sure it’s large enough for one end to house a goal and the other to allow skaters to circle and show off, but a lake it is not.
Sets of bleachers seem to have been dragged over from a nearby baseball diamond, providing seating for spectators and those brave enough to strap into a pair of skates. There are also a few warming stations dotting along the pond’s banks, and Kara’s eyes grow three sizes when she sees someone handing out skewers and marshmallows. When she also sees there are bars of chocolate from Nal Confectionary and boxes of graham crackers, Kara abandons Alex and Maggie. Finally, someone else gets that s’mores don’t deserve to be relegated to a summer only dessert.
Kara’s working on obtaining the perfect golden shell for her roasted marshmallow when she glances up from her handiwork only to find her angel gliding along the surface of the pond. Her careful focus goes out the window, and Kara watches for so long she doesn’t notice when her marshmallow is swallowed up by flames or that her skewer has caught fire, too. Not until someone clears her throat.
“Oh, shoot! Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
The woman manning the station offers another skewer and marshmallow with an all too knowing look.
Back on the bleachers, fingers still a bit sticky and unaware that there’s a speck of melted chocolate sitting at the corner of her lips, Kara watches her angel. She’s more than a bit mesmerized at the woman’s grace, especially when she jumps and spins.
“That-- Wow. A double axel.”
Kara has no idea what that means, but given Maggie’s awed tone she figures it’s pretty impressive. She starts clapping, not even a bit embarrassed when she’s the only one sending out applause. Not when it draws her angel’s attention and a single look from her steals Kara’s breath.
DECEMBER 11
From her spot on the stage, behind the mic and guitar in her hands, Kara watches her angel, and sometimes her angel watches her.
She’s with friends and dancing in a way that lacks all the grace she had on the ice the other day. Her movements are goofy, colored with a joyous abandon. Kara almost misses the intro of her favorite song because she’s too busy watching and wondering what it would be like to dance with her.
Would she feel soft?
Would she want to lead?
Would her red lips leave a mark against Kara’s cheek?
When it’s The Waveriders’ turn on stage, Kara goes on a hunt. She tries to find the woman. She wants to know what winter on her skin smells like. Maybe something like fire and pine, or cloves and caramel. Kara wants to know if her lips taste like cocoa or the spiced cider and gingerbread Querl sells at his orchard’s stall.
But Kara can’t find her angel. Not in the crowd at the stage or walking through the maze of vendor stalls. But that night Kara does find her in her dreams through visions of hands on her angel’s hips.
DECEMBER 16
Kara’s in search of a big bowl of soup and a grilled cheese or four, so she enters the town’s only restaurant, a family-run cafe.
There’s something to be said for the familiarity of a place like Midvale, a place she’s only been in for two weeks, because the owner’s daughter, Andrea, greets her by name. She asks Kara about their next performance and requests they sing “Noche de Paz”.
It’s in the cafe, sandwich in one hand and phone in the other as she texts Eliza updates that Kara learns her angel’s name. Andrea calls out, “Lena, your order’s up,” and pulls Kara’s attention from her phone. She watches her angel -- Lena -- stride to the counter, exchange friendly conversation, and drop more than a few bills into the tip jar at the register.
Kara wants to do something. She wants to stand up and hold out her hand and introduce herself, even if her fingers are greasy. But all the bluster that was there five days ago, adrenaline high and the confidence that soaks into her skin every time she’s on stage and performing is nowhere to be found. Not when Lena turns from the counter, not when she looks directly at Kara like she had that day at the pond and then while dancing.
Her mouth goes dry and suddenly it’s hard to chew. To swallow. Kara’s gone clammy and her heart’s doing something that’s honestly a little bit concerning. And then her moment of opportunity is gone. The bell above the cafe’s door chimes Lena’s exit and Kara groans, drops her head to the formica of the booth’s tabletop and sighs. Maybe Alex and Maggie are right. She’s a bit useless when it comes to women.
Kara decides to order pie as a way to lick her wounds. The cherries remind her of Lena’s lips, and she bets kissing her would be even sweeter.
DECEMBER 23
It snowed overnight. The kind of snow that sticks to everything and makes the world look like a globed wonderland.
An impromptu snowman contest starts up in the park, and Kara ropes Alex and Maggie into participating. She doesn’t even complain when it turns into Alex art directing and she and Maggie rolling snowballs bigger than their heads before molding and shaping. In an hour’s time, they have an impressive busker, an open guitar case and all.
They’re admiring the rest of the various snow creations that have sprung up around them when a loud, warm chuckle carries across the cold air. It’s followed by a baiting, “You missed me by a mile, Winn!” They turn in time to see a second snowball fly and hit its mark. Well, sort of.
It is a bald head Winn hits, but not that of James. Instead, it’s Midvale’s mayor. He swipes away the melting snow slipping down his forehead when a laugh slices through the building tension. That’s how Kara learns that Lena has a delightful laugh and that it does something to her insides. Warms them right up like a space heater has replaced her heart.
“Oh, you think that’s funny, sister of mine?” That’s how Kara learns her angel is Lena Luthor.
“Lex, you wouldn’t dare.” Kara watches as Lena begins to back away from her brother and the handful of snow he’s shaping between his gloves.
“Is that a challenge? I believe that’s a challenge. What do you all say?” His voice somehow bellows across the expanse of the park where Kara swears the whole town seems to have congregated. “Do you agree that’s a challenge? Because if so…”
“Snowball fight!”
It’s unclear who yells the battle cry, but immediately it’s a flurry of chaos. Everyone’s scampering off in various directions, somehow naturally falling into and forming teams. As she follows after her sister and Maggie, slipping and sliding as she sprints across the snow toward the cover of a newly overturned picnic table, Kara has to wonder. If Midvale is always this magical, why did Jerimiah and Eliza ever leave?
Kara’s huffing and puffing twenty-some minutes later. She can’t feel her fingers nor her ears. Her gloves are soaked through from being a snowball making machine, and she donated her knit cap to their busker snowperson. She’s hunkered behind a tree to catch her breath from the last assault their team faced and distracted as she tries to figure out how you even win a snowball fight. That’s why she doesn’t register anyone approaching. One second she thinks she’s being sneaky and blending in with nature, and the next she feels a pair of earmuffs slip onto her head.
Lena, sister of the town’s mayor, snowball fight instigator, and her angel is right there, standing in front of her and she’s literally the most beautiful creature Kara’s ever seen. Lena’s eyes are bright and her cheeks are red like her lips, and in that moment Kara understands why Greek armies fought so long for Helen of Troy because Kara would fight in every snowball war for this woman. And that fight includes finally gathering up the courage to speak to her, though Kara swears her space heater heart clanging around in her chest is about to combust.
“Hi.” Of course. Of course, Lena takes that first step. “You looked like you could use assistance getting warmed up.” Lena licks her red lips, and Kara, just a weak gay, is defenseless against tracking the movement. That’s why when she blinks again Lena’s suddenly so much closer. So close that she can feel warm puffs of breath against her skin. “I’ve actually got something else to help warm you up…”
Eyes a little wider and darker at the thoughts now chasing each other in her mind, Kara manages to stutter out the most elegant first word ever spoken to a woman she’s pretty sure she’s in love with. “Yeah?”
Lena answers with a smile, one that’s charming, just like the town, and impish in a way that pulls low in Kara’s belly and renders her useless as Lena leans in and…
“Oh, golly! That’s so cold!” Kara yelps because there’s a snowball down the back of her shirt. A snowball that Lena stealthily slipped in and that’s now melting right into the back of Kara’s sports bra. Kara can’t escape the cold snow no matter how her arms noodle or her hips shake.
“I think you had the right idea, Lena. Kara did need some cooling off.” Of course, Maggie and Alex see the whole display. Kara wants to pout and be mad, but she can’t. Not when Lena’s laughter joins in with that of her sister and Maggie, and not when an arm loops through her own and tugs her in the direction of the square.
“Come on, rockstar. There’s a cup of hot chocolate in your future. It’s the least I can do.”
They’ve taken only a few steps when Kara finds her stride. Her confidence. “What’s the most you can do, Lena?”
Because Kara’s back is a little frozen, but so is Midvale, and Kara’s certain she’d be happy to be frozen here in time with Lena forever.