Winter Wishes

by Fern Michaels

  “You deserve a noogie for that.”

  “A noogie? What’s that?”

  “You don’t know what a noogie is?” Noah had pretended incredulity.

  “No. But that’s because I think you just made it up.”

  “I certainly did not. A noogie is a time-honored punishment for minor offenses such as your earlier comments about snow.”

  “I don’t know how my comments about snow could be found offensive.”

  “That’s not a judgment you get to make,” Noah had informed her. “Do you want your noogie now?”

  She’d backed up a step. “First, I want to know what it is.”

  “It involves a fist,” Noah had said, taking a half step in her direction. He held up his right hand and folded his fingers into a fist. “Then you raise the middle knuckle like this.” He demonstrated.

  Meredith had watched him with equal parts nervousness and anticipation. “Okay.”

  “Now usually, I’d get the noogie recipient in a headlock, but in your case . . .” He’d studied her as if trying to make a difficult decision. “But in your case, you get a noogie right here.” Making a sudden move, he dug his knuckle into the ribs of her lower back. She grabbed his wrist. “Ah! That tickles!”

  He had stopped immediately, but he was so close she got caught up just looking into his eyes, feeling the warmth of his breath and his body. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No.” She felt breathless.

  “I never would.”

  “I know.” She was still locked in place, lost in his eyes.

  His gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips and back. He asked the question silently, but Meredith knew he wanted to kiss her then. She wanted him to. But instead she stepped back. “So that was a noogie, huh?”

  Noah snapped out of his trance. “That was such a far cry from a noogie that I’d be embarrassed even to call it a noogie.” He looked around the deserted hallway. “Don’t tell anyone.”

  “Afraid you’ll lose your champion noogie title?”

  “All-county three years running,” he said without missing a beat.

  “You’re a nut.”

  “That may be true, but let’s get back to the snow discussion. Now, I’ll need more details. What exactly constitutes ‘real snow’?”

  Meredith pretended to think while she looked at the few swirling flakes still coming down. “It has to be more than this.” She gestured at the weather outside.

  “Define more.”

  “Six inches.”

  “Six inches? All at once?”

  “That sounds reasonable.”

  “How about three?”

  “Are you bargaining with me?”

  “I’m negotiating. It could be years before we get six inches of snow all at once.” He glanced out at the leaden, gray sky. “On the other hand, it could happen next week.”

  Meredith knew one thing. She didn’t want to wait years before she and Noah had their coffee date. “Okay, three.”

  He looked at her. “Suddenly, you’re awfully agreeable.”

  “I thought men liked agreeable women.”

  “Actually, they’re suspicious of agreeable women.”

  “Okay. Six inches it is.” She turned to go. “Nice chatting with you.”

  “Except for me,” Noah said. “I like agreeable women. So have it your way. I’ll agree to three inches.”

  She walked backward away from him toward the door. “Three inches. On the ground. For at least twenty-four hours.”

  “Hey!”

  “Bye, Noah.”

  She swung through the doors, grinning like a crazy woman. Now that had been fun. She tried to remember when she’d enjoyed a conversation with a man as much. The answer was never.

  Maybe that was what had been missing in her previous relationships. A sense of fun. A sense of anticipation. Maybe she’d moved too fast and hadn’t really allowed herself the time she needed to get to know someone. That’s what everyone seemed to do. So there must be something to taking it slow. Even when she wanted to leap right into something with Noah.

  She’d finally decided to simply buy him a card. A simple holiday-themed card. Of course, it had to include a wintry snow scene. Inside, she wrote, “There are at least three inches of snow on this card. Would you like to have coffee with me? My treat.” Then she’d signed it and sealed it. To make it look like a gift, she found a small flat box and put the card inside. She wrapped it in bright red paper, tied it with a green bow, and put a gift tag on it. She placed it under the tree. At the back. Where it was hidden beneath all the other gaily wrapped packages.

  But sometime today, Noah would open it. And soon, she hoped, they’d have that coffee date. She found herself looking forward to it. Because she knew one thing. It would be fun.

  She was starting to wish that it would snow.

  For real. And she secretly wished it would stick to the ground, leaving her snowbound. With Noah. For days. Just the thought made her feel all warm and tingly inside.

  Chapter Seven

  When Meredith stepped into the teacher’s lounge, there appeared to be plenty of food left. The bell had rung for the start of fourth period minutes before. A couple of teachers were just leaving the lounge with their gifts in one hand and small plates of cookies in the other.

  The pile of gifts had dwindled and the few that were left looked a bit neglected and forlorn. The trash can was stuffed with used gift wrapping, curls of ribbon, and crushed bows. All of the discarded gift wrapping was mixed with used paper plates and cups and sticky plastic forks. Bits of paper and glitter as well as a squashed sugar cookie littered the floor. The room looked, Meredith thought, like a horde of picky scavengers had swept through, taken the tastiest bits of food and the best gifts, and left what they didn’t want behind.

  Meredith found the broom and dustpan in the closet and did a cursory sweep of the floor. She pushed everything in the trash can down to compact it and emptied the contents of the dustpan on top of it. She changed the liner, leaving the full one nearby for the janitorial staff, who would do a much more thorough cleanup later.

  Finally, she picked up a paper plate and checked out the potluck buffet. Everything looked good and no calories had been spared. She was pleased to note that the bowl of salad she had brought was nearly empty. She’d cut up chunks of vegetables: broccoli, cauliflower, celery, mushrooms, onions, yellow and green zucchini, and carrots. To that she’d added some shredded kale, spinach, and lettuce. She’d tossed it all in a light coating of homemade red wine vinaigrette. She’d correctly assumed that many of the staff would bring traditionally rich goodies and so would enjoy some lighter fare to balance it out.

  The turkey carcass looked like something a pack of hyenas had already attacked, but someone had brought in a deli tray on which a few slices of turkey were still available. She scraped up the crispy edges from a macaroni and cheese casserole, happy that someone had left them for her. As far as she was concerned, that was the best part. There was also a spoonful of a cheesy potato casserole left and a good portion of spaghetti pie.

  Carbs. Carbs. And more carbs, Meredith thought. But she no longer worried about a temporary tummy bulge or a costume that was too tight because she’d had a hot fudge sundae or a pepperoni pizza the night before. No more show directors getting on her case if she gained a pound or two.

  She’d been walking to and from school because it wasn’t far, and she enjoyed the exercise. Nashville was made for walkers. Almost every street had sidewalks that were in pretty good condition considering the age of the town. She liked studying the architecture of the older homes. And it was always fun to watch the young children playing in the yards. Sometimes they stopped what they were doing and stared at her with eagle eyes as she went by. Other times they waved shyly. The bolder ones would yell “Hi!” to her. That made her laugh and return the greeting.

  If she had a dog—no, she decided, when she had a dog—that would give her a reason to walk even more. Plus she�
��d be raking leaves in the fall, shoveling snow from her driveway in winter, and mowing the lawn in the summer. She’d also plant a garden. Gardening was supposed to be great exercise. Staying in shape was not going to be a problem at all.

  She’d like to take a walk in newly fallen snow. Be the first to leave footprints. It seemed romantic somehow. Maybe Noah would walk with her.

  “There you are.”

  As if she’d once again conjured his appearance just by thinking about him, Noah came through the door. He checked out her plate. “Not much left to choose from after the vultures came through, is there?”

  Meredith laughed. “Was it vultures? I was sure it was hyenas when I saw what was left of the turkey.”

  Noah lifted the turkey’s foil covering. “I think you might be right. We should pronounce it dead and give it a proper burial.” He picked up a plate and did his own scavenging through the leftovers before joining her. Pleasure and anticipation shot through her. Was that because they were together and alone?

  “I thought you ate earlier.”

  He eyed her plate. “You took the best part of the mac and cheese casserole. All of it.”

  “What? This?” She held up a bite of the crispy brown stuff that had bits of the softer macaroni underneath.

  “Yes. Thief. First you steal my heart, then the almost burnt macaroni.”

  Meredith couldn’t tell if the comment about stealing his heart was a joke or not. She realized she didn’t want it to be. Was this what falling in love felt like?

  “What’s it worth to you?” She held the fork closer to his lips to tease him. “Maybe we could make a deal.”

  He captured her wrist and held the fork still and ate the macaroni.

  “Hey! That was my macaroni.”

  “Let’s call it our macaroni.” He smiled, something that was clearly intended to distract her, because he snatched another bite of macaroni off her plate and popped it in his mouth.

  “Hmpff.” She pushed her plate in his direction. “Might as well take all of it now.” She crossed her arms and purposely pushed out her bottom lip.

  “Is this you pretending to be annoyed?” he asked at the same time he stabbed another crispy bite of casserole.

  “What makes you think I’m pretending?”

  Noah chewed and swallowed. “Either way it’s adorable.”

  “It is?” She smiled, not caring that her delight was so transparent.

  “What’s that phrase I’ve heard the kids use? Totes something.”

  “Totes adorbs?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “That’s it. When did we start speaking in partial words, by the way? Are we too busy these days to complete our adverbs and adjectives?”

  “Appare.”

  Noah eyed her before concentrating on how best to approach the spaghetti pie. “Appare? That’s not even a word.” He took a bite. “Is it?”

  “Neither is adorbs. Or totes. Well, it is, but not the way it’s used with that phrase.”

  She drummed her fingertips on her elbows and watched him eat while waiting for him to figure it out.

  “Hah.” It wasn’t a laugh, but it was close. “Good one. You’re pretty smart.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For a girl.”

  She narrowed her eyes. He disarmed her with a grin that told her he was kidding. “For a minute there, I thought I’d have to give you a noogie,” she said.

  “You thought about trying to give me a noogie.”

  “You think I can’t do it?”

  “I think I’d enjoy letting you try.”

  “We’ll see about that.” She glanced at his plate, which somehow was nearly empty. “So you didn’t eat earlier?”

  “Nah. There was an altercation in Mr. Hartman’s classroom. I had to take a couple of the boys outside and have a conversation with them.”

  “I hope no one was hurt.”

  “No. But it took them a while to listen to reason and apologize to each other.”

  “I bet taking them outside instead of to your office sped the process along.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Exposure to cold air makes people see reason much more quickly—is that it?”

  “That’s always been my theory.”

  “So you said you were looking for me. What for?”

  Noah got up from the table, dumped his plate in the trash, and rummaged through the remaining gifts under the tree. He came back with a box messily wrapped in paper that featured puppies and kittens peeking out of stockings hung from a mantel. Meredith decided an entire roll of tape had been used to seal the ends. The ribbon looked like it had been strangled by a madman, and the bow was slightly crushed.

  He handed the box to her. “I’m not very good at wrapping presents.” She bit her lip. That was an understatement if ever there was one. It would have been more accurate to say Noah sucked big-time at wrapping presents. But since he already knew it wasn’t one of his strengths, she saw no reason to rub it in.

  “You got my name?”

  “Thus the present. Don’t let the wrapping fool you. I’m pretty sure I nailed it.”

  He looked a bit smug, and it made Meredith smile. She’d struggled so much about what to give him and how to present it. Had choosing a gift for her been easy for him?

  She set the box on the table and pushed her chair back.

  “Where are you going? Aren’t you even going to open it?”

  She walked over to the gift table and found his gift easily and brought it to him. “Here you go. Please note the precision wrapping and the perfect bow.”

  “Show-off.” He held the box in his hands and shook it once. “It’s awfully light.”

  “Don’t let the weight fool you. I’m pretty sure I nailed it.”

  He looked at her. “Do you think it means something? That we got each other’s names?”

  “Like out of all the houses for sale and all the high schools in all the small towns in America, I just happened to walk into yours?”

  “Something like that.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Had fate or some larger force in the universe brought them together? They’d never know. “Maybe,” she allowed.

  “Or it could just be we got caught in the randomness of the universe.”

  “Entirely possible,” she agreed.

  He lifted her present from the table and handed it to her. “You go first.”

  “Let’s open them at the same time,” she suggested.

  “Okay.”

  “But you have to give me a head start. Or better yet, a sharp knife. There’s a lot of tape on here.”

  “I wanted you to enjoy the anticipation.”

  “Oh, I am,” she assured him. “One. Two. Three. Go.”

  They started unwrapping. Meredith decided to bypass the taped ends of the box and simply rip through the paper, hoping she didn’t break a nail. By the time she got the wrapping off, Noah was already reading his card.

  His gaze came up to hers. “You were right. You nailed it.”

  She couldn’t help her smile of delight. All her thinking about what to give him and how to give it to him had paid off.

  She lifted the lid on her box and pushed aside red and green tissue paper to find two exquisite Christmas mugs, a small package of gourmet coffee, and one of gourmet hot chocolate mix. The mugs were midnight blue covered with snowflakes and the words, “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”

  Their eyes met. “I guess you know what I like.”

  Noah smiled. “I guess I do.”

  Chapter Eight

  Saturday morning, Meredith bounced out of bed and skipped into the kitchen. She got a burst of joy as she always did each time she entered the room. It was warm and cozy and just the right size. She could sit at the breakfast table with her coffee and gaze out the window at the backyard and the trees beyond and daydream. Sometimes she wrote in the journal she’d begun keeping the day she left Las Vegas. She hadn’t done much journaling in the past, but she’d fel
t like this new adventure she’d set out on needed to be documented. Maybe someday she’d look back and want to remember the journey. So often she’d heard people say it’s not the journey, it’s the destination, but Meredith had begun to believe that perhaps it was both. Her destination had been Nashville, Kansas, certainly, but arriving here was only part of the journey. Life was a journey, she supposed, and it had less to do with where you were in the physical world than the experiences you had every day along the way. The people you met. The people who became important to you.

  Like Noah.

  Meredith started coffee and watched it drip into the carafe. It seemed like Noah was destined to be a significant part of her journey. She hadn’t been looking for someone special. Someone like him. She hadn’t been looking for anything when she’d left Las Vegas because she didn’t know what she really wanted. She still wasn’t a hundred percent sure what she wanted, but she knew she wanted Noah to be a part of her journey toward finding it.

  She was looking forward to their coffee date this afternoon. He’d wasted no time scheduling it, that was for sure. Last night, she’d washed the mugs he’d given her so she could use one this morning. She took one from the shelf and added some sweetener and a shake of cinnamon. When the coffee was ready, she poured a cup and sat at the table to make a list.

  She was planning to do a bit of shopping early this morning. She wanted to get some Christmas lights and maybe a few decorations for outside. And a wreath for the front door. There wasn’t really anyplace to hang lights, but she’d thought wrapping strands of white lights around the trunk of that big oak tree would be pretty. She didn’t want to have the only house on the block that wasn’t decorated. Everyone in her neighborhood would think she was a Scrooge.

  In the spring, she’d plant some bushes on either side of the front stoop and hope they got big enough by next Christmas so she could drape lights over them. Plus, by then she’d have acquired a ladder and could hang lights from the eaves of the house. But for now, she was starting small, trying to be thoughtful about what she wanted. Looking before she leapt.

  After a light breakfast, she got dressed. She’d quickly realized that layering was the best option for the Kansas winter weather. She wasn’t sure how she felt about bundling up to go outside, then unbundling bit by bit depending on the indoor temperatures of stores and restaurants. Then putting everything back on to go out again. On the other hand, she liked the opportunity to wear sweaters and turtlenecks, jackets and scarves. And boots. She dearly loved boots. She already had three pairs courtesy of her initial outing to the mall in Greenburg. A black ankle-high pair that went well with slacks. A knee-high pair that she could wear with just about anything, including skirts. And she hadn’t been able to resist an impractical over-the-knee style as well. They were black and shiny and sexy. She’d bought an adorable plaid skirt and a soft angora-like sweater in a shade of creamy white. Paired with the over-the-knee boots, she’d look like a schoolgirl ready to paint the town red. The thought delighted her. Must be her years of wearing costumes in Vegas coming back to haunt her.