#FlashFictionMagic: Where Treetops Glisten

Hidden in this story are the titles of 30 holiday songs. How many can you find?

“Where treetops glisten…” sang the radio. 

That sounds nice, Angela thought, gazing out the florist shop’s window at the gray sky. Please let it snow. All she wanted was a white Christmas, to wake up to a winter wonderland, and to enjoy the beauty of a snowy holiday. At least then she might not feel like her Christmas would be a total bust. 

 The next Christmas song to play was Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas - Angela’s favorite. It was so wistful, and it made her nostalgic. She hummed a bit, then realized there was something she had meaning to mention to her boss.  

“Mary, did you know that the holly and the ivy are almost gone? We’ll probably only be able to make two more garlands.”     

“Last Christmas, we ran out a lot sooner,” Mary pointed out. “I think we’ll be fine. We only have one more day after today.” 

“I guess that’s true,” Angela agreed. She went back to arranging the centerpiece in front of her, here and there attaching some silver bells to the evergreen boughs and arranging the pretty paper she had chosen to intersperse with them. Mary was similarly engrossed in a poinsettia arrangement that involved some kind of small statue - a little Saint Nick maybe? 

“Do you hear what I hear right now?” Mary asked after a few moments. 

Angela listened for a second, and sure enough, the sound of hammering was echoing through the air, coming from up on the housetop of the building across the street. The noise was more annoying than the little drummer boy, and they’d been hearing it all day every day since Thanksgiving. 

“Do they know it’s Christmas?” Angela asked, rolling her eyes. “They need to take a day off.” 

As if on cue, one of the guys on the construction crew, Dylan Franklin, poked his head into the shop. “Anybody got a phone charger I can use for a few?” he asked, holding up his dead iPhone. Angela couldn’t help but glance up. Dylan had the most beautiful blue eyes. If a white Christmas wasn’t in the cards, maybe a blue Christmas could work?

“Well, you guys are kind of loud out there,” teased Angela. “But somewhere in my memory I seem to recall that I owe you a favor.” Just last week, in fact, he’d chipped in with some of the Christmas wrapping during the busiest part of the day while his own work was halted due to a water main break. He was a nice guy like that. “You can use mine.” 

“You’re awesome, thanks,” said Dylan. 

Angela plugged the charger into the wall, then handed Dylan the other end. As he plugged it into his phone, he said, “Well, any big plans for the holidays?” 

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” Angela said. “Not sure yet about new year’s.” 

“There’s no place like home for the holidays,” Dylan said, nodding. “What are you doing New Year’s Eve that might take you away from home?”

Angela blushed. She had no plans, and no prospects, just the hope of something more than a silent night at home. Surely someday at Christmas her luck would have to change, right? “Nothing that I know of so far,” she said sheepishly. “But it sounds better than saying I’ll be alone, right?” 

“It's the most wonderful time of the year!” said Dylan. “Don’t be so down! Surely you’ll find something to do.”  

“That’s what I keep telling her,” Mary said, tossing in her two cents while also holding up swatches of silver and gold cellophane to see which she liked better for her poinsettia arrangement. 

“We could do something together,” Dylan pointed out. 

“Yeah?” Angela said, smiling suddenly in spite of herself. “Well, maybe.” 

He nodded toward his phone. “Put your number in there. Then we can get in touch.” 

Angela could not believe this was happening, but she did what he said, putting in her name and her cell number. “Done,” she said.

“Cool,” said Dylan. “If it snows, maybe we can do a sleigh ride.”

“Seriously?” Angela asked. “That’s one of my favorite things!” 

“Mine too,” Dylan said, holding her gaze for a few extra beats, smiling warmly. 

They stood in awkward silence for a few moments. Dylan finally grabbed his phone and said, “Well, I’d better get back.” 

“Try to get that job done, will you?” Angela teased. “We’re getting sick of all that noise!” 

“I’ll do what I can. Remember  - don’t sing Auld Lang Syne all by yourself. Call me.” 

“Got it,” Angela said, and she waved as he stepped outside. 

Well, maybe she would get something on her grown-up Christmas list this year after all. Maybe it really could be a wonderful Christmastime.