“You say ‘on behalf’ like we were doing him a favor, Tuck. I’m fairly certain he’s the one that called the cops on me and Chrissy that night on his pond. Some sort of wreath revenge.”
“You know, he doesn’t even come to these anymore,” Tucker said around a guilty laugh. “Think we effectively ruined it for him?”
“I think we ruined a lot of things back in our day. The time the brakes went out on your dad’s 1967 Mustang and we jumped the curb at over forty miles an hour. Mr. Kelleher’s garage window when I hit that grand slam the summer of our sixth grade year.” Nick lifted a finger with each recollection, ticking them off one by one. “The drama class’s performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream—popcorn disaster of the century. Senior prom with the faulty smoke machine. Graduation and the gown mishap. The list could—and does—go on.”
“Rather than ruining, I like to think we took each of those things to an entirely new level. Really left our mark on them.” Squeezing his buddy’s shoulder, Tucker said, “We sure had some good times together, didn’t we, Moose?”
“The best.”
And they did. Growing up in Heirloom Point with a friend like Tucker Hayes made for an unforgettable upbringing. Nick knew it was a rare and treasured gift to have a friendship like that—one he could pick up right where he left off, as though the years crossed off the calendar were nothing more than a miniscule blip in the landscape of time. They’d kept in touch over the last decade, mostly following one another on various social medias, liking posts where appropriate and texting for birthdays. It was all surface conversation, but there was a satisfying security found in the fact that all of those small correspondences strung together to maintain a friendship.
Nick’s chest tightened with the far off hope that it could be the same with Chrissy, as well, even though their communication had been altogether nonexistent. He knew the odds were against him when it came to that particular Christmas wish.
“Look at this, Moose!” Tucker’s already booming voice lifted in volume. He rushed forward, grabbing a wreath from its hook and shoving it into Nick’s chest. “You have to bid on this! It couldn’t be more perfect.”
“Is it actually a moose?” Nick asked, holding the wreath out in examination. “Looks like it could be a reindeer.”
“No, it’s definitely a moose.”
The sound of the voice at his back made his mouth go dry, his jaw clamp down in tension.
“I still can’t believe you let him call you that for all those years,” she said, coming up alongside him. “Hi, Nick.” Chrissy Davenport beamed her brilliant smile, the one that lit up her face, along with the entire room. “It’s been a long time.”
Chrissy
TIME DID LITTLE to change his appearance. Sure, his features were more masculine now, his jaw squared and shoulders broader. But he still sported that boyish grin, the one that made her knees turn to jelly when she was on the receiving end of it. It was a smile of intention, not merely obligation.
“Scone at ten o’clock,” Everleigh had whispered less than five minutes into the event.
“Don’t you mean biscuit?”
Everleigh slapped her forehead. “Right. Yes. Biscuit. This whole code word thing doesn’t really work if I can’t keep my baked goods straight.”
“I don’t see him.” Chrissy had said, pressing up on her toes to peer above the crowds. She could feel her pulse in her neck and her stomach quivering with nerves, but there was an excitement coursing through her at the possibility of seeing Nick again that she hadn’t anticipated.
“Ten o’clock. Or is it two o’clock. I’m not good with clocks.” Grabbing her sister’s shoulders, Everleigh swiveled Chrissy around. “Over there. See? Next to Tucker Hayes.”
It was a scene right out of their high school days, when Nick and Tucker would lean up against their lockers during the passing periods, appearing both casual and intimidating simultaneously. Chrissy could still recall the day she’d finally mustered enough bravery to march over to Nick to introduce herself. She’d plotted for a full week, even going as far as to recite in front of the mirror to make sure she got it just right—not too forced, not too spontaneous. Simply friendly. Her family had been new to Heirloom Point at the time, her father just starting out on the police force. She knew who Nick McHenry was—everyone did—his athleticism creating not only a buzz about town, but instant popularity at school. But Chrissy was the new girl with no reputation, no real reason to stand out in the teenage crowd.
And just like she’d done on that December day as a freshman, she’d gathered her courage and pressed through the mass of people, making determined strides across the auditorium until she stood directly behind the only man to ever hold—and break—her heart.
Chrissy had never felt that heart beating more strongly than in this new moment; it threatened to burst right out of her chest.
She had joined their conversation uninvited, but when she’d uttered his name, the tender expression on Nick’s face swallowed up all of those years, making it feel like only yesterday in a way that was so inexplicable, it felt almost magical.
“Chrissy.” His caramel-colored eyes met hers, holding her gaze long enough to make her throat go dry. Nick passed the wreath to Tucker, then stuck his hand into the gap between he and Chrissy, offering it for a shake. She couldn’t help but feel it seemed too formal for the long history they shared. Even still, Chrissy reached for his proffered hand, but at the last second Nick tugged her into his arms. “It’s good to see you,” he said close to her ear, his breath startlingly warm on her cheek. “Really good.”
“You too, Nick,” Chrissy replied as she gently eased out of his embrace. His sandy blond hair was tousled the same way he’d styled it in his youth and even though he wore a tan canvas jacket, Chrissy could see that Nick had maintained his muscular, fit build over the years. So much of him was different, but all the best parts remained the same.
“You look good, Chrissy,” Nick iterated the words she had just been thinking.
“You, too,” she reciprocated.
“Doesn’t look like much of a moose anymore, does he?” Tucker hung the wreath back onto its hook and then jostled Nick with an aggressive shoulder bump.
“That was such an unfortunate nickname.” Everleigh frowned. She stepped up to join the conversation. “Who even came up with that awful label?”
“Yours truly.” Extending his arms out on either side to stretch to his full wingspan, Tucker plastered on the proudest of smirks. “Remember that big ol’ nose and those too-big-for-his-head ears?” He bellowed a haughty laugh, making playful fun of his longtime friend. “Nick was total moose status.”
“Oh, right,” Everleigh humored. “Because as I recall, you were so good looking as a gangly teenager.”
“Why else do you think they called me Tuck the Buck? You’ve seen how handsome an actual buck is, right? People literally display their heads above their fireplaces, just so they can stare at them all day. Compare a moose to that—not even remotely the same. Hanging out with Nick back then made me look like an Adonis!”
“Well isn’t it reassuring that some things never change?” Everleigh rolled her eyes and bumped into Tucker’s side as she shoved past. “I’d love to stay and help inflate your already bursting ego, but I have a candy cane wreath to claim.”
“Did you say candy cane?” Tucker perked up like he was a dog being told it was time to go for a walk. “My all-time favorite Christmas treat!”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Everleigh’s grin instantly flipped into a scowl. Her eyes narrowed into intimidating slits. “That wreath is mine!”
“Or mine.” Tucker shrugged. “We shall see who the highest bidder is at the end of the night.” Winking, his mouth pulled up just on one side, scheming evident in his eyes. “Plus, we should leave ChrisMoose to themselves. They’ve got more than a few years to catch up on.”
“I completely forgot about that nickname, too.” Everleigh threw her hands into the ai
r. “Man, you’re full of them. I’m surprised you didn’t have a nickname for me.”
“Oh, he did.” Chrissy stifled a laugh. She caught Nick’s eye and they exchanged a knowing glance, like they could read each other’s thoughts.
“What? What was it?” Prodding, Everleigh’s gaze bounced back and forth between the three friends in front of her. “Someone tell me!”
“Off to bid on some peppermint goodness!” Tuck shouted. He used his best hockey moves to dart through the crowd in an agile attempt to outrace Everleigh, who immediately followed after, hot on his trail.
Looking up at Nick, Chrissy smiled, albeit hesitantly. With her sister security blanket gone, the anxiety she experienced in small doses earlier swept in like a northern wind, disorienting her and making her want to run for cover. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “So, you’re back in Heirloom Point for some time?”
“That’s the plan.” Nick rocked on his heels, his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. Lifting his shoulders in a shrug, he looked like he was about to say more, but the words didn’t follow.
“You and Tucker kept in touch?”
Nick looked over his shoulder, seeking out his friend. “Yeah, a bit. We haven’t seen each other in years, but we’ve communicated on and off.”
Chrissy nodded. She couldn’t tell if it was jealously coursing through her, or something else entirely, because even if Nick had reached out during the last decade, she wasn’t sure she would’ve been ready for it. She wasn’t sure she was ready for it now.
“I bet your parents love having you home.”
“Well, I’m not technically home-home. Remember Mr. Davies?” Chrissy nodded. He often frequented her shop to buy candles for his classroom. “I’m renting his in-law quarters until I can find a more permanent solution.”
“Is that why you’re here? To find a wreath now that you actually have a door?” Looking down at her feet, Chrissy laughed under her breath. “I assumed you were back with your parents and thought how funny it would be if you planned to put a wreath on that bedroom door. You’d have to do some serious rearranging, what with all the posters and bumper stickers you had plastered on it back in the day.”
“Would you believe they’re all still on there? Mom hasn’t changed a thing since I left.”
“That’s actually really comforting”—Chrissy looked up, her gaze colliding with Nick’s—“that some things don’t change.”
“You looking for a wreath for the shop?” He changed the subject and Chrissy wondered if she’d been too forthright, too blunt. She had no idea how to communicate with this new version of the only person she’d ever loved. “I hear you’re the most successful small business owner in town. Mom says you’ve won the Heart of Heirloom Point award three years in a row. Congratulations, Chrissy.”
Chrissy’s cheeks went hot, unsure how to accept the compliment even though she could sense it was a genuine one. “It’s just a silly award the chamber of commerce gives out each year. I think it’s rigged, actually. My dad’s a board member, so that just screams conflict of interest, but what can I say, Heirloom Point is a very supportive town.”
“Don’t I know it,” Nick agreed. “I could always feel the love, even from two-thousand miles away.”
The word love made Chrissy’s breath catch. Scrambling for something to say to redirect, she stumbled over her words like they were caught in a traffic jam in her mouth. “I think…um…do you know how long the bidding lasts?”
“Eight o’clock, I believe. That’s what Miss Sandra told us at registration.”
“I should probably look for something to bid on soon, then. I know it gets pretty competitive during that last half hour. It’s every man for himself.”
Nick chuckled. “Have your eyes on anything in particular?” he asked and she couldn’t tell if he really cared to know the answer, or if he was just making polite small talk. Their conversation had turned that direction.
“Actually, I sort of do this thing where I bid on the ones that don’t have any bids at all at the end of the night. I mean, I always feel bad that some wreaths have these massive bidding wars, while others go completely unnoticed. I usually end up with a few for that reason, but the shop has ample space to display them, so I don’t mind at all.”
“And that right there is why you keep getting the Heart of Heirloom Point award.”
“Because I buy a lot of wreaths?” She laughed. “I guess technically I am pouring back into the community—”
“No, it’s because you have such a heart for this town and all of the people in it. Sort of makes you the heart of it all.”
If Chrissy hadn’t known how to read any of Nick’s earlier compliments, this one felt like it had been spoken in an entirely different language. The translation eluded her. Hooking her thumb over her shoulder, she said, “I should go look around to see what’s left.” Then she paused before adding, “Would you like to come with me?”
“I would, but I’ve left my mom unattended for far too long now. I can’t even imagine all of the trouble she’s likely gotten herself into while unsupervised.” Touching Chrissy’s elbow lightly, he said, “It was really good to see you again, Chrissy.”
“You too, Nick.”
Good was one word to describe it. But there were many others that tangled together in Chrissy’s heart, descriptors for every range of emotion. Backing away, she swiveled on the heel of her boot and scanned the crowd for her sister. Holiday music rang out through the auditorium speakers, the jingle of classic carols filling the community center as the soundtrack of the season. A percussion of chatter created an energetic buzz in sync with the music, and it made it impossible not to feel as though Christmas had already arrived. This tradition was the big kick off to the holiday and everyone knew it, their participation in the Silent Night Silent Auction a heartwarming way to usher in the season.
A momentary panic fell over Chrissy, her unfinished candle scent hanging over her like homework. She knew she couldn’t force it. She’d done that before and even though no one knew, those candles never sold quite as well as the ones she poured all of her heart and soul into, right along with the fragrance and wax.
Nick’s mention of Chrissy’s heart for the community had thrown her. It was a nice thing to say, but given he hadn’t been a part of the community for ten years, he had little authority in saying it.
The further removed from Nick’s proximity and their conversation, the less Chrissy felt held under his spell. Seeing Nick had done something to Chrissy and she instantly reverted back to that doe-eyed school girl. The questions she’d wanted to ask—the ones she’d played over and over like a track on repeat—flitted right out of her head. She didn’t think he had tried to charm her intentionally, it just happened. It always just happened with Nick McHenry.
“Everleigh!” Chrissy blurted as soon as she caught sight of her sister across the room. There, staking her claim next to a candy cane gilded wreath, was Everleigh, pen in her white-knuckled grip.
“Hey, sis.” She offered half of her attention to Chrissy while the other half scanned the room, keeping a watchful eye out for anyone who might come between her and the coveted peppermint wreath. “Sorry I kinda left you there, but”—she waved a hand over the wreath—“priorities, right? How’d it go with Nick?”
“It was fine.” Chrissy hesitated. “I think.”
Stepping forward with her pen readied, Everleigh lingered while a middle-aged woman walked up to the table and jotted her bid and number onto a blank line. Once the woman angled to walk away, Everleigh scribbled something onto the sheet underneath her bid, a massive grin on her face, like she’d just pulled a fast one. “Just fine? Not monumental? Life changing? Destiny altering?”
“No, definitely none of those things. I don’t know. It was comfortable. Like an old sweater, you know? Familiar and cozy.”
“Um, no, I don’t know. Nick McHenry is no old sweater, Chris. Did you see him? He looks fantastic.”
&n
bsp; Chrissy wasn’t about to admit out loud that she absolutely agreed. “It just felt a little too comfortable, though, you know? Like we could so easily slip right back into the way things were without even talking about what happened.”
“Do I sense the revival of ChrisMoose on the horizon?”
“That was the cheesiest relationship name ever.”
“Well, of course it was. Tucker made it up. What would you expect?”
“Speaking of, where is he?”
Everleigh shrugged nonchalantly. “I figure he’s gone into stealth mode. Probably off somewhere spying on me and this wreath, just waiting to swoop in at the last second and steal all of my candy cane dreams.”
“I think he’d like to swoop in and steal a little more than that from you, Ev.”
Her sister’s face went blank. “What are you talking about?”
“Seriously? You can’t be that clueless.”
Everleigh’s expression remained void of any comprehension, the ultimate deer caught in the disorienting headlight glow.
“He always had the biggest crush on you, sis. Called you Meant For Me Everleigh. You’re telling me you had no idea? I thought everyone knew; it was pretty obvious.”
“Um, no, I certainly did not know. I mean, the guy does think awful highly of himself now, but I totally would’ve dated him in my younger years had he just asked me out.” Grinning coyly, she said, “Dated him, maybe, but let him steal this incredible, edible wreath from me? Not a chance!”
Everleigh switched back into alert mode, her only mission to secure ownership of the candied wreath at her side. Even though she wanted to talk more about her encounter with Nick, Chrissy knew she’d have to wait until later to have her sister’s ear. Everleigh was like a cat, not one with the gift of multi-tasking.
An Heirloom Christmas Page 4
