by Krista Lakes
She checked out more customers and sold another five tickets to the auction. Nicholas only mentioned her speed once. Finally, around lunchtime, things started to slow down. There weren't any customers in line and if any did need her, Liam would let her know.
“Okay, let’s head to the back,” she said to Nicholas. “Your parents told me which box to get the lights from.”
“Did they already pay in advance?” Nicholas followed behind Molly, who was walking towards the back of the store. “Or do we accept payment upon delivery?”
Molly shook her head and turned on the lights to the storage area. She found the box marked with the Brownstone name up on a high shelf. She thought she could reach it if she stood on her tip toes, but it was too heavy to move with just her fingertips barely reaching it. She glared at the box, trying to remember where she last put the ladder.
That's when Nicholas reached over her, easily getting the box with his extra height. His body bumped into hers as he did so, and she blushed with the connection. He smiled as he handed the box to her and she set it on the ground.
“Thanks.” Molly smiled at Nicholas, feeling a small flutter in her chest. She quickly opened the box and began to look through it. “And no. The Brownstones don’t pay for their lights. They’re both retired. I think they make enough to live comfortably, but Christmas lights aren’t exactly a financial necessity.”
“So my parents are in the habit of giving away free product?” Nicholas sighed with exasperation as he leaned against one of the shelves.
“Your parents are in the habit of helping those who’ve helped them. The Brownstones were some of their first customers. They came in and bought things when no one else did, and then they went and told their friends to give the place a chance,” Molly explained. “They placed some big orders that really helped your parents out that first year. Since your parents were new to town, people weren’t too interested in shopping here. You know how it goes. Small town. Big suspicion.”
“Yeah, the small-town demographic is a loyal one.” Nicholas glanced around the backroom. “And that loyalty is definitely worth something...”
Molly dug around in the box, pulling out boxes of lights and arranging them on the floor. She looked up to see Nicholas staring absent-mindedly at a box of dried mistletoe.
“Hey.” Molly snapped her fingers a few times, getting Nicholas’ attention again. “What do you think about these colors for lights? Should we do white and green? Or should we just use all three? Red, white and green? Is that too much?”
“You, Ms. Head Elf, believe in the concept of too much?” Nicholas gave her a pretend look of shock.
“You’re right. We should just use all three.” Molly stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed the boxes of lights for the Brownstones. Her arms were full as she searched for an empty box to put them in for delivery.
“Wait a second, 'we'?” Nicholas's eyes narrowed slightly.
Molly grinned at him. “You want to see the business. This is part of it.”
He sighed again.“We’ll see what the house looks like first,” he told her, pulling out an empty box from behind the dried mistletoe. He held it out for her to put the lights in. “Then, we can choose the right colors.” Nicholas turned back towards the doorway. “Did you want me to put these in your car?”
“No. We can walk over,” Molly replied. “It's not snowing today, so it'll be nice.”
“Walk over? But why can’t we drive—”
“The man who wants to limit everyone’s candy canes during Christmas is afraid of a little exercise?” Molly asked, shooting him a grin. She set the box down so she could put on her coat. “Besides, it’ll be fun.”
How to get kids to like math: Make it seem fun
“Fun? Walking down the street in this freezing weather? Yeah, that sounds fun.” Nicholas picked up the box before she could. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. As long as we’re back within an hour. We’ll need to be open again by 1PM.”
“You got it, boss.” Molly smiled to herself, continuing to come up with a plan.
Chapter 9
Nicholas
“It’s so nice to see you again, Mr. Brownstone,” Molly said, embracing a thin older man. “We’ve missed you at Christmas Wishes this year.”
“Ah, you know how it is. The older you get, the less you can stand the cold.” Mr. Brownstone imitated a shiver once he pulled away from Molly’s embrace. “Your parents had the right idea, Molly. Miami might be calling me and the missus’ name pretty soon, too.”
Nicholas took a quick look around the home as Molly continued to make small talk with Mr. Brownstone. They were standing in the living room, and there was a large Christmas tree leaning against a far corner. The tree was decorated with tinsel and what looked to be family photographs, every picture within a snowflake-shaped frame.
Nicholas could smell something sweet coming from the kitchen, and he unconsciously brought a hand to his stomach. It grumbled.
It was lunchtime after all.
Mrs. Brownstone soon appeared with a tray of Bundt cake slices, each one decorated with vanilla-white icing and edible glitter. “You’re just in time, Molly. These are straight out of the oven.”
Molly bounced over to Mrs. Brownstone’s tray, taking a slice of Bundt cake into her hand. “Thank you! This looks amazing!”
“You’re so very welcome,” Mrs. Brownstone said, pride in her voice. “They may not be quite as good as Hannah Johnson’s, but I think there’s something special about homemade Bundt cake.”
Mrs. Brownstone then turned towards Nicholas, offering the tray up to him as well.
Nicholas’ initial response was to say no, thank you.
But his growing hunger got the better of him, and before he even knew it, he was holding a slice of Bundt cake in his hand.
He carefully bit into the slice, and struggled to suppress a moan of delight.
The Bundt cake was delicious.
But he couldn’t let Molly know just how much he’d enjoyed the cake. She’d never let him live it down, not after he’d complained about Christmas sweets. “Thank you, Mrs. Brownstone. The cake is... good.”
“Good? You’re calling cake good?” Molly repeated with a laugh. “Well, well, well. Nicholas Kerstman has a sweet tooth, after all. Or at least the start of one.”
“Nicholas Kerstman?” Mrs. Brownstone set her tray of Bundt cake down on a nearby table. “Oh my goodness. We thought you were some kind of legend. We knew your parents went to visit you for New Year’s, but we’ve never seen you in town.”
“How are you liking it so far, young man?” Mr. Brownstone asked. He walked slowly over to the Bundt cake tray, taking a slice for himself. “I’m sure Molly’s been an excellent tour guide.”
“It’s... the town is...” Nicholas stuttered and stammered, trying to come up with the right words to say.
He didn’t hate it here.
But he didn’t like it, either.
“Well, it’s not New York,” Molly answered the question for him, gently nudging him in his side. “I think it’ll take some time for Nicholas to get used to us.”
He tried not to react to her being so close. He could smell her shampoo and it made it hard to concentrate, which wasn't like him.
“Careful now, Nicholas. Once people get used to us, they tend to want to stay,” Mr. Brownstone said with a chuckle. “We’re a very likable bunch.”
Mrs. Brownstone scoffed at her husband’s words, before nodding towards Molly. “What colors did we get this year? Howard always picks such nice colors.”
“Give me just one sec...” Molly finished up her cake slice and she turned to the box of lights. She began to pull the strings out and lay them on the living room table, making sure they were properly extended against the hardwood. “We have red, green and white. Is that going to clash too badly with the outside? I didn't think about the paint color of the house when I picked them out.”
“That sounds perfect, Molly,” Mr. Brownstone
assured her. His voice was wheezy and he cleared it with a cough. He slowly ran his fingers along the wires. “Would you be able to help us put them up this year? Maybe when you get off work later?”
“It wouldn't take you very long, especially with this young man’s help,” Mrs. Brownstone said, nodding toward Nicholas. “I know how you Kerstmans feel about Christmas. You must be dying to put up some lights somewhere.”
Nicholas cringed at Mrs. Brownstone’s assumption. He opened his mouth to refute her, but once again, Molly took it upon herself to respond for his sake. “He’ll help! Of course he will. We’ll be back later tonight.”
“Of course I will?” Nicholas frowned as he glared down at Molly.
“Of course you will.” Molly’s reply was steadfast, like Nicholas couldn’t make her change her mind even if he tried. He had a feeling she could be stubborn.
“Oh, how wonderful!” Mrs. Brownstone turned back towards Molly, a smile now filling her round face. “We’ll see you two later tonight.”
“We'll be here,” Molly replied with a smile. “But now it's time for us to get back to work. Thank you for the cake.”
“Right. Thank you. See you later,” Nicholas mumbled, attempting to suppress his displeasure as he followed behind Molly back outside.
What had she gotten him into?
* * *
“What do you usually get for lunch? When you’re in New York?” Molly asked as she and Nicholas walked side by side down the pavement back to the store. “I'm afraid we don't have any sushi bars or steak places around here.”
“I’m actually more of a salad man,” Nicholas told her with a shrug. He brushed a bit of fallen snow off his winter coat. “It’s easy to make, plus it's healthy. I don't have to think about it.”
“So you’re saying that salad is very efficient,” Molly said, using the same intonation as he usually did. She laughed when he rolled his eyes at her, and Nicholas could feel his heart skip a solid beat at the sound.
He chose to ignore that reaction. “And what about you, Ms. Molly? Don’t tell me you just eat candy canes for breakfast, lunch and dinner?”
“I’m actually a very responsible eater. I just know how to relax around the holidays,” Molly replied with a grin. “Have you ever tried it? Have you ever tried relaxing?”
“You don’t get too far in my world by relaxing, Ms. Molly,” Nicholas said, shaking his head. “Hard work gets rewarded. Late nights get you promotions. And maybe, when you’ve done enough of both, you can finally open your own office in the heart of Manhattan and run things your way with a small team of people you trust.”
“I’m guessing that’s your story, right?” Molly asked, glancing up at him. “You did things the right way and now you’re living the dream?”
“The dream...” Nicholas pondered Molly’s phrase as he came to a standstill on the snowy sidewalk. “I guess I’ve never really thought too much about it. I’m not big on dreaming, Ms. Molly. I like having goals and reaching those goals. Dreams are unrealistic.”
“I always tell my kids that they should have dreams, even if they seem totally impossible,” Molly said, reaching over and touching his arm. Her touch was a wonderful jolt of electricity through him. “Dreams are one of the most important things in the world. They can keep us going, even when we feel like we’re all out of steam.”
“You have kids?” Nicholas’ question came out anxiously. He was still unsure of Molly’s relationship status, and in that moment, he regretted the previous skipping of his heartbeat.
“No. Not yet. I’m talking about the kids at my school. I teach second grade in town,” Molly explained. She smiled at him again and his heart decided to do the beat-skipping thing again.
“What made you want to teach?” he asked, forcing his feet to move so they could keep walking.
“When I was in college, I would sometimes volunteer to tutor kids between my classes and...I don’t know. There was just something about working with them. It made me so happy.” She smiled at the memory, her eyes bright and distant. “Seeing their faces light up when they finally figured something out. I felt like it was something I was good at. It made me happy.”
“I’m glad you found something that makes you so happy.” Nicholas gave Molly a genuine smile. “Hopefully, I’ll get that part figured out, someday—”
Nicholas’ was interrupted by a snowball hitting him right in the face.
“Nicholas!” Molly yelled, as she brought her hands to Nicholas’ face to clear the snow from his skin. Her fingers were warm against the cold. “What was that?”
Another snowball splatted on Molly's chest.
Molly and Nicholas both turned to face the source of the snowballs.
It was Liam, standing a few feet away from them with an evil grin on his face. “Sorry, Mr. Kerstman. I was aiming for Ms. Carmichael.”
“And why would you be aiming for Ms. Molly?” Nicholas wiped at his snow-covered face with his leather gloves.
“Because he’s a sore loser,” Molly replied. She leaned over and began to gather snow into her hands. “I told you last year, kiddo- you can’t beat the champ!”
“Watch me!” Liam lifted his arms in premature victory once before running down the sidewalk.
“We have to get him,” Molly announced, putting a snowball into Nicholas’ hand. “Cover me!”
Nicholas stared down at the snowball and frowned. “Wait, what’s happening right now?”
“Nicholas! There’s no time! Make more snowballs and cover me!” Molly reached down for more snow, expertly shaping it into a snowball. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold!”
He stared at her for a moment before following her down the street to the center of town, snowball in hand. They both ducked low against a retaining wall near to the big Christmas tree.
Nicholas glanced around the well-populated town square. Not one soul seemed to find it strange that the trio were engaged in such a peculiar “battle.” Apparently, snowball fights weren't strange occurrences around here. Once again, he thought this had to be the strangest town.
“He’s climbing the old Pipkin building!” Molly said, pointing to an old brick building to their left. He could just see Liam climbing up a sturdy fire escape towards the top of the building.
“I’m not climbing that thing.” Nicholas shook his head as a no before Molly could even ask. “Looks like it’s time for us to admit defeat?”
“Hard work gets rewarded,” Molly said, lowering her voice to match Nicholas’ masculine tone. “Isn’t that what you just said?”
He gave her an annoyed look. “Yes, but I mean hard work in the real world, not—” Nicholas found his sentence once again cut short by a snowball straight to his face. “Oh, come on!”
“I’m not sure there’s anything more real than a snowball hitting you in the face,” Molly informed him. She pulled him along behind her as the looked for a better position. They were now crouching behind a perforated bench that was seated directly across from the Pipkin building.
“Okay, business guy, what’s your plan here?” Molly kept her voice low as she whispered to Nicholas. “We’ve got a kid on the roof. He has the high ground, but we're smarter than he is. How do we win this thing?”
“Uhh...” Nicholas stalled for time, his brain earnestly trying to come up with a plan for winning a snowball fight. He wanted to laugh at the situation, but he kept a straight face. “Well, the roof is closer to the sun, right? So, our biggest advantage is that we have more snow. I’m guessing, even in this weather, snow doesn’t last so long so high up...”
Molly nodded along, but then shook her head. “Are you saying we should just wait him out?”
“I’m saying we should make him use up his snow. He'll run out pretty quick,” Nicholas explained. He grinned at her as he came up with a plan. “Come on. I’ll be your human shield.”
“You’d really protect me like that?” Molly's cheeks pinked slightly.
“Ms. Molly, I’d take a million sno
wballs to the face if it meant that you’d remain undefeated,” he replied. Nicholas adjusted the lapels on his coat. “You can’t beat the champ.”
Molly laughed, and Nicholas’ heart skipped a beat once more.
He really had to do something about that.
Molly's eyes met his and he felt a warmth run through him as she grinned at him. With a deep breath, he stood up, both of his arms outstretched and blocking Molly from any snowballs coming from the Pipkin building.
“Liam!” Nicholas called out. “We know you’ll be out of snow soon! Here’s your chance to get Ms. Carmichael before our lunch break is over! Do you think you have a shot?”
“Hey, no fair! You’re standing in the way!” Liam whined with displeasure. “How am I supposed to get her?”
“All’s fair in love and snowball fights!” Nicholas yelled back, waving his arms. “Do your worst!”
“Yeah, do your worst!” Molly repeated from behind him. There was a soft whump sound and Molly shouted in surprise. “Nicholas! It’s a trap!”
“What—” Nicholas found his own sentence blurred as multiple snowballs all came for him at once. Wiping at the snow on his face, Nicholas could now see that there was another child standing on an adjacent rooftop, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Two more popped up beside that one and snowballs came from all directions.
Molly was being pelted by snowballs, but instead of anger, she roared with laughter while leaning into Nicholas’ side.
They tried to run, but there was no where to hide that was safe. After the fourth or fifth snowball to the chest, Nicholas began to laugh with Molly. The kids had beaten the adults. No contest.
“We surrender,” Molly yelled, waving an empty hand over the park bench. A chorus of cheers went up from their enemy.
Nicholas helped her stand, brushing snow from her jacket. She went up on her toes and brushed snow out of his hair with a grin. The way her body leaned into his made him heat up. He was surprised he didn't melt the snow still clinging to him instantly.
