Chapter Seventeen
A Mouse, a Flask, and a Decision
Corey’s cabin was not too far distant from the town square and the workshop, but he could tell that Serendipity was growing tired and so he took a leasuirly pace, allowing her to determine the speed of their procession.
The snow was still falling and whenever she thought that he was not looking, Serendipity would, occasionally, ensnare another snowflake with her tongue, as she had done so long ago in the accompaniment of her father. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked as they neared the street where his cabin stood.
“I believe I am,” Serendipity admitted. “Although I am rather tired. This is a bit too much movement for what I am used to.”
“I believe I am,” Serendipity admitted. “Although I am rather tired. This is a bit too much movement for what I am used to.”
“I’m sure,” he agreed. “Well, we shall be at my home soon, you shall have your little friend back with you, and I shall ask my valet, Mr. Waddlebug, to fix you a spot of tea before we are off on our way back to England.”
“Mr. Waddlebug?” Serendipity asked, chuckling. “What sort of a name is that?”
“This from the person who names her mouse friend Pozzletot?” Corey asked, turning to look at her and joining in her amusement.
“Well, while I agree that Pozzletot is a peculiar name, my friend is a mouse. Yours is an elf, I suppose?”
“Yes, he is. And he does remind me a bit of a bug,” Corey admitted. “And he does tend to waddle a bit as well.”
Serendipity was laughing so hard, she doubled-over, her free arm wrapped tightly around her midsection.
“You find that amusing do you?” Corey asked, pausing beside her, a genuine smile still framing his handsome face.
“Quite,” Serendipity managed to squeeze out between roars of laughter. “I’m sorry,” she finally said, regaining her composure. “I’m sure he’s a fine fellow.”
“Not really,” Corey muttered, causing her to look at him in astonishment. “Oh, he’s quite good at his job, I suppose. But his disposition is a bit… lacking.”
“Hmmm,” Serendipity said to herself, continuing upon their journey and looking sideways at Corey as she did so.
“What was that?” he asked, an air of shock on his handsome face. “What are you implying, Ms. Fizzlestitch.”
“Nothing,” she replied, “only that you, too, have the tendency towards a bit of an unappealing disposition from time to time.”
Corey’s mouth fell open in shock, though he recognized the teasing lilt of her voice. “And what of you? Ms. ‘I shan’t go with you, now get out of my house’?” he asked in a voice meant to mock hers, stopping in his tracks and turning to face her.
“Is that how I sounded?” Serendipity asked, still amused. “Like an old bitty cursing her cat?”
“Yes!” Corey exclaimed, still facing her.
“Really?” she asked again forcing back a smile that continued to play at the corners of her mouth.
“Yes!”
“Well, then, perhaps I should stay here and not go back to that fiendish misbehavior from before,” she muttered as she turned and began to stroll again.
“What was that?” Corey asked, sure he had heard her correctly but wanting to hear her say it again.
“Oh, nothing,” Serendipity replied, wishing she had kept her thoughts to herself. “Do you like me better now that I am here?” she asked, the teasing expression still dancing in her eyes.
“Much,” Corey admitted.
“Good,” Serendipity smiled. “I like you better now that I am here as well.”
The crooked grin was back on his face again, but this time it was true, and she knew it in her heart. “Come along,” he said after a moment, her arm still locked in his. “We shall be there in just a moment.”
A few steps further and they stood outside of his cabin. It was a bit larger than she had expected and well decorated, something else she had not expected. Even the outside twinkled with the same lights as in the Village. There were potted Christmas trees on either side of the door and a large wreath welcoming them. “How lovely!” Serendipity exclaimed as she followed him up the steps. He opened the door for her, and she stepped in, once again in awe at how festive and happy his place appeared as she looked around at all of the Christmas decor. “Not at all what I was expecting,” she admitted as he took her coat and hung it, along with his own, on the hooks by the door.
As they stomped the snow from their boots, Serendipity heard a noise in the kitchen. “Please, have a seat by the fireplace, and I shall be back in a moment. We shall begin the hunt for your friend in just a moment.”
Serendipity nodded and took the seat he offered her, and Corey went into the kitchen where he found Mr. Waddlebug with Pozzletot in his cupped hands. The two seemed to be deep in conversation.
“Whatever are you doing?” Corey asked his assistant who stood near the cook stove, a pot of water beginning a slow march toward boiling for tea.
“I’m saying goodbye,” Mr. Waddlebug replied.
Corey thought for a moment perhaps he saw a tear in the corner of the other man’s eye. “It’s a mouse,” he whispered sharply.
“I know that,” Mr. Waddlebug responded, still staring intently at the adorable creature. “But I’ve grown quite fond of him these past few days.”
“Goodness gracious,” Corey muttered. “Listen, put that thing down, on the ground, where it will come when she calls it.”
“All right,” Mr. Waddlebug agreed, though he put Pozzletot back on the counter instead.
“What’s this?” Corey asked. There was a large white and blue flowering plant taking up a considerable amount of counter space and while he wasn’t positive, he was quite sure he had not seen it there before.
“It’s a gift,” his assistant explained. “A snow poinsettia, or something. It’s from…”
“Ingrid,” Corey completed the sentence for him. Pulling the card out of the plastic pick stuck inside the flower pot, he read quickly, “Do the right thing, Corey.” Shaking his head he tossed the card back on the counter out of the way. Then, returning his attention to Waddlebug, he said, “Prepare the tea, and make sure that you put this in her cup.” With that, he pulled the small flask containing the powerful blue liquid out of his pocket and shoved into the mit of his assistant who stared at it in trepidation. “What is it?” Corey asked, still annoyed.
“Nothing,” Waddlebug said, staring at the flask. “It’s only… I’m not sure I want to be a part of this. I don’t think you should do it, make her stay if she doesn’t want to.”
With a huff, Corey took the flask back, shoving it into his pants pocket. “Fine. Then, when the tea is ready, call me in, and I shall put it in for you. All right?”
Without saying a word, Mr. Waddlebug nodded solemnly and watched as Corey crossed back over to the door. As always, his disposition changed as he pushed the door open, the smile returning to his face in order to appease his company.
Serendipity was sitting in the same chair his mother preferred, staring at the fireplace. “Is everything all right?” she asked as Corey exited the kitchen. She could tell by his expression that he was upset about something. It was that forced smile again, not the one she had grown accustomed to seeing when he was actually happy.
“Yes, of course. Everything is fine. Mr. Waddlebug just needed some assistance in the kitchen,” he said over his shoulder.
“Oh, shall I help him?” Serendipity asked, as if she were about to stand.
“No, everything is fine now, I believe,” Corey replied, sitting down across from her. “Please, rest. You’ve had a long day. You must be tired.”
“I am, actually,” Serendipity admitted, covering her mouth as she yawned.
“You know, if you’d like to stay here tonight--that is in the Village, not here, in my home, but in my parents’ perhaps, or somewhere else--arrangements could be made. You do seem like you need a rest.” Corey wasn’t quite sure why all of his words were coming out so jumbled as he watched her rest her head back against the seat, her eyes beginning to stay closed a bit longer with each blink, her cheeks becoming a rosy pink hue from the warmth of the fire.
“I’m fine,” Serendipity insisted, though her drowsiness was quite telling. “I shouldn’t want to be a bother to anyone.”
“It would be no bother, I assure you,” Corey replied.
Serendipity smiled at his kindness, and raising her head a bit, she asked, “Tell me about your parents, Corey. And you have a brother, don’t you?”
“Yes, one brother, Cassius. He and his wife Pyoria run the candy cane business, which he inherited from my father, Cristobal, and his father before him,” he explained, straightening his suit jacket.
“That must be delightful,” Serendipity replied her enthusiasm damped only by the extreme fatigue she was beginning to feel.
“I suppose so,” Corey responded with a shrug. “I never knew or cared much about the candy cane business. I always thought I’d be off doing more important--different--things.”
Serendipity straightened up a bit. “Do you find your family business unimportant, then, Mr. Cane?” she asked her eyes studying him closely.
He could see no judgement in her expression, only curiosity. “No, not really. I mean, perhaps, a bit. But it doesn't’ really matter. Since my brother is older than I, it was always a given that he would take over the business. And I would do… something else.”
“But you do enjoy your field, don’t you?” Serendipity clarified.
“I do, very much,” he assured her. “I guess, I just always wondered what it might be like to actually make something, you know? Rather than simply facilitating the making by providing the artists.”
“There’s nothing quite like seeing something that has only lived in your mind come to live before your very eyes,” Serendipity admitted, a faroff expression taking over her face.
Corey nodded. “I’m sure that’s true. I wouldn’t know.”
“Haven’t you ever made… anything?” she asked, turning her attention back to him.
“Not that I recall,” he admitted. “Perhaps a picture or something of clay when I was a child.”
Serendipity’s bottom lipped dropped to form a frown. “I’m sorry to hear that. I should love to help you design and make something of your own creation.”
Corey snickered. “I’m not quite sure I’m capable of that.”
“Of course you are,” Serendipity replied. “Everyone can make something.” She watched as he shrugged his shoulders as if to say he didn't’ quite believe her. “Tell me, what is it that you would like to make, if you could make anything in the world.”
She thought it might take him a moment to answer, but it didn’t. It was as if he had been thinking about it for some time. “I think I should like to make toy ships,” he replied, hoping his answer didn’t bring back upsetting memories for her.
It did not. Quite the contrary, Serendipity smiled broadly. “My father used to like to make toy ships, in a bottle. Have you seen those before?” He nodded that he had and she continued. “I used to help him some. I should think I would be able to show you how, someday, if you would like that.”
“I think I should,” Corey replied, smiling. His hand rested atop his pocket, atop the flask, and he began to think he wouldn’t be needing it afterall.
“Of course, you would have to come to my cottage to learn,” she continued. “Since I won’t be staying.”
Corey’s face fell. “You’ve made up your mind then?” he asked solemnly.
“Mr. Cane,” Serendipity said with a sigh, “my mind was made up before I even left my home, now wasn’t it?”
“Yes, of course,” he replied, the disingenuous smile spreading over his face. “Will you excuse me a moment? I think I shall go check on Mr. Waddlebug.”
“Certainly,” Serendipity said, returning her gaze to the fireplace.
As Corey made his way into the kitchen, he let out a heavy sigh. It seemed he was going to have to do this the hard way after all. “Whatever is taking you so long? And why is that mouse still on the counter?” he asked, eyeing Pozzletot closely.
“Oh, I… forgot to release him,” he replied, clearly not wanting to let Pozzletot go just yet. “And then there’s a matter of the gingersnaps. The ones I baked yesterday were a bit stale, so I was going to make some more. But then I realized we needed more eggs. So, I went out to the hen house to fetch a few, but there weren’t any. So then I came back in and was trying to determine what else to make, but I couldn’t decide. And then….”
“Oh for the love of... . Here,” Corey cried in frustration, thrusting two eggs in his direction, which he had clearly produced out of thin air.
“Is everything all right in there?” Serendipity called from the living room, obviously hearing the frustration in Corey’s voice even if she couldn’t make out the words.
“Everything is fine,” he assured her, infusing his voice with some fake cheer. “You know what, on second thought….” He waved his hands again and the eggs became a plate of perfectly frosted gingerbread men.
“Well, that’s all fine and good,” Mr. Waddlebug stated sharply, holding the magical silver platter as if it were made of poison. “But if you’re simply going to create cookies for your guests, what do you need me for?”
“Mr. Waddlebug, this is no time to debate the necessity of your position,” Corey groaned. Taking the flask back out of his pocket, he added, “Just finish the tea, and call me back in when it’s ready so I can…”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can help with?” Serendipity asked, the closeness of her voice alerting them that she was approaching the door.
“Everything is fine!” Corey repeated, sitting the flask down on the counter and running towards the door to prevent her from entering.
He met her in the doorway just in time. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I haven’t been in a kitchen for years, but I do now how to boil water.”
She was smiling up at him, a curious expression dancing in her eyes, and he wasn’t quite sure what she was up to. Was she suspicious? Did she not trust him? “Ms. Fizzlestitch, I assure you, Mr. Waddlebug is doing just fine on his own. Now, if you’ll return to your seat…”
“What’s that?” Serendipity asked, looking past Corey’s head at the top of the doorway.
Glancing up, Corey realized where they were standing. “Oh, that,” he exclaimed. “That’s uh… mistletoe. I guess one of the elves who decorates my home must have hung that there out of amusement.”
“Oh?” Serendipity replied, her eyebrows raised. “What is it for?”
“You don’t know the legend of the mistletoe?” Corey asked, surprised. Serendipity shook her head, and so he began to explain. “Well, it’s tradition, in some parts, I suppose, that… when a couple stands beneath the mistletoe… the gentleman is supposed to kiss the lady. That’s all.”
“Oh,” she repeated herself, this time her tone completely different.
“Oh,” she repeated herself, this time her tone completely different.
She was leaning back against the doorframe, her hands resting behind her waist, her head tilted up, her eyes looking at him intently, and Corey felt mesmerized by whatever magic spell it was she had placed him under. He hesitated slightly, not sure what her intention might be, but then, no longer able to contain himself, he leaned forward and slowly situated his lips just above hers, waiting a second to see if she would pull away. She did not, and so he continued in his pursuit and lightly kissed her fully on the lips. Serendipity gasped, but he felt her soft lips leaning into his, so he slid his hand up the side of her face and pulled her towards him, increasing the passion as he did so. She responded by placing her hand on his shoulder and pressing her mouth into his, slowly sliding her hand up to the back of his neck. After a moment, he released her, leaving a small distance between them as he breathed her in. Her face was flushed, her lips a bit swollen, and she seemed to be slightly out of breath. “Like that,” he said quietly.
“I see,” she said quietly, slowly drawing her hand away from him.
Corey closely considered the possibility of kissing her again when he heard the teapot whistle from the kitchen. “Will you excuse me?” he asked quietly, still hovering just above her perfect, porcelain face.
“Yes, of course,” she replied, a small smile teasing the corners of her mouth.
Corey stepped back into the kitchen, hearing her cross back over to the chair, stopping to rub his face with both hands.
“It’s ready,” Mr. Waddlebug said, setting the teapot down on a pot holder. “Whatever you decide to do, Mr. Cane, I won’t be a part of it.”
“You don’t understand,” Corey said, fingering the flask in his pocket. “I can’t let her leave, Mr. Waddlebug.”
“Can’t or won’t?” the old elf asked. “Are you doing what’s best for her, or what’s best for you?” And without waiting for an answer, he shuffled off out the back door, slamming it behind him.
Corey took the flask out of his pocket and looked at it carefully. It was no longer just about doing his job well, having a perfect record, proving to St. Nicholas that he was worthy of his position. He knew now, if Serendipity were to leave the North Pole, if he no longer had her in his life, he would never be the same. Nevertheless, would forcing her to stay change who she was and how she thought of him? Would he ever be able to convince her that he had acted on her behalf? She would be so much happier here, so much more fulfilled. With a deep sigh, he popped the cork off of the flask and made his decision, pouring the blue liquid into his chosen container.
Shoving the empty flask back into his pocket, Corey picked up the tray and walked into the great room. Serendipity looked as if she had dozed off perhaps. Her eyes flew open at the sound of the door, but she smiled at him, a sheepish expression on her face, and he sat the tray down next to her, taking one of the teacups in his hand as he did so. “Mr. Waddlebug wanted everything to be perfect. Sorry for the delay,” he explained taking his seat across from her.
“Gingerbread!” Serendipity exclaimed, breathing in deeply. “How delightful!” She picked up the remaining teacup and sat it aside. “Aren’t you going to have one?” she asked, gesturing at the tray of neatly dressed gents.
“None for me,” Corey replied, sipping his tea slowly. “I’ve never been much of a gingerbread fanatic.”
“No?” Serendipity questioned, choosing a nice fat fellow from amongst the group and breaking off his leg. “I haven’t had any in… years. Not since before my father passed away. My mother forbade me from having sweets.”
“Really?” Corey asked, sitting his cup aside and watching her as she continued to speak, the severed leg bouncing around in her hand as she did so.
“Well, my father spoilt me a bit. He always brought me the best sweets from his trips--candies from Germany, chocolates from France. So, when he died, my mother decided I should no longer have such sugary treats. Although, I was… allowed, as she would say, to bake them for my sisters.” Her face grew a bit solemn. “That’s why… they were eating the cake that day, and I… I wasn’t.”
“I see,” Corey replied, an equally somber expression on his face. “I’m sorry to bring back such horrible memories.”
“No,” Serendipity corrected, still gesturing with the gingerbread man’s leg. “Don’t be sorry. It… it helps a bit to talk about it, I think.”
“Well, talk about it as much as you’d like,” Corey said, smiling. “I’ll do what I can to help you move on, Serendipity.”
“Thank you,” she said returning his smile. She raised the broken piece of gingerbread to her lips and took a bite at last. “Oh, my goodness! This is… this is delicious! Your Mr. Waddlebug is a superb baker,” she continued while chewing. “I shall have to meet him.”
“Perhaps in a bit,” Corey replied, his hands folded on his lap. “He’s just stepped out.”
“Oh, well, he’s a master in the kitchen, that is for certain,” Serendipity said, continuing to munch down the rest of the leg, followed by another of the gingerbread man’s limbs.
“Do drink you tea,” Corey insisted, gesturing towards her teacup.
“Yes, of course,” Serendipity replied, raising the cup in her hand. “It smells divine.”
Corey watched as she slowly raised the cup to her lips, those perfect, soft lips he had been kissing only a few moments ago, and watched her swallow the warm liquid. He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead with his hand, his elbow leaning on the armrest.
“Is everything all right?” Serendipity asked, concern in her voice. She sat the teacup and the rest of the gingerbread man back on the platter and leaned forward in her chair.
“Yes, everything is fine,” Corey assured her. “I’m just suddenly very tired.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Serendipity said, brushing cookie crumbs off of her hands. “Perhaps it would be better if I did stay until tomorrow then. I’d hate to trouble you to take me home when you’re not feeling up to it.”
Corey considered her statement for a moment. “I know how badly you’d like to get back.”
“Well, I am in a bit of a rush. I do have several dolls that need finishing,” Serendipity admitted. “But if I could just find Pozzletot, I should think I’d be all right to spend the night. That is, if you think your parents wouldn’t mind so much.”
“I don’t think they would mind at all,” Corey said. “However, I do have a guest room myself, if you think you should like to stay here instead. Mr. Waddlebug will be present the whole time, so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything… inappropriate.”
Serendipity giggled. “I wouldn’t be worried about anything like that, what with you dozing off in the armchair.”
Corey laughed, though he wasn’t sure why he was suddenly feeling quite so tired. Perhaps it was the stress of the day. “Shall we go into the kitchen and see if you can find your mouse friend there?”
“Oh, yes!” Serendipity exclaimed, practically leaping from the chair. Laughing at her exuberance, Corey followed her, standing clear of the mistletoe as he pushed the door open for her to make her way into the kitchen. “What a lovely flower!” Serendipity cried, eyeing the frozen poinsettia on the counter. “What is it?”
“It is a frozen poinsettia,” he replied, “a rare flower that blooms only in the North Pole.”
“Is it magical?” she asked reaching out to delicately touch the smooth surface of the bloom.
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Corey admitted. “Though I wouldn’t be too surprised. It was a gift from the Snow Queen.”
“The Snow Queen?” Serendipity asked, turning to face him. “Like in the book by Hans Christian Anderson?”
Corey leaned against the counter next to her, a consternated look upon his handsome face. “I’m not sure of that either,” he replied. “I’m not familiar with that story.”
“Really?” Serendipity gasped in surprise. “Oh, you simply must read it. My father used to read it to me all the time. It’s all about how the Snow Queen lived way up in the Alps. Many suitors came to call, but each time she let the goblins devour them, until one handsome hunter comes a calling and…”
“He melts her frozen heart?”
“Yes, but then the goblins get him, too, and he dies.”
“Lovely story,” Corey said, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, but it is; it really is. Especially at the end when the Snow Queen becomes a woman and realizes that there is nothing more important in the world than true love--nothing.”
Corey looked into her icy blue eyes just then and realized what she was saying was true. “Serendipity,” he said quietly. “There’s something you need to know.”
“What’s that?” she asked releasing the flower to give him her full attention.
“You can’t leave,” Corey replied, touching her lightly on the arm.
Serendipity held his gaze for a long moment before looking away. “I have to…” she whispered.
“No, you can’t,” he said again, reaching up to touch the soft skin of her cheek. “I can’t be without you….”
“Oh, Corey,” Serendipity sighed, placing her hand over his. “Let’s not think on it just now, all right? We can talk about it again tomorrow. For now, let us just find Pozzletot and get some rest.”
Stroking her cheek one last time, Corey nodded his head, releasing her.
Serendipity smiled fondly and then said, “Now, wherever is that silly little mouse?”
As she began to scour the baseboards, Corey sighed deeply again. At least, for now, she had agreed to stay. If he could continue to prolong her willingness to stay just one day at a time, soon she would forget that she ever wanted to leave in the first place.
And then, the Snow Queen’s potion wouldn’t make any difference at all. She’d be staying with him because she wanted to, not because she was forced to.
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