My Granny leaves me two things when she passes away: her dilapidated old inn and a letter encouraging me to have a Hallmark-worthy Christmas here in Woodfield. But I’ve seen enough Hallmark movies to know this isn’t one. Because the inns in Hallmark movies? They don’t have squatters. The heroines of Hallmark movies? They never burn their gingerbread cookies. And even though all Hallmark films are about the joy of family, I’d rather stick my head in a snowbank than reconcile with my parents. Nope; Granny’s last requests are going to have to go unfulfilled. And the town Santa Claus, who's way younger and way more attractive than any Santa should be? He's going to have to stop his flirting. Otherwise, I'll never want to leave this place.