The One Night Stand Before Christmas - Jana Aston Page 0,1

is.

As far as my own love life, forgive a girl for being a cynic, but I’ve learned a thing or two over the years. Which is: he’s never the catch Grandma thinks he is. Never ever.

Once everyone is settled playing canasta I head back to my office down the hall. I’m a program supervisor for the city of Reindeer Falls, overseeing the adult programs, which includes everything from the softball leagues to the senior programs. Except we don’t call them senior programs anymore. Active adults is the preferred term now, in case you didn’t know. Older adults want to be appreciated for the place they’re at in life. Retired, but still full of vitality and energy. Our active adult programs are aimed to service the members of our community who aren’t anywhere near ready to leave their homes for a retirement village but perhaps need a bit of community. A place to meet and play cards or volunteer. That’s all coordinated through me.

My co-worker Jillian supervises the youth programs, which covers everything from youth sports to summer camps to the crowning of the annual Candy Cane Princess each winter.

Her office is directly next to mine.

And it sounds like trouble is brewing in Reindeer Falls.

Luckily I always have commiseration cookies on hand due to my sister being a baker, so I grab the tin filled with her latest offerings and head over to find out what’s happening.

“What’s going on?” I ask, setting my coffee on the edge of Jillian’s desk before flopping into a stuffed armchair located in the corner of Jillian’s office. I pry open the tin without waiting on a response.

Jillian doesn’t disappoint.

“The Hobby Reindeer Championships,” she says, swiveling in her desk chair to face me, grabbing the tin from my hands the moment I’ve plucked one out for myself. “Ohhh, what’d Ginger make for us this time?”

“I think they’re ginger scones,” I say before taking a bite. “Yup,” I add around a mouthful of scone. “She’s been on a scone kick ever since her Keller James crush went into overdrive.” The Food Network is filming a gingerbread-baking competition in Reindeer Falls and my sister Ginger is in the finals. Also in the finals—Keller James, a celebrity chef from Britain she’s got a massive thing for. I’m pretty sure those two are making out like teenagers every time the camera stops rolling. And the feeling is mutual based on the way he looks at her. I’m happy for my sister, of course I am. Both of my sisters. Because the other one is currently on a business trip with her boss whom she claims to hate but we all know she’s secretly in love with.

Happy, happy, happy.

“Can we focus on the Hobby Reindeer Championships? Tell me everything. Beginning with what a Hobby Reindeer Championship is.” I get comfortable in the chair, preparing for an entertaining story because with Jillian, they often are.

“Okay, so, you know when you were a kid and you had a stick horse?”

“Um, no.” I shake my head in the negative before reaching for my coffee and taking a sip.

“Yes, you do.” She’s nearly aghast that I have no idea what she’s talking about. “You know, it was a stuffed horse head on a long wooden stick? Like a broomstick with a horse head? Surely you had one! Though now that I’m saying it out loud it does sound weird…” She trails off here, her face scrunched up while she mulls over the wonders of childhood.

“Right, okay. I remember those. We used to gallop around the house with them pretending we were cowgirls.”

“Right!” Jillian’s eyes light up. “So last summer I saw this documentary about hobbyhorse girls.”

“Hobbyhorse girls?” I repeat, not sure I have a clue where this is going.

“Exactly.” Jillian nods excitedly. “For years they were a secret society in Finland. For years,” she says again, stressing the importance of the words. “These young girls invented a form of hobbyhorse dressage in which they would prance and gallop like horses and enter competitions, but it was all very hush-hush.”

“Okay.” I draw the word out, even more confused than I was a moment before.

“It’s a really big deal in Finland. They make their own hobbyhorses, enter into jumping competitions, go to hobbyhorse conventions.” Jillian pauses to stuff a bite of scone into her mouth before adding, “You should watch the documentary. It was really uplifting.”

“Jillian?”

“Yeah?”

“What does that have to do with the Hobby Reindeer Championships?” I prod, even though I have an idea exactly what it