Behind her, Ebenezer Scrooge looked over her shoulder. “You’ve messed up Mrs. Bigman’s order. Her son is never going to get his cookies.”
“I did not,” Molly insisted.
Suddenly there stood Mrs. Bigman, shaking a finger at her. “The cookies didn’t arrive! Where’s your boss? I’m going to get you fired.”
“I’m her boss,” said Ebenezer. “And she’ll pay for this.”
Suddenly there stood all the carriers, and Helen, one of the mail clerks, pointing fingers and chanting, “She’ll pay for this!”
“What can I do? I’m only human,” Molly wailed.
“Make her pay!” cried Mrs. Bigman.
“Oh, she will,” said Mr. Boss Scrooge.
Suddenly he was ten feet tall. He grabbed her by the neck of her red onesie, lifted her up and carried her over to a giant carton filled with packing peanuts and dropped her in.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
He slammed the lid of the box down and she could hear tape being stretched over the top.
She banged on it. “Let me out! I’m claustrophobic!”
“Too bad,” snarled Scrooge. “Ship her to the North Pole. Let Santa deal with her.”
The Santa in her dreams would hardly have been a candidate for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and he certainly wouldn’t have been hired by any mall. Over his red suit he wore a black Dracula cape and when he smiled, he had fangs.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her up in front of him so she could see his glare close up. “So, you have a problem with the holidays, do you?”
“No, I don’t!” she insisted, struggling to get free. “I don’t!”
She awoke to find herself tangled in her covers and her cat long gone, and she sighed. Merry Christmas.
Arianna stopped by the post office on her way home from work to mail the thank-you notes Sophie had written to her two aunties—Arianna’s best friends from college, who lived far away but never failed to send Sophie a little something for Christmas. The trip to the post office gave her a chance to see her neighbor Molly, who she and her mother had known for years. Molly had been the one to host the bridal shower for Arianna when she got married. Molly had also sent her flowers the day her divorce was final, along with a card that said,I’ll throw another bridal shower when the right one comes along. Molly was favorite aunt, big sister and best friend all rolled into one.
Even though she lived only a few houses down the street, it seemed like lately the only times Arianna saw her was when she had to mail something. Of course, it was the season to be busy.
It wasn’t so busy on this day, though. After the preholiday mailing rush the post office didn’t have many customers, something for which Molly was probably grateful.
Except the one customer she was with, a skinny woman in leggings and UGGs and an oversized parka, who looked like she was going to do her best to cancel that gratitude. “You can’t close my PO box!” the woman snapped.
“I’m sorry,” Molly said. “You had forty-five days to pay. That’s all we can allow. Other people are waiting to get post office boxes and we can’t hold ones that haven’t been paid for indefinitely.”
“What about my mail?” the woman demanded.
Molly looked almost guilty, as if it were somehow her fault this woman hadn’t paid for her post office box. “It’s returned to the sender.”
“My aunt’s sending me a check!” the woman screeched. “What is wrong with you people? Don’t you know it’s Christmas?”
“Look, you can apply for another box,” Molly said.
The woman had some very uncomfortable suggestions for what Molly could do with another post office box. She whirled around and marched off toward the stairs, swearing under her breath and nearly knocking Arianna over as she passed.
“Looks like she’s going to have a happy New Year,” Arianna observed as she stepped up to the window.
Molly shook her head. “I hate my job.”
Poor Molly. She sure didn’t deserve the grief so many of her postal customers gave her.
