NickAndNoelle_wrp438
Book Jacket
Nick And Noelle
Nick And Noelle
Nick And Noelle
Nick leaned forward, resting a hand on the counter on either side of her. “Did it ever occur to you,” he growled, his face inches from hers, “that we’d have no problem getting along if you weren’t so stubborn.”
Noelle folded her arms across her chest. “Did it ever occur to you that you might be the stubborn one?”
“I'm trying to be nice.”
“Well try harder.”
He refused to back up and knew she couldn't as the counter was behind her. “Have lunch with me.”
“What?”
“That's what I came in to talk to you about. I wanted to take you to lunch to talk about decorating the church for Christmas.”
“Lunch?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Wherever you like.”
Noelle placed her hands on his chest and pushed. He didn't move.
"What's your answer?”
“I didn't know I was being given a choice.”
“You are. What's your answer?”
“Really, Ni—”
“And if 'really Nick' comes out of your mouth one more time today I'll...” He stared at her mouth. She was close enough to silence with a kiss. He was suddenly aware of her palms, still flattened across his chest. For several heartbeats he stood there, incredibly attuned to her nearness, her warmth, the smell of her shampoo.
Had he lost his mind? Abruptly, he backed away.
Nick and Noelle
by
Kara Lynn Russell
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Nick and Noelle
COPYRIGHT Ó 2007 by Kara Lynn Russell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Kim Mendoza
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 706
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First White Rose Edition, 2007
ISBN 1-60154-157-0
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
For Paul Petersen, my dear father-in-law, who believed Christmas should be lived every day.
Prologue
Excitement fizzled like soda pop bubbles in Noelle Granton’s ten year old stomach. It was the Sunday before Christmas and she was finally playing Mary in the Sunday School Christmas Program. She’d waited for this role since she was in kindergarten, and she was finally going to get to sit next to the wooden manger and hold the baby Jesus doll in front of the whole congregation. Noelle knew this was the most important day of her life.
All the Sunday School children were lined up in the hallway outside the sanctuary waiting to go in and re-create the Nativity for the congregation. Noelle closed her eyes and listened. She could just make out that the lector was reading Isaiah, one of the prophecies about Jesus. They would be going on soon.
Suddenly someone shoved her from behind. She caught her balance and then turned around to glare at a pair of shepherds who were roughhousing. One of the teachers stepped in and scolded them.
Boys were hopeless.
“Are you ready, Noelle?”
Especially this boy. She turned to the boy who had spoken, Nick Jensen. “Of course I’m ready. Are you?”
“I have the whole Christmas story from Luke memorized,” he informed her.
“Big deal. We don’t have to say anything. Besides, I’ve had it memorized for years.” She added that last bit just because she didn’t want him to think he was smarter than she was. Otherwise, she’d never brag like that; it was kind of rude.
Nick Jensen was a constant thorn in her side. They were rivals at school and at church. Even though they weren’t supposed to be competitive, Nick and Noelle always raced to see who would be first to complete memorization assignments.
She didn’t mind being beaten, but Nick was usually the only one who could routinely beat her at everything. She could have lived with that, but there was one thing about Nick that she couldn’t forgive —his birthday.
His birthday was on Christmas, just like hers. She loved knowing she and Jesus were born on the same day. It made Christmas her favorite holiday. But while she loved sharing her birthday with Jesus, she definitely did not like sharing it with Nick.
They had been born on the exact same day. That meant people were always comparing them. They both got good grades and behaved well at school. They were both part of the same church family. They both had Christmas names—hers being the French word for Christmas and he being named after St. Nicholas.
But in spite of all these similarities, there was a huge gulf between them. Noelle was the daughter of wealthy parents and Nick had only his uncle. People naturally felt sorry for Nick and went out of their way to praise him even for little things. They marveled at his intelligence, his nice manners, and his excellent behavior.
She felt like everyone just expected these things from her; that her hard work didn’t mean as much as Nick’s because she had a family and money, and he didn’t.
And these comparisons were the worst at Christmas, because everyone looked at her gifts and Nick’s gifts. His Uncle Larry couldn’t afford anything remotely like what her parents could, and she felt like everyone thought she was spoiled and snobbish.
To make things worse, her parents and Nick’s parents had been friends. Now that his parents were dead, her parents felt the need to watch over him.
And while, even at her age, she knew Nick had no control over his birthday, his family or what other people said, she still couldn’t stand him.
Now, this year, when she’d finally been awarded the coveted role of Mary, he was playing Joseph. Ugh!
The Sunday School teacher leaned over and whispered, “Time to go on. Remember to walk in slowly.”
She reached up and straightened the scarf that covered her hair. Then she and Nick began their walk up the long church aisle to where a manger with a doll baby waited. The scarf wouldn’t stay straight on her head, and she became distracted with fixing it.
Halfway up the aisle, Nick stepped on the hem of her gown. She tripped and went down hard. Her hands were holding her scarf, so she failed to catch herself with them. She slammed face first onto the floor.
That’s how, instead of sitting at the front of the church, holding the baby Jesus doll, Noelle ended up in the emergency room with a broken nose. And that’s why she looked like a raccoon in all her Christmas and birthday pictures that year. She really hated Nick Jensen.
Even Jesus would understand after this, wouldn’t he?
Nick And Noelle
Chapter One
Noelle ran a finger over the bridge of her nose as she remembered that Christmas. She could still feel the slight bump where it had broken. Here it was, more than fifteen years later, and Nick was still getting her into trouble.
Pastor Thorn cleared his throat, bringing Noelle’s attention back to the matter at hand. She glanced over at Nick sitting next to her, and then back at Pastor Thorn, seated behind his desk. The desk was piled high with papers and books. He’d cleared the middle of the desk or she and Nick wouldn’t have been able to se
e him at all.
“I understand,” said the pastor “that you two have a history of…rivalry.”
Noelle winced. That was putting it mildly.
“Now, competition is a fine thing in its place, but…”
“But we took it too far,” Noelle admitted. “I’m truly sorry.”
“It was my fault, really,” said Nick. “This was Noelle’s first Saint’s Parade. I know how things should go…”
“If I’d just thought it out a bit more…” Noelle interrupted.
Nick leaned forward in his chair. “But the kids know me. I could have stopped them.”
“Really Nick, anyone could see…”
“Do you two hear yourselves?” Pastor Thorn rubbed his forehead, as if to forestall a headache. “You’re competing over who gets the blame for the whole fiasco.”
Noelle put a hand to her mouth before any more foolish words could tumble out. Pastor Thorn was right. They were acting like children.
“The fellowship hall is a disaster. The drapes will have to be replaced…”
She zoned out while Pastor Thorn ran down the list of damages—fire damages, water damage, broken ceiling tiles, pest control services, and so on. She knew it all by heart and she deeply regretted inciting her small group of teens to try to outdo the other groups.
The Parade of Saints was held every year around All Saints Day as an alternative to a Halloween Party. Part of the festivities included skits performed by the church’s youth group for the younger children that depicted the lives of some of the legendary saints. Noelle’s group had Joan of Arc. Nick’s had St. Patrick. Some of the kids decided it would be a good thing to go for realism—as in real fire and real snakes.
“Pastor, we are well aware of what happened and I…” Nick paused, glancing at Noelle. “I mean, we accept full blame. We’ll take care of the damages.”
“Yes, Pastor. If you have an estimate I’ll write out a check for you right now.” Noelle reached for her purse.
Nick grabbed her hand. “I can pay for my half.”
“I never said you couldn’t, but you know I can afford all of it.”
“The whole town knows what you can afford. That’s not the point. It’s a matter of responsibility.”
“Fine then. I’ll write out a check for my half.” She shook off his hand and picked up her purse from beside her chair. Why did he have to be so pigheaded?
“That’s enough,” roared Pastor Thorn, rising from his chair. “Haven’t the two of you ever gotten along?”
Nick and Noelle looked at each other. Noelle was certain—she saw it in his eyes—they were thinking the same thing. She bit her lip and dropped her gaze.
“So how much should I make that check out for?” she mumbled.
“This is not about money,” said Pastor Thorn, sinking back into his seat.
“You don’t mean you want us to do the repairs ourselves, do you?” Talk about penance!
“What’s the matter,” taunted Nick. “Afraid you’ll ruin your manicure?”
Noelle shot him a furious look but managed to hold her tongue.
“What I want,” the pastor stated slowly and precisely, as if they didn’t speak English all that well, “Is for you two to learn how to get along. Separately you both have much to offer the church. Together—you’re a disaster waiting to happen.”
“All right. So we won’t work together in the future. That should take care of it,” grumbled Nick, slouching down in his chair.
“Nick, Noelle, you need to work this out.”
“How do you propose we do that?” asked Noelle.
“I’ll be happy to tell you,” said Pastor Thorn. But he didn’t look happy at all. “I think I’ve found the perfect task for the two of you.”
Nick and Noelle groaned in unison. Pastor Thorn continued. “I want the two of you to decorate the church for Christmas…together. Plan it, get the decorations, and put everything up. Just the two of you.”
Noelle bit back another groan. She rather do all the repairs to the fellowship hall by herself.
“What if we decline,” asked Nick.
“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to ask both of you to resign as youth group advisors.”
Noelle gulped and exchanged looks with Nick. He didn’t look happy. No matter what Pastor Thorn said, she knew the whole thing was her fault and that the youth group meant the world to Nick.
“If you two will excuse me, I have a lunch appointment. Please feel free to use my office to start planning your project.” The Pastor rose, shaking his head and gathering a few papers.
Then he left, closing the door behind him. Noelle kept her gaze on her hands, which were clenched in her lap. She didn’t want to look at Nick and see his anger directed towards her.
It wasn’t fair. After years away, she’d returned home to find that Nick was still the best looking man she’d ever known. He still had that tall, lean body and velvet brown eyes. Looking into them was like drowning in chocolate. But he was oblivious to her as a woman, and so their childhood rivalry continued. Couldn’t the guy have developed a pot belly or a receding hairline? Noelle silently added this deficiency to her list of reasons to dislike Nick. Still she had to try to do the right thing here. Even if it benefited Nick.
“I’ll resign, Nick. You’ve been working with the youth for years.”
This evidently didn’t please him. If anything his scowl deepened. “That won’t cut it, Noelle. We have to do this project or we’re both out.”
Noelle thought for about the hundredth time since she’d moved back home, that maybe she’d made a mistake. She just didn’t seem to be fitting in anywhere. Still, she had to try, for her mother’s sake.
“Maybe I could just join another church,” she mumbled to herself.
“That would kill your mother,” protested Nick. Nick had grown close to Gladys over the years while she was away, building her career in retail.
Sharing her mom with him was another sore spot for Noelle.
“I was kidding.” Sort of.
A silence fell between them. Finally Nick spoke. “Are we really that bad, Noelle? Do you dislike me so much that you couldn’t stand to work on this one thing with me?”
“I don’t dislike you Nick. But you have to admit we seem to bring out the worst in each other.”
“That was one thing when we were kids, but we’re adults now. We should be able to get along.”
“Well, yes…” But it was so much easier not to when it came to Nick.
He turned toward Noelle. “I think we should do this.”
She considered, trying to estimate how much more damage they could do to the church if things went wrong.
“We can get along,” Nick sat up in his chair again, enthusiasm building on his face. “In fact…”
“In fact what?”
“I challenge you.”
Noelle covered her face with her hands and slumped down in her chair. A challenge. He was already making it into a competition. “Challenge me to what?”
He grinned at her, a vast improvement over the scowl he’d been wearing. “To get along with me, of course.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You don’t think you can do it, do you?” he teased.
She might as well be back in grade school. Noelle had to resist the urge to stick her tongue out at Nick. “I can so.”
“Prove it.”
She gave in. “All righMt. We’ll decorate the church together.” It was too bad she’d never learned to resist a challenge from Nick.
This would not end well, she was sure.
****
Later that day, Noelle pulled into the driveway of her childhood home, a stately colonial. It was a nice house in a nice neighborhood, but not an elaborate one that boasted wealth. Noelle’s father loathed the lifestyle of the rich and glamorous—the lifestyle his parents had led. He’d happily put it behind him when he married her mom. Noelle was glad of that fact.
Her father had pass
ed away several years ago. Then last spring her mother had suffered a heart attack. As the only unattached member of the family, Noelle decided she needed to take care of her mom, so she quit her job as a buyer for a home decorating store in Minneapolis, gotten out of her lease, and moved back to her childhood home.
Not that her mom needed taking care of on a permanent basis. Not yet, anyway. But Noelle had to acknowledge that a day would come when her mother would need her. She intended to be there for that. At first, taking care of Mom had eaten up a lot of her time. But as her mother’s health improved Noelle found more time to work on her pet project. She wanted to open her own store.
She gathered her purse and a couple of bags of groceries she’d picked up then went inside. Her mother, Gladys, was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea.
“You’re home,” she said as Noelle walked in.
Noelle set the groceries on the counter and stooped to kiss her mother’s cheek. “Yes, I’m home.” She moved back to the counter and began unpacking bags. “How was your day?”
“It was good. I went out to lunch with Sara Craig. Do you remember her?”
Sara Craig had been Noelle’s piano teacher. How could her Mom ever think she’d forget all those scales? “Of course I remember her. Where did you go?”
“Oh, just downtown to the café. Then we decided to do a little window shopping.”
“Window shopping? I hope you were dressed warmly.”
“Don’t worry, we didn’t go far. Sara wanted to see how your shop is coming along.”
Noelle was preparing to open Joyeux Noel, a store specializing in Christmas items. “Well it’s coming along, but it’s not ready for window shopping yet.”
“We pressed our faces up against the glass anyway.”
“Did you see anything interesting?” teased Noelle.
“Nope. Just a bunch of boxes and some shelves lying in pieces.”
Nick and Noelle Page 1
