We'll Always Have Christmas: A gorgeously uplifting Christmas romance

by Jenny Hale

  “Yeah. I’d rather not take the man who made her feel like that to see her. She was trying to be the perfect wife because she felt some need to do better than this woman who had his heart. I’ll just go myself,” he said, the tension in his face making him look tired.

  Noelle felt the air leaking from her lungs at this revelation, and she realized that she really didn’t know the whole story from every perspective, but she wondered if any of them did. “I shouldn’t get involved,” she said honestly, feeling terrible for making a snap judgment about Alex’s feelings. He wasn’t just being awful to William; he had a real reason to be upset. Here Alex was telling Noelle that his love for his grandmother and his need to protect her fragile feelings was the reason he wouldn’t go with William to see her. That was a very sweet and caring gesture, and it made her want to put her arms around him, but she knew better.

  The tension in his shoulders dissipated. “We don’t have to get into all this today,” he said. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, not knowing what else she could offer.

  He nodded and then went back to his work, his disappointment clear. Without another word, she walked out of his office.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I got my plane ticket!” Phoebe nearly shrieked through the phone. “OhmyGod, ohmyGod, ohmyGod… I’m actually going on the audition. I’m doing this.”

  “You did?” Noelle flopped down on the sofa in her suite and lay back, the phone at her ear. She’d finished work for the day, not seeing Alex again, and was glad to hear a friendly voice. “Phoebe, you’ve got this. It’s in the bag. Act your you-know-what off when you get there. This is it. This is what you’ve been waiting for your whole life.”

  “I know.” Her excitement trailed off. The line went quiet and Noelle checked her screen to make sure they were still connected. Finally, Phoebe said, “I told Paul.”

  Noelle chewed on the inside of her lip. She knew how difficult this was for Phoebe. Her friend rarely opened up to anyone and she’d let Paul in. She’d told him all her secrets, how alone she’d been growing up and how depression had consumed her mother, leaving her alone to raise herself most of the time. Phoebe didn’t let those demons out to anyone. She channeled them into her acting instead, and, if she let herself, she could convince the hardest cynic with her tears.

  Noelle had seen her do it during a stage play once. Her character was supposed to have lost a grandparent. Phoebe sat in the middle of that stage, her legs crumpled under her gauzy white dress, a single beam of light on her. Her lips quivered and then her eyes filled with tears. In complete silence—the auditorium frozen with emotion—the tears slid down her cheeks until she put her face in her hands and sobbed.

  Noelle always wondered if she’d been thinking about her mother. Phoebe would tell her that when her mother wasn’t depressed, she was amazing. She had a sense of humor that could send Phoebe doubling over into fits of laughter. She was caring and gentle, and Phoebe adored her. But when the depression overtook her, her mother slipped into her own darkness, refusing to see her daughter, pulling the curtains closed and staying in bed all day. If Phoebe tried to get her up, she’d yell at her, tell her to get out. For a child it was very confusing, but when Phoebe was old enough to understand the disease, she came to terms with it as best she could.

  “What did he say?”

  “He’s worried. He said that I’m so talented that there’s no way I wouldn’t get it, and wishing for anything else would be a crime.”

  “That’s sweet.” Noelle rolled onto her side. “What will he do if you get it?”

  “I think he wants to try to convince me to come back after I’ve shot all the episodes, but it’s a TV show. It could have multiple seasons if I’m lucky. And it could be the start of something. I don’t think I’d want to leave Los Angeles. I need to see where my life is heading, you know?”

  She nodded even though Phoebe couldn’t see her. She knew all too well. Alex wasn’t budging on the bakery, and she knew that taking care of William wasn’t what would fulfill her forever. There was nothing left for her here. The significance of this moment hit Noelle like a thunderbolt. Fate was stepping in and giving her a nudge. Just like Phoebe, if the opportunity arose for her to leave and find something else, she felt as though she should go because why would she stay? The idea of this turned over in her mind and she thought about her childhood pact with Phoebe.

  “If you get the part, I might really move there with you,” she said. “Just like I promised.” Saying it terrified her and ripped a hole in her heart with the loss of the bakery, but she was out of options. Maybe she needed a fresh start.

  “Oh, it would be amazing!” Phoebe’s voice broke with excitement. “I wouldn’t have wanted to ask you really, but I don’t know if I could make it alone. Having you and Lucas there would mean the world to me.”

  “I know. And I’d really enjoy watching your dreams come true.”

  “I love you like you’re my sister, you know that?”

  She smiled. “Yeah. I do.”

  Right as Noelle was heading to her parents’ house to pick up Lucas, Heidi had called her for an emergency family meeting. Noelle was mentally tired already. She kept trying to figure out a way to make everything better, but she just couldn’t. She was struggling.

  She parked the car and braced herself for this meeting. She had to be strong for her mother and her father—they were going through a lot, and she needed to be there for them.

  She went inside and said hello to Muffy, who followed her past the glowing fireplace, and into the kitchen, her tail wagging furiously. Her mother, father, and sister were all sitting at the table, but to her surprise, Pop-pop was there too.

  “Where’s Lucas?” she asked.

  “Kelsey from next door has come over to play with him while we talk,” her mother said. “He’s upstairs. Have a seat.” She pushed a plate of cookies toward Noelle but she ignored them, her curiosity getting the better of her.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, unbuttoning her coat. By the looks on their faces and the dramatic way they’d assembled, she feared the worst: Were her parents struggling so badly that something awful had happened? Surely, they weren’t splitting up…

  Heidi was the first to speak. “I told Mom and Dad about you and Alex.”

  “What about us,” she said slowly, replaying everything she’d told them at dinner the other night. “There’s nothing to tell.”

  Her mother leaned forward with the same look she had when Noelle had hidden the phone under her bed as a girl so she could call Jo instead of sleeping and she’d denied having it. “Last time I checked, my daughter was relatively selective about who she made out with.”

  Noelle knew her face must be scarlet by the fire that she felt in her cheeks. “I did not make out with Alex Harrington. What did Heidi tell you?” She’d had a few drinks when she’d finally told them, but jeez, she knew she couldn’t possibly have described their kiss in such a way as to make her mother believe that she’d had some raunchy make-out session. She knew she hadn’t embellished the story at all.

  “I didn’t tell her you made out,” Heidi said. “But I did tell her about the light in your eyes when you talked about him.”

  “I had to tell your father,” her mother said.

  Noelle didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. She felt like she’d betrayed everyone, and she didn’t know what to do. “I’m sorry,” she finally said, her eyes on the table.

  “I told him,” her mother said, “because I couldn’t let the business get in the way of your happiness.”

  Noelle raised her head, confused. Then she looked over at her father to gauge his reaction. She remembered his face when she’d mentioned getting the job. Now he looked bewildered. She had known he wouldn’t be happy about it.

  Her father took a wobbly hold of his water glass before piping up. “I have something I need to confess to you,” he said. All of a sudden, that panicky look took on a diff
erent perspective. He looked scared, not angry.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “The raised rent wasn’t the reason the bakery is closing—Alex did raise it slightly, but no more than anyone else would with inflation. He was fair. The bakery has been losing money for quite a while now. I made a few poor business decisions… I bought all new equipment in the kitchen and reduced the bakery items to try to cut costs to pay for it. I tried to go into the catering market—weddings and such—but without your gram, I wasn’t getting the orders.”

  Her mind spun.

  “I blamed Alex because it was easier not to feel the guilt myself. I blamed his hike in rent, but if I would have made the right choices, the rent wouldn’t have been a problem. This was all my fault,” her father said, looking toward Pop-pop, worry streaking his face. “I tried to help when Pop-pop told me he was floundering. I gave him the suggestions and I got it all wrong. I don’t know how to run the bakery either and without your gram, we’re sort of lost. I kept fighting the closure, so angry with myself for screwing it up. Pop-pop still needs the income, and now I’ve ruined it for him.”

  “You were just trying to help, son,” Pop-pop said.

  So this wasn’t Alex’s fault? He wasn’t kicking them out at all; he’d just found another tenant when they couldn’t afford to stay. This news rocked Noelle to the core, and what he’d said about the bakery began to filter through her mind, as she now saw it in a totally different light. Why hadn’t Alex just told her all this when she’d spoken to him about it?

  Noelle promised her family that she’d do her very best to see if she could change Alex’s mind to give them more time, and she asked for complete control of the bakery. They all agreed. Ideas were swimming around in her head faster than she could process them, but Noelle warned everyone that she had to get Alex to allow them to stay first.

  After she’d spent the evening with Lucas doing puzzles and reading his new books, they talked about his day at school, and then he finally drifted off. Noelle had one last check on him to be sure he was asleep, and then she walked down to Alex’s suite and knocked on the door.

  As he stood in the doorway, sock feet, jeans, and a sweater, she had to swallow to keep her emotions at bay. Part of her wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him she was so sorry for blaming him, but the more rational side of her was cautious, confused, wondering why he hadn’t told her the truth.

  He opened the door wider to allow her to enter. Alex’s suite was more masculine than hers, with brown leather furniture and a widescreen television, a modern element that looked a little out of place in the historic setting. The décor was sleek and unfussy, a lot like he was. “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  “I hope so.” She took a seat on the soft leather sofa and he sank down next her. “I want to talk to you about the bakery.” She curled her legs underneath her, but she was jittery, too eager to sit still, so she straightened them back out. She twisted slightly toward him and tried to keep her knees from bouncing.

  Noelle explained what her family had told her as quickly as she could because she wanted to get to the question she was about to ask. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she said.

  He deliberated before speaking but then with an inhale, his chest filling up with air, he said, “When you first came through the doors of this house, I knew exactly who you were. I’d seen you at Hope and Sugar Bakery with your father. I’d come to look at the state of the property and I was sitting in my car across the street. You were there with your dad and your grandfather, carrying in boxes. Your dad bent down to help you and the two of you laughed at something—it was clear to me how close you all were just by watching you. I’ve never known that kind of closeness except with my grandmother. I wanted to protect that relationship and I knew that in the end, you could be angry with me more easily than you could be with them. I wanted to take the brunt of it for them.”

  “But you can’t go around lying to me to protect me! That isn’t how I do things. I want you to be honest, and I’m not sure how honest you’re used to being.” After all, he didn’t tell her, and no matter the reasoning, it made him seem like he could never be as truthful to her as she was with her own friends and family. At the very least, wouldn’t he have wanted to make her feel better?

  “That’s fair,” he said, rubbing the evening scruff on his cheeks. “I could sit here and tell you how I promise to be straightforward with you from now on, but I know that I’ve let you down. I don’t know how to handle this sort of thing. I’ve never met anyone like you before. I want to protect you and make you happy at the same time and I don’t always know how to do that.”

  “Practice right now. I need a little honesty from you. If I can figure out how to pay the rent, would you let me keep the bakery open?”

  He looked thoughtful but also a little doubtful, making her pulse pound inside her ears. Please say yes, she repeated in her head.

  “I have a surefire renter, a lucrative company, and they’re planning to move in at the beginning of January…” He stared at her, the corners of his mouth turning upward just slightly. “You’re going to need a rock-solid plan.”

  She squealed and threw her arms around him, elation taking over her body. Her excitement made him laugh, and he was clearly delighted he’d made her so happy. Then he unwound her arms from his neck, a serious look on his face. “Being honest,” he said, “I don’t know if you’ll be able to pull it off. I’m just giving you the reality of it. That area is changing and it might not be the best location.”

  “It’ll work,” she said, certain that she was on the right track. If she felt it in her gut, she could trust it. “Let me think about it and I’ll draw something up.”

  “Let’s see what you can do by New Year’s,” he said. “You’ve got until December thirty-first. That’s nearly a month. By then I’ll be able to take a look at some initial numbers.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “I’m liking this!” Jo said, entering the bakery and ducking behind the glass case to snag a cookie. She motioned to Heidi to see if she wanted a cookie, but she declined, suggesting coffee instead. They’d agreed to meet today for a weekend brainstorming lunch at the bakery, all of them chipping in for pizza. All except Phoebe, who was preparing for her audition.

  Tossing the empty pizza boxes into the trash can, Noelle turned on the brand-new espresso machine that was part of the equipment her dad had bought, offering everyone coffee and cookies for dessert. Lucas sat with Pop-pop in the comfy chair by the bookcase, her mother and father both on the small sofa near the window. Noelle was at the counter, still thinking.

  Snapping out of her thoughts, she said, “Pop-pop’s got vanilla and caramel syrups. Who wants vanilla?”

  Jo’s hand shot up like it had in school. She always had the answers back then. Perhaps she’d have them today too.

  After Noelle had made coffee for everyone, Lucas stayed in the chair to read his new book about the continents that Alex had gotten him, while the others gathered around the table. Noelle wrote the date at the top of her notepad and shuffled the few papers she’d printed off the computer in the back room.

  “I have a very general idea,” she said. All eyes were on her. When Pop-pop and her father had handed her full control of the bakery, she’d asked Heidi if she wanted a part in it, but her sister had said she had her hands full with work at the moment. She did say she would be more than happy to pitch in whenever Noelle wanted her there. They were all chatting, abuzz with excitement to hear what Noelle had in mind.

  “The new espresso machine got me thinking,” she said. “What if we transform the bakery into a coffee shop? People love them. The drinks would be our main focus, with the bakery items as an added bonus. We’d have to start small, but we’d focus on gourmet, specialty beverages—things like honey-cream lattes with local honey; we’d only include food pairings that would complement the coffees.”

  “Would you offer breakfast and lunch options? That could pull p
eople in,” Jo said. “Just thinking out loud…”

  Noelle tried not to get discouraged as she looked at the financial spreadsheet she’d printed. “We’re in the red right now. We have no funds to increase what we have in the inventory currently. We’re going to have to start really basic, like I said, and make very calculated purchases. I suggest we create a tiered plan with forecasts and possible directions we could take the shop at each stage as our revenue increases, but yes, Jo, that would be a great direction eventually. And we’re on a time crunch,” she added. “Alex wants to see what we can do by New Year’s. If we’re making money, we’ll get more time.”

  “What about the name, Noelle?” Pop-pop said. “Hope and Sugar was Gram’s choice. Would you consider keeping it?”

  Noelle remembered Gram’s explanation of the name Hope and Sugar. “Absolutely. Hope and Sugar Coffee House sounds amazing.”

  “So where do you suggest starting, then?” Jo said.

  “We’ve already got new machines. I say we research the five most popular coffees and get the ingredients for those; we continue with our bakery selections, but focus on pairings rather than cakes and pies. Perhaps biscotti and cookies should be our focus. We can offer small packages—a coffee and three cookies or latte and croissant—and maybe, if we can get going quickly enough, we could make Christmas bundles and sell them as gifts.”

  “What about bite-sized pastries?” Her mother spoke up. “I’m always overwhelmed at coffee shops because their pastries are huge. We could sell seventy-five-cent cake bites or things like that?”

  “Could be good for the bundles. Maybe we could start with Gram’s most popular double chocolate meringues. I’ll bet we could make those smaller.”

  “Absolutely,” her mother said.

  “I also had the idea of doing deliveries,” Noelle continued. “We could go into the new offices in the area and deliver coffees and pastries. Once we get up and running, we can try a small selection of sandwiches, like Jo suggested, and then move on to breakfast items. We’ll start everything with a big re-opening and invite everyone we know.”