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The Best Blue Christmas
The Best Blue Christmas
The Best Blue Christmas
Ebook52 pages39 minutes

The Best Blue Christmas

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Cassidy suffered some past tragedy at Christmas time that has forever tainted her view of the holidays. To put it bluntly, she HATES Christmas! It's just one of the reasons she ran away to the Yukon - so that she wouldn't have to face family each year in December. But, she finds an unlikely ally in her outdoorsy neighbour, Brad. After attending the advertised 'Blue Christmas' celebration at the Anglican church, they make a pact to help one another get through the season. However, the more time they spend together, the more they realize that Christmas might not be so bad after all... depending on who you're with!

LanguageEnglish
PublisherTracy Krauss
Release dateDec 5, 2020
ISBN9781988447636
The Best Blue Christmas
Author

Tracy Krauss

Tracy Krauss is a best selling and award winning author and playwright. "Fiction on the edge without crossing the line"

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    Book preview

    The Best Blue Christmas - Tracy Krauss

    CHAPTER 1

    "I t’s the most wonderful time of the year…"

    A muscle ticked in Cassidy’s jaw and she pulled the knitted hat further down over her ears, wishing it would provide just a little more insulation from the incessant noise. The tune invaded every corner of the overstuffed department store, a famous country singer crooning the words as if he really believed them. The sooner she got out of there the better.

    Merry Christmas! Barbara Howard, the owner of the store, waved as Cassidy rounded the personal grooming aisle. Barbara, a middle-aged woman with dull brown hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, was restocking a variety of hair dye products. Can I help you find something? she asked with a smile.

    Um. I just needed to pick up some shampoo. Cassidy side-stepped Barbara and the cardboard container sitting in the middle of the aisle. Maybe the older woman should try some of those products herself.

    Cassidy stopped in front of the shampoo and tugged at her hat. It itched. She’d been about to take a shower that morning when she realized she was out of shampoo. Good thing Howards Department Store - the town’s one and only - was just a block from her apartment. The knitted hat covered her hair and nobody knew she was still wearing her pyjamas under her snow pants and ski jacket.

    She scanned her choices and then grabbed a bottle with a little more force than necessary. Its shelf mate toppled to the side, starting a domino effect whose end was an assortment of personal grooming products in a pile on the floor.

    Cassidy clenched her jaw to keep from letting out any colourful language and stooped to pick up a couple of bottles. It was the music’s fault. That crazy noise blaring in the background made her jumpy.

    Don’t worry about it, dear. Barbara was by her side. George likes all the labels facing the same way, so it’s best if I do it.

    Cassidy acquiesced, shoving a bottle into the other woman’s hands. George Howard was known for his borderline OCD, so she’d gladly let Barbara deal with it. Besides, she couldn’t tolerate another moment of that music.

    Cassidy made a bee-line to the cash register and dumped the lonely shampoo bottle on the counter. An acne-faced youth rang in the purchase. Would you like a bag for five cents?

    Cassidy shook her head. No thanks.

    The boy handed over the shampoo. Merry Christmas. His tone was flat and emotionless.

    Perfect. It was the first thing that brought a smile to Cassidy’s lips that day.

    If she was honest with herself, it was the first thing that brought a smile since the calendar had rolled around to December.

    Cassidy gave the exit an extra hard push on her way out of the building. The window was totally frosted over, making it useless as a porthole, and the build-up of ice on the bottom of the door scraped with the horrifying precision of fingernails on a chalkboard.

    The instant Cassidy met the outdoors, her cheeks started to tingle. Her breath wafted out in a cloud of condensation, stemmed but not corked as she wound her scarf over her face. Who willfully chose to live in this

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