Chapter 1

I was at my desk trying to get work done. I could hear Christmas music and laughter coming from the conference room. One of those bubble gum pop Christmas song covers was distracting me - as was the smell of overcooked baked ziti. 

I turned my head into the conference room to see what they were doing now. Bob had the ugliest of ugly sweaters. Shelly was dressed in her normal business casual skirt and blouse, but accessorized it with a red Santa hat. Jimmy wore a Christmas tie and antlers. And of course, Maria was in a festive elf costume that was a few sizes too small for her, but none of the older men were complaining. Today was our company's Holiday party. Potluck, Deserts, White Elephant and maybe Eggnog. Bah humbug, indeed.

Me? I’m David Wilson. I’ve been working at this small consulting firm for the past few years. I’ve never really been into Christmas. Sure, when I was a kid, Christmas was great. Presents, the magic of Santa, and the warmth of spending time with family. All of that changed when my parents had a rather nasty divorce. Gone was the magic of Christmas. Replaced only by bribes given by each parent trying to win over my love.

Despite all of my coworkers trying to get me into the spirit, I would rather sit here and get my work done. I sat firmly at my desk working on the tasks I was assigned, as if it was only a random work day. Sure I recognized it’s Christmas week. That’s why I wanted to knock these out this week before the holiday weekend. There’s nothing worse than coming back on a Monday after a 3 day weekend, only to have to remember where you left off on an unfinished task.

Plus I wasn’t in the mood. 

Listen, I’m not normally anti-social. I go out for drinks with my co-workers. I can drink Bob under the table. I eat sushi with Shelly on Mondays. I accidently hooked up with Maria 2 summers ago. But Christmas? Nah. I mean, I wouldn’t classify myself as a Grinch or a Scrooge, but maybe more of a Charlie Brown. The holidays have become too commercial and you can’t go an hour without someone wanting to sell you something, or have you donate to something, or straight up want you to give them a gift. The Christmas spirit is something you can buy pre-gift-wrapped on Amazon now. It’s exhausting. It’s been exhausting since my parent’s divorce.

I heard laughter coming from the conference room. They’re playing White Elephant. I hate that game. Why should we all waste twenty dollars to buy a shitty gift that will get thrown away tomorrow?

I caught a glimpse of Bob’s sweater as he walked by my desk. Likely heading to the bathroom. God that’s an ugly sweater. I can’t believe he actually paid for that.

I wasn’t looking forward to the long weekend. I don’t really have anywhere to go. Both of my parents remarried and had more kids. So I’m largely forgotten. No family, no girlfriend. All of my friends are busy with their own families. So it’ll just be me stuck at home trying to find a restaurant that’s actually open on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. 

I’d rather just stay at work.

Speaking of, the company president, Elliot stopped by my cubicle, holding what appeared to be a cup of eggnog. A part of me wants to take a shot of whatever they spiked the eggnog with. But I have to get this work done. I’ll get a drink when I get home.

“David,” he said. “You didn’t want to join us in the conference room? Shelly got the worst white elephant gift. Oh, and you should taste Maria’s apple crumb cake.”

“Nah” I said. “I had a few things I wanted to get done.” I could mention that I’m not really in the Christmas spirit, but experience has shown me that once I say that, people try to push their version of Christmas spirit on me. I bet 3 of them would dress up like ghosts and bug me for the next 3 hours. I imagine Bob would be the ghost of Christmas present. Maria would be Christmas past. Now who would be Christmas future?

“I wanted to make sure you got the memo I sent earlier today.” he asked.

“Which one, sir?” I tried not to roll my eyes. Elliot sends so many emails.

“The one that said I’m giving everyone the rest of the week off.”

“The rest of the week?” I said, unable to hide my frustration. “It’s only Tuesday. Christmas isn’t until Saturday.”

“The company has done very good this year. I figured I’d give everyone extra paid days off.”

“I was planning on working tomorrow and Thursday,” I said.

“Stay home, David. You earned it.”

I tried to hide my disappointment. I’m not done with my stuff. What am I going to do at home in an empty house for a 5 day weekend? Call my parental figures? Scroll social media looking at friends posting pictures of food, drinks, family and gifts?

“Before we all head out for the weekend,” he said. “I just wanted you to know that your hard work hadn’t gone unnoticed. You’re doing a great job.”

“Thank you, sir” I replied, feeling a little better about the earlier bombshell.

“After the holidays I’d like to promote you up to the front side of the house. I think you’d really thrive there.”

“Oh wow.” I said. “That would be awesome.” Well, at least now I have something to look forward to once the holiday season is over.

“Well, I’m going to get back to the party. Merry Christmas, David - and don’t stay too long. There’s a storm coming. I’m also giving everyone the rest of the afternoon off to get home safely.”

Great, let's tack on an extra 3 hours to the already-too-long weekend. Wait, a storm? I hadn’t seen that. As he turned away, I forced out a “Thank you sir.”

I pulled up my browser to check the weather. Sure enough a large winter storm was headed our way.

What the hell? We never got snow storms in December. If we do, it never sticks. I bet it’ll just rain.

I looked at the time. I can probably squeeze in another hour before I have to leave.

* * *

An hour later the office was quiet. My coworkers had all gone home and took their holiday spirit with them. Only the smell of burnt baked ziti was left.

I had just finished up my tasks I set out to finish. I stood up to stretch my arms and legs when I saw the window. It was dark outside and I could see snowflakes bouncing off the glass.

“Shit” I said out loud. “The storm.”

I packed up my stuff, threw on my jacket and made my way out of the office.

I walked through the vacant parking garage. I could see the snow whipping around outside the walls of the garage. I threw my stuff into my car, got into the car and drove into the storm.

Thankfully nobody was on the road. Everyone must’ve had the same sense of urgency as my co-workers did. Now I’m mad at myself. I was careless. My frustrations at the long weekend made me put more emphasis on my work than getting ahead of the snow.

Visibility on the road was getting worse. It was getting hard to see the lines.

Up ahead I could see the red light of a truck’s tail lights. They were going slow, and I caught up to it very quickly.

It was a truck hauling Christmas trees and they were going super slow.

I turned on the radio to break up the silence. The station I normally listen to is talking about the storm. The next station on my preset is playing “I’ll be home for Christmas.” Ugh.

I was about to change the station again when the truck’s brake lights lit up and I hit my own breaks.

“This guy is annoying me” I thought.

I attempted to pass the truck, but was met by another car coming in the opposite direction, so I quickly returned to my lane. As I did that my tires lost traction on the slick snow covered road.

“Shit!”

My car skidded back and forth. I slammed on the breaks. The car’s anti-lock brakes locked up. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, my car finally came to a stop on the shoulder of the road in front of a telephone pole. I came really close to hitting it.

My heart was beating like crazy as I caught my breath.

I slammed my hand on the steering wheel as I saw the truck’s taillights fade into the snowy distance.

Wow. Nothing like a near accident to shake some fear in you. I sat there quietly listening to the windshield wipers brush the snow away and the radio still playing that song. “If only in my dreams,” the crooner sang.

I’m only a little shaken, so I gingerly pulled back into the road and resumed my trek home. This time I was a little more patient.

* * *

I entered my cold townhouse and threw down my stuff. I then turned on the lights and adjusted the thermostat. Time to find dinner.

I took a bagged TV dinner out of the freezer, opened it and dumped it into a skillet and started cooking it.

While that was cooking, I returned to the living room where I flipped through the TV channels. The local news was talking about the storm. The national news was talking about crime rates, inflation and a gridlocked congress. Experts were throwing politicians under the bus.

The next channel was talking about pandemic infection rates. “Wasn’t this shit supposed to be over last year?” I said to the TV.

The next channel had a cheesy Christmas movie. I rolled my eyes. 

I then smelled my dinner. I got up and returned to the kitchen to tend to my dinner and stirred the skillet. Once it was done, I poured the contents into a dish, grabbed a fork from the drying rack and brought my dinner back to the living room.

I set my plate down on the TV tray and sat on the couch. I grabbed the remote. “There has to be something better on.”

Before I changed the channel, I saw the female lead of this movie. A buxom blonde woman wearing a business suit.

These movies are so predictable and cliché. “Let me guess,” I said. “City girl goes home to the country to learn that small towns are better.”

I took a bite of my food and I flipped the channel. Another Christmas movie.

“A remake of a Christmas Carol” I said.

I flipped the channel again.

“Oh look. Mom and dad got divorced and all the kids want for Christmas is to get them back together” Been there, done that. It never works like that.

I flipped the channel again.

“Evil corporate business man ruins Christmas for the entire town.”

I chuckled and ate some more of my dinner. I flipped the channel again.

In this one, all I saw was a road in a snowstorm. “Ha.” I said. “This one seems more like reality.”

The power to my house flickered for a moment. I could hear the wind really picking up outside. I’m glad I finished making my dinner.

I turned my attention back to the TV. The song “I’ll be home for Christmas” was playing. Just like in my car before I got run off the road. That’s a weird coincidence.

Just then the power went out. All of my lights were off. Except the TV. 

The TV was still on. The show still showed a car driving through a snowstorm. “I’ll be home for Christmas” was still playing.

I put my fork down on my plate and I pressed buttons on the remote, but the TV didn’t change.

The song played on, “Christmas eve will find me, where the love light gleams...”

“What the hell?” I said. I popped open the remote’s battery cover. As I did that, I suddenly got dizzy.

I closed my eyes and felt my equilibrium off. Was I moving? I dropped the remote. I went to grab the TV tray in front of me, only felt - a steering wheel?

I opened my eyes and all I saw was the road and the snow storm. But it wasn’t a TV screen. I put my hands out and grabbed the steering wheel. It was real.

I looked to my sides. I was in a car. Not my car, but a car. I was disoriented. What just happened?

Suddenly I saw lights in front of me. Shops. Pedestrians. I slammed on the brakes. The car started to skid. I saw people duck out of the way of the car. Suddenly I noticed I was heading straight for a massive Christmas tree. I couldn’t stop. The steering wheel wasn’t doing anything. I tensed up as the car slammed into the base of the tree.

Next thing I knew an airbag punched my face and my neck snapped back to the headrest. A second later I heard another crash as the tree and ornaments came crashing down on the car.

I was stunned. The radio was still playing that damn song. “I'll be home for Christmas...” I could also hear a buzzing in my head. 

A knock on the driver's side window caught my attention.

“Miss, are you OK?”

“I..” I stuttered. “I didn’t see the tree there.”

I opened the door. Why won’t this buzzing go away?

“No miss, please, don’t move, stay there.” the voice insisted. “The paramedics are on their way.”

I looked out the windows of the car. I’m in the middle of a downtown street. I can see lit up store fronts all decorated for the holiday. I could’ve sworn I was driving in the middle of nowhere. In the middle of a snow storm. Pedestrians were gathering to see the car crash. 

I looked into the rear view mirror to see unfamiliar eyes staring back at me. Is there someone in the car with me? I tried to turn my head but my neck hurt too much.

“What’s your name?” the voice asked.

“David” I responded in a daze. My voice sounds off. I started to notice more and more onlookers looking at the accident. Why are these people out in a snowstorm?

“Is David your husband?” the voice asked.

“What? No.” Why is this person asking me strange questions? Why is my voice hoarse? My head hurts.

A minute or two went by and an Ambulance pulled right beside me. A paramedic came and helped me out of the car and onto a gurney.

“I’m OK, really” I said. I saw my arm. Why am I wearing a red sweater? That’s not what I was wearing today.

I looked over at the paramedic. She’s rather cute. She could totally be a movie star instead of a paramedic. Maybe I should get her number.

“Miss, does anything hurt?” she asked. 

Why do they keep calling me “miss?”

“My neck is stiff.” I said. “And I have a headache.”

“What’s your name?”

“David,” I replied.

The paramedic looked at me curiously. Then she held up her hand. “Can you look at my hand and follow it?” She moved it from side to side and I watched it.

“Miss, you have a concussion.” the paramedic said. “We’re going to take you to Memorial to make sure there’s nothing more serious. Please lay down.”

Memorial? Where is that? I laid down on the gurney as they rolled it into the back of an ambulance. How embarrassing. I bet this ride is going to cost a fortune.

The moment the ambulance started to move, I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

I woke up staring at the ceiling. I glanced around. I’m in a hospital. I turned to both sides to see that I was in the only bed in this room. This is a nice hospital. Very clean and organized. And I get my own room. I remember having my appendix taken out a few years back in some shit hole in the city.

“Oh Laura, you’re awake.” I heard a woman say.

I looked at the source of the voice and found a woman in her 40’s standing over me. She was wearing a Christmas sweater and jeans. 

“Um..” I said. “Were you talking to me?” My voice is still wrong.

“Yes, honey.”

“Honey? Do I know you?”

The woman had a shocked look on her face, and stepped back away from me. “Dr. Coleman!”

A doctor entered the room. She was an older stately woman. Gray hair. Glasses. White medical coat, with stethoscope dangling from her neck. “Oh she’s awake.” she said.

“She doesn’t know me.” the woman said to the doctor.

The doctor stood next to me. “Hey sweetie, can you tell me your name?”

“David.” I replied. I’m starting to get frustrated with these people.

“You mentioned David at the crash.” the doctor said. “Is he a friend?”

“That’s my name,” I said, raising my voice.

The woman in the corner started visibly crying.

“What the hell is going on here?” I said sitting up. I then noticed the IV stuck into my arm. Only - that’s not my arm. It was thinner. It had no hair on it. It was a feminine arm. Then I noticed red and green nail polish on my hand. Then my other hand. I held up both feminine hands to my face.

Then I looked down and saw two bumps tenting a hospital gown over my chest. I instantly felt them. “Oh my god I have breasts,” I said out loud. “What have you done to me?”

“Does she have amnesia?” the woman asked.

“Sweetie,” the doctor said to me. “Can you tell me your name and address?”

“I..” I started. I looked at them. I wanted to tell them my name again, but every time I say David, they flip out. If I play it cool, I can get out of here quicker. “I don’t know”

“Your name is Laura Williams” the woman said, chiming in. “You're my daughter. I’m Mom.”

Mom? She can’t be much older than me. Or she looks great for her age. Well now I know why she’s so emotional. But she’s not my mother.

The doctor glanced annoyingly at the woman for interrupting her, then returned her attention back to me. “Do you remember the crash at all?” the doctor asked. “The police are here and are looking to ask you some questions.”

I saw a pair of cops standing outside the hospital door. What do I tell the doctor? Too late, they decided to come in without me even answering the question.

“Excuse us, Dr. Coleman,” one officer said, then turned his attention to me. “Ms. Williams” can I ask you a few questions?

I looked at him.

“Ms. Williams?”

Oh, that’s me! “Sure, I suppose,” I answered.

“Where were you heading?”

Remember David, play it cool. “I’m not sure.” I was home eating dinner and then suddenly got transported to a car, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

“Where were you coming from?”

“I… don’t remember.” I shrugged.

The woman claiming to be my mother continued to sob. I rolled my eyes at the over the top waterworks.

“Were you drinking?” the office asked as if they knew the answer to that question.

“No.” Though now I wish I actually did partake in my company eggnog. “But I could certainly use one now.” I smiled.

Not even a chuckle from the officers.

“Toxicology report says she was sober.” Dr. Coleman chimed in.

“Hey, shouldn’t that be private?” I complained.

“Were you playing on your phone?” the officer continued.

“What? I don’t even know where my phone is.” I replied.

“Then how could you not see a 30 foot Christmas tree?”

“It was a massive snow storm.” I replied.

“A flurry is hardly a massive storm” he replied. “That tree was brightly lit up in town square. You went down the wrong way of a one way street, hopped a curb, drove through barricades around it and hit it.”

I shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Mr. Diggs is going to press charges.”

“Who?”

“The Town Council President. The one who put that tree there.”

Well that sucks. I had a flawless driving record too. “Can I go now? I’d like to go home.”

“I’m done here.” the officer said. 

Both cops left the room.

“Aside from a slight concussion, I see no other reason to keep you here.” Dr. Coleman said. “Get some rest. Your muscles may ache for a few days though.”

Without warning, she pulled the IV out of my arm.

“Ouch,” I said.

She then covered the wound with a bandage. The bandage had a picture of Santa Claus on it. Wonderful.

“What about her amnesia?” the lady going by “mom” asked.

“It’s Christmas,” she said, shrugging. “Her memory will come back. These types of things only last for a few days. She’ll be fine.”

Was that her professional medical opinion? I clearly went into the wrong field.

The doctor left, leaving me with the woman claiming to be my mother.

“Thank you, Dr. Coleman.” she said. ”Laura,” she said to me, holding up a clear bag. “Here’s your clothes. Get dressed. I’ll take you home.”

I looked at her then slowly took the bag and looked at the contents. That red sweater I was wearing from the crash. Skinny jeans. Boots. A phone with a lilac colored case. A woman’s wallet. Women’s underwear. Socks. A bra. Panties.

Panties? Wait. Am I naked under this gown? I ran my hand under the gown and was mortified when it reached between my legs and found nothing but stubble where my dick would be. I retracted my hand quickly. 

“It’s gone.” I said out loud to the woman in front of me.

“What is honey?” she asked. “Your car keys? They towed the car to the shop.”

I was mortified. My dick is gone. This is a nightmare. 

The woman stood there annoyed. 

“Never mind” I said, shaking my head. Stray strands of blonde kept getting in my face. I pushed them back behind my ear. I looked at her and waited for her to leave the room.

“You can get dressed now.” she re-emphasized.

I made a “get out gesture” with my eyes and head. She looked confused, so I did it again.

“I’m your mother.” she said, offended I asked her to leave.

“Lady, right now you’re a stranger” I said, reminding her of the amnesia she thinks I have.

Wow. Her face gets red when she’s angry. Actually I’m not sure if it’s anger or sadness. I almost felt empathy for her. The person she thinks is her daughter isn’t and is sitting here talking crazy nonsense. You know what? It’s not my problem. She walked out of the hospital room, closing the door behind her.

I let out a relieved exhale. OK. Now that I have this room to myself. What the hell is going on here? I was eating dinner, watching TV. I felt like I got pulled into the TV. That can’t be real right? As real as suddenly being a woman? 

I need a mirror. I got out of the hospital bed. I noticed a small bathroom attached to this room. A cold breeze filled the back of the hospital gown. I walked barefoot across the room to the bathroom. 

Staring back at me was a very attractive, very endowed blonde woman in her 20’s. 

This can’t be real.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Long blond hair. Hazel eyes. Judging by my distance to the floor, I feel like I’m shorter than I was by a few inches. Maybe 5’4” if I was estimating.

I grabbed a breast over the hospital gown with one of my hands. I felt my hand. I guess this is real. I really do have breasts.

They kept calling me Laura. Who is this Laura? If I’m here in Laura’s body, where is Laura? All I know is this woman is gorgeous. Like she’s a celebrity or something. I don’t recognize her, though.

Enough staring. I better get dressed now. The quicker I’m out of here, the quicker I can get some actual help. Maybe my own doctors. Very likely a lawyer.

I shed off the hospital gown.

I was even more taken back. Wow. I’m stunning. Perky breasts. Perfect hourglass figure. Oh Laura, you have a belly button ring? 

I’m not going to lie. I’m certainly having thoughts about playing with this body. But I can’t right now. Not in this hospital bathroom. 

OK David, back to dressing.

I pulled the panties out of the bag and pulled them up. I watched as they settled nicely on my waist. 

Next up was the bra. I held it up with my thumb and index finger. “Umm,” I said to myself. I had a few girlfriends in the past. They never really went beyond a few dates. I barely could take a bra off. I have never seen a bra put on before. How hard can this be? I put my arms through the straps, held the cups up to these boobs and contorted myself so I could almost see my back and the strap in the mirror. Almost… and I let go and the straps fell down. I tried again. Same result.

As I was contorting, I lost my balance and fell over knocking over towels and bedpans or something.

The woman claiming to be mom came through the door. She looked at me disapprovingly. “What are you doing?”

I turned red with embarrassment. Here I am trying to put a bra on in front of a complete stranger. “I’m having trouble,” I said meekly.

She shook her head. “Stand up.” She motioned with her finger for me to turn around.

I stood up and turned my back to her. 

She clasped the band of the strap for me. “Did you really forget how to put a bra on or are you just doing this for attention?” 

I didn’t answer that. I imagine the real Laura would be embarrassed by this situation as well. Good thing she isn’t here to see it.

Now that I have underwear on, “Mom” started handing me the rest of the clothes. I put them on in front of her. The jeans, the sweater, then the socks and boots.

Then she handed me a cellphone and the wallet. 

“Let’s go,” she said.

I followed her and attempted to slide the cellphone into my back pocket… until I realized there was no back pocket. Thankfully the phone fit into the wallet.

Speaking of wallet. I pulled out the driver's license. It was a New York State license. Cute picture. Laura Williams. Age 25. Female. 5’3”. Blonde Hair, Hazel Eyes. No corrective lenses. Some Address in New York City. Laura is a city girl. Is she originally from this crazy place? Reminds me of those cheesy Christmas movies I was watching back at home.

I put the license back into the wallet. Well at least I know what I’m working with. Now where the hell am I?

* * *

I followed her through the hospital and we exited out onto the street. 

The moment we walked out of the door, I could hear speakers blasting Christmas music. “Christmas (Baby please come home)” was playing from each store. 

I was blinded for a moment, but slowly my eyes adjusted to the sunlight. It was a bright blue sunny day - still cold though. How long was I in there? 

The hospital apparently was located in the middle of a bustling small town. I was surrounded by all sorts of shops. The sidewalks were freshly shoveled and the non-shoveled portions were pristine untouched snow. The sidewalks and streets were crowded with people wearing matching trendy coats and earmuffs and carrying shopping bags emblemized with store names.

This scene felt too perfect. This town felt too perfect.

Actually I found one imperfection. There was caution tape around the center of the square. Around a toppled over tree. There were people standing around it, mourning it.

Was that the tree I hit? Maybe it would be best if I didn’t investigate the scene of the accident.

Wait. The hospital is only 50 yards from the crash site? Why did I get into an ambulance then? I swear to God, if I get charged for that trip...

I crossed my arms and shivered.

“Where’s your coat?” “Mom” asked.

I shrugged. My coat is at home. If I had to guess, Laura’s coat is in her car, and it never followed me to the hospital. “In my car.”

She sighed. “I’m this way,” she pointed up the street. “We’ll walk fast.”

Just then a well-dressed older man stopped us. “Exactly what were you thinking when you crashed into the tree?” he said. 

I was startled and didn’t have an answer.

“Mr. Diggs,” Mom said, coming to my defense. “Seriously, my daughter just got out of the hospital. It’s not OK to berate her at a time like this.”

Mr. Diggs was dressed to impress in a tailored suit and top hat. A top hot? Is this guy for real?

“But the Christmas Festival is in two days, Claire!” Mr. Diggs said. “She destroyed the centerpiece of the town.”

So they’re on a first name basis? Mother or not, I’m not going to let this tool berate her. “I’m... sorry” I said.

Diggs turned to me, looking annoyed. “Sorry, doesn't fix this Ms. Williams.”

I didn’t appreciate the lecture. I’m a grown-ass man. “Geez dude, it’s only a tree,” I found myself staying.

Diggs, and any other Christmas shopping pedestrian in earshot stopped and looked at me like I had 3 heads. “You have until Friday evening, Christmas Eve to fix it.”

“Me?” I replied. “You want me to fix it?”

“Or I’ll press charges.” Diggs added.

I rolled my eyes.

Diggs left us, and Clair continued walking up the street, and I followed her. I got strange glances from passing strangers. At first I was conscious about walking down the street in women’s clothes, but that wasn't it. I could hear whispers of “Laura Williams.” These strangers knew me. Or rather they knew Laura Williams. They were judging me. They all must know I crashed into the Christmas tree. How small is this town?

“Umm, Claire.” I said. “Can I call you Claire?”

“No, you can call me Mom,” she replied, shaking her head.

Ugh. “Umm… Mom.” I said. “What day is it?”

“It’s Wednesday, honey.”

Well that’s good. It was Tuesday when I magically left my house. So it makes sense today is Wednesday. “And Christmas Eve is Friday?” I asked. “So I need to fix his precious tree in two days?”

“Are you getting your memory back?” she asked.

“No.” I shook my head.

“Here’s my car,” she said, stopping in front of a sedan. She unlocked it and went to the driver's seat, while I sat down in the passenger seat.

Well this is awkward. What should I do? What should I say? Where are we going? I really need to get home - to my real home.

* * *

On the way to wherever Claire.. err.. Mom was taking me, so I decided to play with Laura’s phone. First things first I need to get out of here. I couldn’t get the internet to work. I had enough bars. Why wasn’t I getting any websites to come up? 

I decided to break the silence. “Does Diggs really expect me to replace an entire 30 foot Christmas tree in two days?”

“It sounds like it.” she said.

“And how am I supposed to do that? Two days before Christmas?”

“You can start with your old friend. Doesn’t he have a tree farm?”

“I have an old friend that has a tree farm?” I asked in amazement. “How convenient.”

“Yeah.” she said. “John. You two dated junior year, remember.”

Of course I don’t remember. I’m not Laura. Maybe I need to remind Claire about it. “Amnesia, Mom.”

“Not sure why you two broke up.” Claire continued. “He was quite attractive.”

Great. Not only is the tree farmer a friend. He’s also an ex. I looked at Clair, who was looking straight ahead while driving. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about my Amnesia?” 

“Like Dr. Coleman said, these types of things always work themselves out.”

“Yeah, maybe in the movies...” 

I paused on that thought. Wait. Could it be? Nah. 

“I’m glad you decided to come home for Christmas.” she added. I wish you hadn’t crashed into that tree though.

Is she more concerned about the tree or me?

OK, the rest of the ride to Claire’s home I thought about my predicament. 

I was sitting at home watching cheesy Christmas movies. Then the power went out and I found myself in the exact same scene as the channel I was watching. 

Did I get sucked into the TV? If so, then where am I?

Meanwhile, this town seems to be too perfect. Everyone I met so far has been too perfect. My reflection, Laura. Claire. Dr. Coleman. The paramedic. The cops. Mr. Diggs. The perfect shoppers in the perfect town square gawking at the perfect tree I wrecked. But I wrecked it and I have 2 days to fix it. Fix it by Christmas. My ally in this is going to be Laura’s attractive ex-boyfriend who conveniently owns a tree farm...

No.  No no.  Not that.  Anything but that.

I got sucked into the TV.

I’m in one of those cheesy Christmas movies. 

Worse.  I’m the female lead in one.