Welcome to Tuesday Tales!!
Since it’s almost Christmas, I decided to start a short Christmas story. Don’t worry we will come back to Marilyn and Buck after the holidays.
It wasn’t going to be Christmas without snow.
Lacey kicked a clump of still green grass as she waited for the mechanic to deliver her car from the back lot. Despite the unseasonable weather, she needed to get home to bake Christmas cookies for the cookie decorating class at the Art Shop. She wasn’t in charge of the decorating, thank goodness, but she could make a mean sugar cookie for the kids to use as a palette for their creations.
At last, the man drove up with the beater she hoped would last one more winter. He left the motor running as he climbed out.
“Dropped a new alternator in, but I’d get those tires replaced soon. They won’t be sage when the weather changes.”
Lacey shrugged. She was putting that task off as long as she could. “One week until Christmas and I haven’t even unpacked my wool coat from the moth balls yet.”
“You know Michigan weather. It can be three seasons in twenty-four hours.” He gestured to the driver’s seat. “Drive safe.”
She nodded, then climbed behind the wheel. After adjusting the seat and mirrors for her five-five frame, she headed home. Her mind had wandered as she turned onto the country road. She ran through the ingredients for the cookies and the process to make to them.
The sky darkened in the last few minutes. She flipped the headlights on as the first chunks of ice snapped against her windshield. The wipers swept the chunks away, but they quickly grew large enough to ding the hood.
Lacey swerved into a dirt driveway and brought the car to a stop next to an old barn. She could barely make out the red paint through the gray sheet of hail.
The tree in front of her car had already lost several branches and Lacey didn’t want to be under them when the next one crashed down. She counted to ten to summon her nerve, then shoved the door open and dashed for the open barn door. The hail zinged her next and head.
The barn smelled of damp and dust at the same time. As she flicked chunks of ice from her hair, she realized she wasn’t the only one seeking refuge in the barn.
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