by Nancy Naigle
“There are some advantages to a pre-lit tree,” Geoff said.
“That just takes all the fun out of getting it right.”
“Clearly one of us is better at it.”
“Me!”
“I’m going to have to use the squint method,” Geoff said. “Stand back here and squint and we’ll see where the gaps are.”
“Well, aren’t you just clever,” Angela teased. “Hope our eyes don’t stick like this.”
“Yeah, not your best look.” He squinched his eyes back at her.
“You realize it’s going to take you a day to take all these lights back off this tree,” he said.
“You’re going to come and help me take them down, aren’t you? I mean, you can’t just do half the job.”
She regretted being so forward as soon as she’d said it.
“Oh, I’ll be here.” He stopped, looked at the tree and then her again. “I’d like that very much.”
It was eight o’clock and all they’d done was get the lights right. That and eat.
“Are you sure you’re up for decorating the tree too?” Angela was pretty sure Geoff had no idea what he’d gotten himself into.
“Absolutely. All the way to the point we put the tree topper on. Oh, wait. Star or angel?”
“Oh gosh. Is there a wrong answer?”
“I don’t know. You don’t have a Surfing Santa or a Billy the Bass or something crazy like that, do you?”
She laughed so hard she had to put her glass of tea down before she dropped it. “We’ve never sold anything like that in my store.”
He got caught up in her laughing. “We have.”
“Please tell me that’s not true.”
He raised his hand. “True story. Okay, it wasn’t the real Billy the Bass, which was kind of cool, but it was a singing fish wearing a Santa hat with a candy cane hook in its mouth.”
“No way.”
“Way.”
“I have a couple of Christmas tree toppers. All tasteful. I lean more toward the star or the angel.”
“Great. Let’s get this tree decorated.”
She pointed to a red plastic container labeled GERMAN GLASS CHRISTMAS ORNAMENTS. “Do you want to start with those?”
“Sure.” He walked over and slid it near the tree.
As soon as he lifted the lid, she knew which ornaments they were.
“Those are glass ornaments that have to be every bit of eighty years old.” She opened the lid on the box in front of her. “These are some of the last original ornaments my great-great-grandmother made. They are what started Heart of Christmas.” She lifted a star made from an oil lamp wick, and another in a nautical knot. “They aren’t fancy, but they’re special. I’ve never seen anything like them.”
“I like them.” He carried a bright red glass ornament in the shape of a pointy egg with a silver indention on one side and ribbed in a starry pattern. “I think what makes it special is the story.”
“You’re right.” She hung a wick star on the tree. Then another.
The two of them worked their way up and down and around the tree, spreading out the balls and handmade ornaments to create a perfect collision of textures and colors amid the lights.
“Time for the topper?” she asked.
“I think so. Which will it be?”
She took two wads of taped bubble wrap out of a box. Gently she unwrapped them, uncovering an exquisite Christmas angel tree topper first. Her beautiful dress was made of white peacock feathers, with tiny crystals in a circle for the halo. Going to work on the other one, Angela uncovered a porcelain star that had a place for a light to shine through it, to give it a heavenly glow.
“Which one do you like best?”
“The angel.”
“Would you like to do the honors?” She lifted the pretty angel and handed her to him.
“I would.” He put the topper on the tree, then pushed the angel with his finger until she was straight.
“We’re done.”
Angela was a little sad to call it a night.
He took out his phone and took a picture of the tree. “That was fun.”
“It was. Thank you for the tree. You’re right. I would’ve regretted not having one.” She’d have regretted missing out on this night even more.
“You’re welcome. I guess I’d better get going, but I was thinking. Maybe, if you’re not too busy tomorrow, you could show me around Pleasant Sands.”
“Sure!” She’d answered so quickly. She pressed her lips together, catching her breath. “I know everything to do, and just about everyone in this town. I haven’t done much of it in years, myself. I’ve been heads-down with my store, but I can be your tour guide.”
“I’d like that.”
“What’s interesting to you?”
“It doesn’t matter. I haven’t seen anything except what’s out the window of my store or my condo.”
“We’ve got lots of history. How the town got started, pirates and all that stuff. Or, there’s always the restaurants, or wait, we could go down to the marina and eat. They cook what’s brought in live right from the boats. You won’t get fresher seafood. What else? Oh, there’s—”
“Whoa. Slow down, Miss Pleasant Sands. Let’s start with the marina. But we can’t just eat the whole afternoon. Let’s do something after we eat too.”
“I’ve got an idea. Can I surprise you?”
“I have no doubt that you can,” he said with a laugh.
“What I meant by that was … do you like surprises?”
“Hmm. You know, I can’t say that I’ve ever been surprised. I don’t know if I like being surprised or not, but I’m up for giving it a try.”
“Great!” She rubbed her hands together. She loved surprises. At least when she was the one doing the surprising. “I’ll take care of everything. Where should we meet?”
“I can pick you up, or you could come to my condo if we’re going to eat at the marina. Your choice.”
She hesitated. At least if she met him at his condo she’d have her car with her. Plus, she was a little curious to see where he lived. What he surrounded himself with.
“I’ll come to you.”
“Great. How about noon? I’m at 123 Sailfish. Eighth floor.”
“I’ll be there,” she said, as they walked to the door.
“You’ve got a date.”
The word “date” made her gasp. “I—”
“Don’t overthink it. I just meant it’s on my calendar.”
“Oh. Yeah. Of course. Yes, it will be fun.”
Chapter Thirty-two
DID YOU KNOW?
Pleasant Sands has 2.7 miles of beachfront. Most people say three, but that’s not true.
The next morning, Angela woke up in a great mood. She was even happier when she walked into the living room and saw the tree again. She turned on its lights, then got her coffee and sat there looking at the tree, reliving so many wonderful holiday memories. She squinted her eyes, blurring the lights like they had last night.
It had been so much fun. She was looking forward to spending time with Geoff today.
She changed outfits three times before finally settling on “attractive, but not trying too hard.”
She drove over to the marina into his gated community and parked in front of his building. She hadn’t seen the condos up close before. No one she knew lived here. Mostly they were occupied by older, retired couples, or people who were heading even farther south during the winters and would just lock up their condos and leave until spring.
The place had a resort feel to it. Beautiful, but also somewhat temporary. A little too perfect, with manicured shrubs and grass that looked like sod. Every bit of the landscaping was the same throughout the whole complex.
She parked her car in a visitor spot and took the elevator to the eighth floor.
The mat in front of his door was of an old red woody station wagon with surfboards on the top of it. She rang the bell and waited, wiping her
sweating palms on her pants.
This had seemed like such a good idea last night. Now it felt awkward to be showing up at a man’s condo.
He answered the door dressed in khakis and a blue button-down. His sunglasses hung around his neck from a black strap. He definitely looked the part of a guy living at the marina. More like one who owned a yacht.
“Come on in,” he said.
There was no “excuse the mess” or anything, and it was clear why. Everything was picture-perfect. It looked like she’d just stepped into a model home. The ceilings were higher than the normal eight feet. Probably ten, and the height gave the condo a wide-open feel.
Straight ahead of her was a wall of glass doors opening to a patio with a million-dollar view. “Wow,” she said, drawn toward it. “I thought the view from my deck was the best.”
“It’s pretty awesome. And the people are great here too. Most of the fishing charters go out from here, so that’s been kind of neat to get used too. Those boys get started early.”
“They sure do.” She turned and stepped back inside. “Show me around.”
He toured her through the house.
“Did someone decorate for you?”
“Yes. I could never put all this stuff together.”
“It’s very nice.”
“Thank you.”
There wasn’t anything homey about it, but it was very tastefully done. “I’m going to take you to a little spot that only the locals know for lunch. I made reservations for us. We need to head that way or we’ll be late,” Angela said.
“I thought we were going to eat here at the marina.”
“We are. Sort of. Just on the other side.”
“Lead the way,” he said. “I’ll drive.”
“I can drive. I know the way. It’ll be easier.”
She drove them outside of the fancy gated community, down a road that curved around to the back side of it. There on the water, next to four shrimp trawlers, was a shack. Hand-painted across the front was FRESH FRANK’S in big school-bus-yellow letters.
“Don’t judge,” she said as they got out of the car.
“I didn’t even know this was back here.”
“Surprise.” She walked through the shell sand and opened the door for him.
He stepped inside, letting his eyes adjust to the dimly lit space.
“Hey, Frank!” she called out. “We’re here.”
Geoff looked at her with surprise, then lowered his voice as he whispered, “This is where you made our lunch reservations?”
She was enjoying this. She knew the place would catch him off guard, but she also knew it would be the best shrimp he’d ever eaten.
“Come on in. Table in the back is for you two,” a man’s voice came from beyond where they could see.
“Not just anyone can get a table here,” she whispered to Geoff. “Come on.”
An hour later Frank was sitting at the table with them, still in his apron, telling stories about his days on the trawler. They had come to an end when he got his leg caught in a winch line. He’d gotten so mangled that he’d lost the bottom half of his leg.
He didn’t wear a prosthesis. His empty pant leg just hung next to the other, along for the ride.
“Frank, that was without a doubt the best meal I’ve ever had, and let me tell you, I’ve eaten at the finest restaurants up and down the East Coast.”
“Thank you, Geoff. I’m so glad Angela brought you over. We don’t much let outsiders know about this place.”
“This is my favorite seafood restaurant, Frank,” Angela said. “And don’t tell Garvy or I’ll deny it.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Frank said.
Geoff agreed. “I’m not going to give you up, unless you say you aren’t inviting me back.”
Angela pretended to be shocked. “That’s bribery.”
“That’s my ticket to great food.” Geoff got up and held the door for her. “Where are we off to next?”
“You’ll see,” she said.
She drove him through town, pointing out historical homes and sharing the stories behind each one. “We have two-point-seven miles of beachfront in Pleasant Sands. Most people say three, but that’s not true. And over here is Kite Peak Park. It’s second only to Jockey’s Ridge in Nags Head near Kitty Hawk.”
“I know about Kitty Hawk. That’s where the Wright brothers took their first flight.”
Angela gave him a sideward glance and a smirk. “Well, that might be what everyone knows about, but did you know that, in fact, those Wright boys actually came up with the idea that turned into that first air machine while vacationing at their grandmother’s house here in Pleasant Sands? That house still stands at the corner of Sunnyside and Dolphin. I’ll show you.”
The name WRIGHT was engraved in the mortar above the front door. “You weren’t kidding.”
“I never kid about town history.”
She dropped him off at six-thirty, happy for the fulfilling day.
* * *
On Sunday morning Angela went to church and then opened the store at noon as usual, but with just three days left until Christmas, things were pretty picked over. Most of the inventory now fit in the front main room of the shop.
She’d be perfectly willing to keep the few high-end items that were left for herself.
Customers trickled in all day long, and no one left without some purchase, even if it was just a small one.
At four o’clock Angela was polishing an ornament she’d just engraved when she heard Jeremy talking to someone. “Good to see you again.”
She looked up and saw him talking to Geoff, and her heart fluttered.
“Hey there,” Geoff said. “Hope you don’t mind me stopping in.”
“Hi. No, we’ll be closing up here in a little bit.”
“This place is nearly empty.”
She nodded. It was good, but sad at the same time. “Just a few really nice pieces left.”
Jeremy said, “Excuse me, Angela, I’m going to go close down Snow Valley.”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” she said.
Geoff watched Jeremy leave, then said, “It looks really different in here. This place is a lot bigger than it seemed when it was full of inventory.”
“Did you need something?”
“No. Not really. I was just thinking about you.”
“That’s nice.”
He walked down the hallway that Jeremy had taken him down to get to the special ornaments the day he’d been here. He took the time today to read the framed newspaper articles.
“You told me about some of these things,” he said. “I remember you showing me this house yesterday.”
She nodded. “Everything on this wall is from the town’s history.”
“Your face…”
“What?” She swept at her cheek, suddenly self-conscious.
“No. It’s perfect. It lights up when you talk about these.” He looked back at the framed history on the walls. “It’s not really the Christmas stuff at all, is it?”
“What do you mean?”
Geoff turned and leaned against the wall, standing between an article about Angela’s great-great-grandmother being the state’s first woman lighthouse keeper, and one about the Wright family house. “It’s this place. The history that you love. And not only the history, but sharing it with others.”
“I do love that.”
Geoff stepped closer to her. “This wasn’t a store. It was almost a museum.”
“I’ve thought about other ways I could let the lighthouse earn its keep, but there’s not anything so special about it that it would draw people in, and I don’t see myself as the bed-and-breakfast type.” Angela walked down the hallway. “I’ll figure something out.”
“I know you will,” Geoff said.
Jeremy came back inside and stomped the snow from his boots on the mat. “All done!” he called out.
Angela tried to hide her laugh. It was as if he was trying to be sure he wa
sn’t going to walk in on them in an awkward situation.
“Tomorrow night my niece is a mouse in The Nutcracker over at the auditorium. Would you by chance like to join me?” Angela had thought about it the other day, but it wasn’t until now that she’d gotten up the courage to ask him.
“I’d love that. What time should I pick you up?”
“Six-thirty?” Angela was looking forward to going to the show with someone. A first in a long, long time. “It’s casual.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then.”
When he walked out the door she was standing there still staring when Jeremy came up behind her.
“He kind of likes you.”
“No. We’re just friends,” Angela said.
“That was not a friendly look in that man’s eyes. He likes you.” Jeremy pulled on his coat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good night. Thanks for everything,” she said. Including that last little bit of information. Was it possible Mr. Christmas Galore really did like her?
Chapter Thirty-three
DID YOU KNOW?
Pleasant Sands is the birthplace of Danielle Shelton. A student at Pleasant Sands High School, in 1987 she played the Nutcracker, and won the chance to play a walk-on role in a soap opera in 1990. Since then, she has gone on to appear in more than ten movies.
Angela and Geoff sat in the middle of the auditorium waiting for The Nutcracker to begin. Children zipped back and forth between the back of the stage and sneaking last-minute moments with their parents.
“There’s my sister and her husband,” Angela pointed out. “In the second row.”
He recognized her sister. Then two little girls raced out from behind the curtain to the second row, hand in hand; one was dressed as an angel and the other was a Christmas mouse.
“It’s like watching a Ping-Pong match,” Geoff mused. “They are going back and forth, and back and forth. That’s crazy.”
“They are moving as fast as giddy greyhounds,” she said.
“Now, that’s a graphic.” He placed his hand on her leg.
She glanced at it and for a moment she thought he was going to pull his hand back, but then she gently placed hers atop his.
“Speaking of greyhounds,” she said.
