This beautiful girl knew her way around a toolbox. Jamison was right. It was kind of exciting. He could imagine himself telling people about Elda installing a new kitchen sink, and they’d think it was cool. And then Danny’d be cool by association.
And there he was trying to get people to like him again. Damn it. Just like that, Holly was back inside his head.
Elda gestured toward the building to their right, Mags’s Diner, one of the oldest storefronts in town. “Did you know that used to be a house?” Elda sounded like she was reciting lines from a play.
“I did, yeah,” Danny said.
Elda kept going, as if she’d memorized this monologue and she was going to finish it. “The first settlers in this town lived there, the Bell family. They moved in during the mid-1800s.” Now her eyes lit up. “They all died. Right inside the house. From lead poisoning. Their plates and bowls were made out of the lead from the nearby mines.”
“I did not know that part,” Danny said.
“It’s interesting, right?” Elda stared at the building like she could see the ghosts of the Bell family lurking inside.
It was interesting, Danny supposed, but he was more interested in the intricate stonework on the outside walls and the renovations Mags had to do before opening the restaurant—she’d had to lengthen the doorways, for example. People were much shorter back in the day. “I just hope Mags doesn’t use those same dishes in her diner.”
Elda snorted. “Oh my God! What if she’s been using lead plates this whole time and they’ve affected people’s brains, and that’s why this place is so Christmas obsessed?”
Danny grinned. This sounded more like the smart, snarky, imaginative girl he’d been texting for the past few days. “That’s a great idea for a movie. I should ask my friend Sam to write the script.”
Elda, who had skipped ahead of him a few paces, spun around, and the sunlight reflected off the reddish highlights in her hair. “What’s your favorite movie?”
Hadn’t they already talked about it? Danny could’ve sworn that had been part of one of their first conversations. He’d said that he loved Taxi Driver, and Elda had said that she was more of a Goodfellas girl. Then they got into a discussion about their favorite Martin Scorsese movies. Maybe she’d forgotten. “You talkin’ to me?” he said with a grin.
Elda frowned. “Yeah,” she said, holding her hand over her eyes to block the sun’s glare. She glanced around, scanning the crowds of tourists walking down Main Street. “Who else would I be talking to?”
“No,” Danny said. “Taxi Driver. Remember. It’s my favorite movie. It’s a line…Robert De Niro…”
Elda’s eyes narrowed, questioning, for a moment. Then she giggled, waving Danny off. “I remember. I was just messing with you.”
“Oh. Good joke.” But it wasn’t, really. It was just kind of odd, and not at all how she would’ve responded on the phone. Via text, she probably would’ve asked if Danny thought she was a clown, and she would’ve included a gif of Joe Pesci with it. But Elda still looked bewildered, like she had no idea what Danny was talking about.
“So, do you really think Holly hates you?” Elda asked as they passed the arcade. She was peeking into the windows.
She was bringing up Holly now? On their date? Holly was the last person Danny wanted to think about today. “Oh. I don’t know,” Danny said. “I mean, she said she doesn’t like me, so.”
“Holly can be kind of a tough nut to crack,” Elda said. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think she hates you. She’s just…Holly.” They were past the arcade now, and Elda seemed to have stopped searching for something outside their conversation.
“During the second round of the gingerbread competition, when you weren’t there, Holly and I had, I thought, a pretty good conversation. She’s interesting and funny.” And cute. “But then she snapped at me in the arcade later. I don’t know what I did.”
“I’m sure you didn’t do anything. She’s super private and in her head.” Elda touched her temple. “Her snapping probably had nothing to do with you. Wrong place, wrong time. She’s sad, too. She won’t talk about it, but I know she misses our grandma.”
This was one of the longest, easiest conversations he and Elda’d had in person to date, and it was all about Holly. He might as well keep it going. “Does she have a boyfriend?”
“Holly?” Elda raised her eyebrows, then she shook her head. “No. At least I don’t think so. We talk all the time, but she doesn’t say much about herself, really. She’s always helping me with my problems. She’s a great listener, and she’d do anything for the people she cares about.” Elda frowned, stopping short on the sidewalk, deep in thought. “I can’t say I know as much about her. Maybe because I don’t ask.” She looked right at Danny. “Maybe I should ask.”
The two of them walked in silence the rest of the way down the block.
At the architecture tour office, Craig was standing behind the front counter in his mom jeans and blue fleece jacket. He was going to be their tour guide today. Naturally. “What are you two doing here?”
“We’re here for the tour, Craig,” Danny said.
“We’re on a date.” Elda moved a step closer to Danny and gazed up at him. He considered putting an arm around her or taking her hand or something else date-like, but none of that felt right to him. Would it be too soon, too forward, too presumptuous? He patted her shoulder instead, which was definitely the wrong move. Ugh.
Craig looked from Danny to Elda and back to Danny. “I don’t see it.”
“You don’t have to see it, Craig.” Danny’s face flushed. Damn it, Craig, always noticing and commenting on every little thing. Why couldn’t he just mind his own business like everyone else?
Craig grabbed his guidebook and led them out onto Main Street. He pointed out the flying buttresses on the chapel and the gorgeous stained-glass windows off the back of The Chinese Restaurant.
But on the way to Prince’s Summer Sports, Craig sidled up to Elda. “How long does this date last?”
“I don’t know, Craig.” Elda raised her eyebrows. “It’s a date. It lasts as long as it lasts.”
What did she mean by that? Was she saying she’d stick with Danny for as long as they were having some approximation of fun, or that she was booking it out of here the second the tour was over?
“Some of us are meeting up at the arcade later, if you’re interested.” Craig nodded down the street, toward Santa’s Playhouse.
“Okay, Craig. Enough. Just keep talking about the buildings.” Danny wedged his body between Craig’s and Elda’s. He was actually flirting with Danny’s date right in front of him. What the hell, Craig?
“I…um…” Elda’s shoulders were up by her ears. She was the picture of discomfort. “So, what’s your favorite building in North Pole?”
“Mags’s Diner,” Craig said right away.
“Danny,” Elda said. “I was asking Danny.” She smiled at Danny, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She was only a few inches shorter than him, unlike Holly. He had over a half a foot on Holly.
Danny rolled his eyes at Elda—he wasn’t sure why, if it was because this was such an absurd date or because he was feeling uncomfortable, but whatever. Why didn’t matter. It made her laugh. And then he was laughing, too. He felt better than he had all day. He’d been so tense, which was silly. He was on a date with this awesome girl who liked him, whom he liked, too. He had to stop worrying about saying the right thing or whether or not Craig had more game than he did. All that mattered right now was Elda. “I love the town hall,” he said.
She was still watching him, brow furrowed.
Craig, who had been attempting to describe the brickwork on Prince’s Summer Sports, folded his arms. “I’ll wait, while you finish your obviously very important conversation.”
Danny’s heart sped up a bit as he told Elda his story and tried to block out Craig’s angry glare. “I remember back when we were kids, you and your grandma built this replica of the North
Pole Town Hall, and it was, I think, my favorite gingerbread showstopper of all time. You captured the essence of the place, but with licorice columns and lollipop trees and steps made of marzipan. I remember looking at it and being like, I want to live there.” He grinned down at her. “Whenever I see the town hall, I think about that showstopper. And…well…you.” Now he knew he was blushing. It was the most real he’d gotten with Elda in person. If Craig hadn’t been standing right next to them, this probably would’ve been the time for them to kiss.
Danny waited for Elda’s reaction. She had to give him something—a smile, a nod, a squeeze of the hand, some acknowledgement that this was a big moment for the two of them.
But she stayed lost in her own world. Her face wasn’t relieved or happy or excited or any of the emotions Danny had been banking on. She looked sad, actually. She looked like the admission about her town hall showstopper was the worst possible thing he could’ve said. That probably had something to do with Danny making the rookie mistake of bringing up a girl’s recently deceased grandmother on a date.
Danny, attempting to move on, asked Craig, “What about the brickwork?” And their tour continued, though Danny blocked out every single word. He couldn’t get Elda’s frown out of his head.
Outside the bakery, Craig talked about how the building used to be a haberdashery back in the day. Elda’s arms were folded, and she kept looking off to the side, like she wasn’t listening to any of it. This date was a failure. Danny was a failure. He’d opened up to Elda, and it had been exactly the wrong thing to do. He had shown her a bit of who he was, and she’d rejected him.
When he was with Star, he was always altering his opinions or hiding his true feelings because of her. After they broke up, he vowed not to get into another relationship like that, but maybe that was just how relationships worked and making concessions was all part of the deal. Maybe if Elda wasn’t going to come to him, he’d have to meet her where she was. At least that’d give him a fighting chance.
“That’s very cool, Craig.” Danny had no actual idea what he’d been talking about, but that was pretty much standard when it came to his interactions with Craig. Danny peered into the front window of the bakery. Tinka was inside decorating a tray of cookies. “All the architecture info is great, but what I really want to know is: what’s the grossest stuff that’s ever happened in this town? Where are the literal bodies buried?”
Elda was looking at him now, a faint and curious smile on her face. She reached over and squeezed his hand, which was clutching the handle of his crutch. His body warmed slightly, though he felt like he’d only won the battle, not the war. Things were still kind of odd. She’d frowned at him when he confessed that he’d been thinking about her for years, but she was ready with a hand squeeze at the first mention of dead bodies.
They walked next to each other down Main Street, listening to Craig tell stories about the skeleton that was found under the roof above the Mexican restaurant, and the teenage girl who was hit by a car back in the 1930s and still haunted the gun shop, and the alleged half man-half goat who used to live in the apartment above the dry cleaners. Elda grinned and cheered and squealed as Craig revealed every scandalous detail.
Danny could barely muster a smile. This girl in person was so different from the girl whose words had been all over his phone screen for the past week or so. He’d built their budding romance into something perfect—a neat, precise structure that had met every one of his specifications. But life wasn’t perfect, and neither were people. He wasn’t being fair to Elda, expecting her to conform to this specific little image he’d created in his head.
When the tour finally ended, Danny, whose left leg was about to fall off from overuse, took off toward home with Elda.
“This was fun.” Elda did a little twirl on the sidewalk. “Thanks.” She beamed as the two of them walked down the street. “Those stories Craig told.” Her eyes sparkled. “I love that stuff, don’t you?”
He didn’t, but he liked that she liked it. The fact that Elda was into some creepy stuff made her interesting. “Yeah, sure. I totally love it.”
Elda stopped walking and narrowed her eyes at him. “Liar.” Her hands were on her hips, and she was staring at him hard.
He stopped, too, and leaned on his crutches. He needed a long nap or something. He was physically and emotionally drained from this afternoon. “No, I really like this stuff,” he said, plastering on a big smile. “If it doesn’t seem like it, I’m just beat.”
She nodded slowly, and Danny got the sense that she still didn’t believe him. “If you say so.” She was testing him.
“I do say so.” He started walking again, and so did she.
“Well, since you’re all in on this creepy supernatural North Pole stuff, then I bet you’ve gone looking for some things, like the goat man.”
“You actually believe there’s a goat man?” he asked.
“Don’t you?”
Danny was a total cynic. He’d lived here his entire life, and he’d heard all the stories before. He’d never once seen a ghost or a goat man or even a ghost of a goat. He’d assumed Elda was just like him. The girl he’d been texting with had come off as pragmatic as he was. She would’ve been able to see through all of Craig’s bologna. She probably would’ve been right next to him making jokes about it. Or maybe Danny had misread her earnest words as sarcasm. It was hard to interpret tone in a text message.
Again Danny met Elda where she was instead of dragging her over to his pessimistic side. It’s the same way he would’ve acted with Star, saying what she wanted to hear instead of voicing his own opinion. Evidently he was going to have to keep doing this for his entire dating life. “Remember how you fooled me by saying you didn’t remember my favorite movie? I was just trying to fool you by pretending the goat man wasn’t real,” he said. “He totally is. The goat man graduated from high school with my mom, actually.”
Elda folded her arms, watching him again. “I know you’re kidding,” she said. “But I’m going to pretend you’re not because it’s more fun that way.”
Danny followed Elda down the street. He was never, ever going to find someone who totally got him. He’d keep working his ass off to understand others, but no one was ever going to try to understand him.
…
Holly’s gingerbread replica of her grandma’s house was really taking shape. And it was a great distraction from the fact that Elda and Danny were out on their date right now. The baking was done, and she’d moved on to constructing the showstopper out in the garage. By herself. Away from people, just the way she liked it.
But Holly wasn’t completely alone. Her grandmother was with her. Holly sensed her presence in the air. This was what she was meant to do. She was supposed to recreate this house that had meant so much to Grandma and Holly and the rest of the family. They were about to hand the keys over to someone new, and this would be Holly’s last opportunity to honor their past, to show the entire town what this place had meant to all of them.
She was just adhering the turreted roof when Elda came in, wearing a pair of old jeans from when Aunt Vixi was in high school and an oversize men’s undershirt. She waved and went right over to Grandma’s workbench, hunting for tools.
Holly checked her watch. Almost six. “How was your date?”
“Um…fine.”
“Fine?” Was that really all she had to say? Maybe it was enough. Holly’s mind was stuck between wanting to know and wanting to run away screaming with her fingers in her ears.
Elda slammed a drawer shut. “I’ve got to go to the hardware store.”
“What for?”
Elda wrapped an old tool belt around her waist and threw her long, dark hair up in a ponytail. “Pipe dope and water-pump pliers. The valve seat in the bathroom sink is rough.”
Holly only understood about half the words in that statement. With her life on the line, Holly would have no idea where to start on a sink. She’d probably flood the whole house. Her pare
nts were terrified of pipes and drains and faucets. Holly’s dad had never attempted anything more difficult than unclogging a drain.
Elda came over and crouched down next to Holly, hiking those baggy jeans up over her slender hips. “Wow. This is really coming together.” Elda ran a hand over the turret’s cone-shaped roof. “How’d you even do this?”
Holly was super proud of the roof. While baking the walls of the house, she’d hemmed and hawed about how to do the turret. Then she found a can in the recycling bin, around which she baked the rounded wing of the house. Then she used a scrap of sheet metal from the garage to form the mold for the cone-shaped roof. It turned out perfectly on the first try, like Holly had experienced divine baking intervention. Thanks, Grandma.
Elda picked up one of the tiny gingerbread fence posts Holly had been working on earlier. An actual gingerbread house wasn’t the sexiest, most out-of-the-box idea, but she was going to create such a perfect replica no one would be able to accuse her of taking the easy way out. “I’m impressed.”
“Hopefully the judges will be, too.” Holly wiped her sticky hands on a wet towel and grabbed a sip of water from the “World’s Best Grandma” mug. “So, please, tell me about your date.” She didn’t really want to hear, but she had to know.
Elda popped a gumdrop in her mouth, and Holly swatted her hand away from the bowl. She needed every last piece for this showstopper. “Like I said, it was fine. I just…I don’t know if we’re compatible.”
“Sure you are,” Holly said. “You could be the king and queen of North Pole.”
Elda pulled up a chair next to Holly’s at the table. “He’s pretending to like the things I like.”
Holly shrugged. “That’s how it works, right? You pretend to like the stuff he likes, he pretends to like the stuff you like, and by the time you figure out you have nothing in common, it’s too late.”
Elda laughed. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’m kind of kidding,” Holly said. “But, like, isn’t it all about putting your best foot forward to make a good impression? Isn’t that the game?” In her own case, Holly was putting her cousin’s face forward, since it was such a good face. Elda, as awkward as she was, drew people to her. Holly, the loner, didn’t.
Approximately Yours (North Pole, Minnesota) Page 12
