'Tis the Season for Love: A Charity Box Set

by Maggie Dallen

  Okay, so I needed to let go of the crabby pants attitude. I smiled back. Feeling right sounded appealing. Derek had his work cut out for him.

  Moving past the entryway, I stopped cold. “Whoa.” The tree, laying on its side across the formal front living room, took up all the walking space in the room. Branches crushed against the edge of the couch. Two chairs were moved to the side and a coffee table into the hall.

  No wonder the thing knocked me off the road.

  “It’s…big.” Mom kept her voice light. “Maybe a touch smaller would have been plenty.”

  Stu strolled in. “Diane, it’s perfect.” He moved to Mom’s side and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek. “Glad to have you for the holiday, Megan. I imagine you’re hungry.”

  Weirdly enough, I was starving and hadn’t noticed. I typically lived on an eating-every-two-hours schedule. I was a girl who liked her snacks.

  I handed him the tree stand and followed Mom to the kitchen, edging around the tree and keeping a bit of distance from the wild I’d brought into their home. Yikes.

  Mom reheated a roasted vegetable casserole, which I ate with gusto. I missed this. My own cooking was a mix of take-out and recipes off Pinterest I used too many substitutions in to taste right.

  After eating, Mom and I took on the task of decorating. Familiar boxes sat stacked on the living room floor now that the tree stood upright. Gentle piano music of a holiday classic drifted from speakers I couldn’t see.

  Mom slid a box with a bright pink lid toward me. “Look. Your childhood ornaments.” A faded Megan written in permanent marker ran across the side.

  I unclipped the plastic lid. A Where’s Waldo figurine faced up with a Santa hat. Waldo’s top lip showed an added black mustache.

  Dad put that ’stache on Waldo. He’d said it would help his hiding tactics. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and gave Waldo a prime spot on the front of the tree.

  We fished through the boxes, hanging every ornament. Our family legacy covered half the tree.

  “Space them out, dear.” Mom climbed the small three-step ladder Stu brought out and attempted to fill the top branches.

  I stood back, taking in the view of the tree. What a weird tradition, decorating a live tree indoors with trinkets. Did anyone ever stop and think about this rationally?

  Stu sipped coffee out of a Green Bay Packers mug. “Needs more lights.”

  “Maybe a few billion more.”

  He laughed. I laughed. Mom beamed at us.

  “I bet we could find a good deal on some plain ornament bulbs.” I rounded the tree, checking the branches facing the window. “Do you have a Target around here?” I could let Nick know if I found anything he could use for the mayor’s house. Shoot. I didn’t have his number. Maybe I could get the bulbs for him and—no. What was I thinking? Nick made it clear when he dropped me off he wasn’t interested in, well, me.

  Okay, maybe not clear. He hadn’t been interested in driving to the rest of the shops on the list even though I’d offered. I stared at the portion of forest in Stu’s front room. I’d taken Nick’s charity tree. Of course he wanted to get away from me.

  Mom wound a stray ribbon around her finger. “Stu and I were talking. We should look at buying you new tires. They’re nearly bald.”

  My spine stiffened. “My car is fine.”

  “Honey, you’re out there on your own. I worry.”

  “I told you I’d be okay and I am.”

  The ribbon uncoiled and she stuffed it in an empty ornament box. “Does the El train near you reach the university?”

  “What?” Too late I realized my mistaking in asking.

  “I was thinking—”

  “Mom, don’t—”

  “Stu and I could help get you back on track with your classes—”

  “I don’t need—”

  “So you can graduate.”

  And there it was. My failure stated out loud, ready to ruin Christmas one more way.

  I collected my thoughts. Well, one of them, at least. “I don’t need anything. Anything.” My sharp tone sliced the air like an ice pick.

  Great start at a happy holiday, Megan.

  Nick

  Christmas had to be the worst holiday ever. Too bad, because I used to like it back when I didn’t have to decorate a mansion.

  “Are you coming today?” my buddy Austin asked over the Bluetooth in my truck. “We’re heading out with the snowmobiles at eleven.”

  I winced, glancing at the clock on the dash. I’d risen bright and early hitting the rest of the shops on my list. The shops I should have contacted weeks ago but the list got lost in the shuffle. Mom never seemed to have an issue running the town and planning a holiday party. She had plenty to shuffle.

  “You still have that mayor thing going for your mom?” Austin asked as I parked behind the mayor’s mansion.

  “Yup. Tomorrow night. You’re coming, right?”

  “I guess I could come. See what kind of party planner you are.”

  “Not a good one.”

  He laughed. “I could’ve told you that.”

  For some reason, it stung. “Gotta go. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

  I looked over the list again, shuddering at the memory of my encounters. The home decorating place listed as number two laughed in my face. Number three gave me a polite decline and wished me well. Number four, another florist with a gift shop, offered a discount on some holiday wares. Short on time, I took them up on it and left with strands of lights, a skinny wooden Santa thing, and some tinsel.

  I was screwed.

  I entered the mansion through the side entrance near the kitchen. Jill, who worked for the city and mayor’s office, rushed toward me.

  “Nick. We’ve been looking for you. I didn’t want to bother your mother.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t. What do you need?”

  Jill had flushed peach skin and sprayed-up blond hair that both made her look younger and older. She had on a gold sweater with snowflakes knit into it. “I know we’re doing things differently this year, but when will the decorating team arrive? I’d like to update my schedule.”

  She was looking at the decorating team. “I have a few things here.” I showed her the bag. The tree I bought yesterday was already set up in the ballroom with white lights. No ornaments. “We’re going for a scaled-back theme this year.” I parroted what Megan told the florist at Vilmer’s and hoped for the best.

  “Hmm.” Jill squinted at the tree before taking the bag. She scuffled through it then looked back at me. Her smile was the kind teachers gave to little kids. The one people too polite to say what they really thought gave to cover what they wouldn’t say out loud. “Nick. You’ve been a great support to your family. How about I take it from here?”

  Jill had me pegged. No theme, no team. Only today and half the day tomorrow to get this shindig rolling, and our wheels were frozen to the ground.

  I couldn’t give up this easily. “What can I do? I’m good at fetching. If you give me a list, I’ll do the work.”

  Jill gave me her best Kindergarten Teacher. “I’m sure you will. I’ll be right back.”

  I hit Austin’s contact info in my phone. If the guys could hold off a few hours, I could join them. Or meet up later.

  My phone buzzed in my hand. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”

  “Just checking in. Did Jill talk to you?”

  She knew. She knew I’d failed my one promise to her. I sighed. “I’m playing gofer to pick up whatever she needs.” Which was what I should have been doing in the first place if I hadn’t promised Mom the moon wrapped as a charity benefit.

  “Good. She’s a pro. I wish I could do more.”

  “Mom, no. Rest up. All you need to do is show up tomorrow. That’s it.”

  “You’re too good to me, Nicolas. I couldn’t have asked for a more reliable, wonderful son.”

  I laughed. “Those meds are something else.”

  “Oh, stop, I’m serious. Y
ou’ve always been there for the family. It means a lot. I want you to know I’m thankful. I’m not sure what I’d do without you here.”

  I turned my back to Jill, though she’d wandered to another room. My throat jammed up. “I’m thankful, too.”

  She ended the call. I looked out the window across the sloping front lawn. The courthouse, the town square park and shops all in view. The bank marked the end of downtown, where the road returned to two lanes and pointed toward another town six miles out. The whole town in one glance. My own life plotted on the familiar points of the map. Same as always.

  How was I supposed to leave? This town or my parents? Crystal Cove was home. I should be happy here. I hadn’t ever wanted to leave before. Coming back after college—a choice I made myself. I hadn’t gone far to begin with. But now…

  Now, I’d lived here a few years on my own. The town and all its opportunities shrank to a grid I’d memorized and replayed daily. I couldn’t go anywhere without a conversation about my family.

  “Nick?” Jill handed me a list. “Crystal Gifts in town is expecting you. They have decor we’ll use for the tree. They’ll bring floral arrangements this afternoon.”

  I took the homework gladly. No room to feel sorry for myself since the clock counted down. I needed to finish this job and not run off while Jill fixed my mess. My day went from snowmobile to no-mobile.

  The snow had stopped falling yesterday, but the cold air guaranteed the white stuff would stick around. I grabbed a knit hat and gloves from my truck. The driveway angled from the mansion onto Main Street, making for an easy walk.

  A huddle of middle school-aged girls sipped warm drinks with white plastic lids outside Main Street Sweets. Mariah Carey’s voice bounced between the shops and cars announcing what she wanted for Christmas. That song always got stuck in my head.

  I entered Crystal Gifts headed straight to the sales counter. Or tried to. The place was packed. Shoppers bundled in winter gear stood in every aisle and crowded around glass displays. This was the kind of store a guy like me had to watch out in or I’d knock an expensive vase into an even more expensive vase.

  “These are perfect, Mom. Look.”

  The voice caught me by the collar. I looked over my shoulder. Hoping, I had to admit.

  Dark curls spilled from a familiar hat with a puff ball. Megan.

  “Are there enough?” a woman asked, her back turned toward me.

  Just then, Megan looked up and our eyes met. Her face brightened, then fell and ended up somewhere in the middle. “Hi, Nick.”

  The woman beside her swung around. “Nick Bennington. So good to see you again.” Her voice carried, causing several people to gawk.

  “Good to see you too, Mrs…” Had she taken Stu’s last name? Didn’t want to assume.

  “Mrs. Krueger,” she filled in. “But call me Diane.”

  Megan gave her mom a strange look, but quickly ditched it to smile tentatively at me. “How is the decorating going?”

  “Oh, uh, good.” I ripped my hat off, feeling hot all the sudden. “Jill from the mayor’s office is handling things. I’m playing fetch.” I waved Jill’s list in front of me. “I got rescued is what I’m saying. So, problem solved.”

  “Oh.” Megan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Well, that’s good, I suppose.” She held a clear plastic box of round silver ball ornaments. “We’re looking for more ornaments. Fifty percent off.”

  “You have a lot of tree to fill.”

  Megan’s cheeks colored. I couldn’t help but grin. She knew that tree was too big for the house. She knew but her pride—or something else—kept her from admitting it.

  “Stu got the tree upright, so that’s a small victory.” Diane turned to her daughter. “Let me take these to the register. The line is getting long.”

  Which left me with Megan. Not exactly alone, but I didn’t care to check on anybody else. “Thanks again for—”

  “You gave up?” She closed the gap between us, her voice hushed and accusatory.

  “What do you mean?” I stepped back from her advance, a stupid move that pushed my back against a display where glass trinkets tittered and clinked. I jerked forward, joining her space. She smelled like vanilla and Christmas.

  “Let me see this list.” She snatched the paper from my hand and scanned it. “Why is this Jill person giving you chores?”

  “This Jill person has twenty years’ experience.”

  Megan scowled, turning her brow down in a way that only made her more appealing to me. “Seems like with all that experience the benefit would be planned by now.”

  “She didn’t step in earlier because I insisted on planning the mayor’s part myself.” And look what happened.

  “My mom pointed out the mayor’s mansion. It looks beautiful.”

  You look beautiful. I almost said it. Out loud. From my own dumb mouth. “The outside is great.”

  “And inside?”

  Her question came out soft, curious. I was curious too. I wanted to see what Megan was like away from Crystal Cove. If we’d met some other way, not arguing about Christmas trees and my bad planning skills, things might be different.

  “Nick?”

  I blinked. “Yeah?”

  “You look like you’re having heat stroke. Maybe step outside for a sec.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck where sweat decided to hold a recruitment rally. I peeled off my coat, sending my elbow into the glass case behind me. “Crap.”

  Megan stretched past me and stopped an angel figurine from skydiving to her death. “I think you’re giving up too soon. Look, here.” She chose another box of the silver ornaments and shoved it into my hands. “A few of these with white lights on the tree? So pretty. Understated.”

  “I tried the scaled-back line on Jill. She didn’t buy it.”

  Skeptical Megan was skeptical. “Jill isn’t the mayor’s son.”

  I laughed out loud at that one. “No, I suppose she’s not.”

  The song overhead switched to a classic tune and I found myself humming along.

  “Ha!” Megan clapped once and pointed at me. “You do like Christmas.”

  “Because I’m humming? I’m only human.”

  “Are you, though? I sensed you were The Holiday Whisperer. Prove me wrong.”

  “Even if I could whisper the holidays”—what did that even mean?—“my party planning days are over.”

  Megan seemed to chew over my comment when her mom returned.

  “Honey, I just remembered I want to stop by the bank and the dry cleaners. Should I meet you back here in an hour?”

  “Meet me, why? I’ll go with you.”

  Diane gave me a sidelong glance. Ah. Diane Krueger, Matchmaker.

  Megan realized it the same second. “Mom.”

  “I’m sure you’d rather spend time with someone your age after hanging out with Stu and me last night. Go on for now. Enjoy your day.”

  I carefully moved my gaze to Megan. Her eyes shone bright, cheeks pink enough to match her lip gloss. “I could use help bringing the decorations to the mansion.”

  We both knew that wasn’t true. I didn’t care.

  “Visiting the mayor’s mansion,” Diane repeated. “That sounds fun.”

  Megan visibly took a breath. Looking at her mom and translating whatever she was reading on her expression, Megan smiled back at me. “Sure. That sounds nice.”

  I’d take nice if it meant spending time with her again. As much as I didn’t deserve it, no way would I walk away.

  Chapter 8

  Megan

  The gift shop line now stretched halfway through the store.

  Nick looked at me. “Let’s give the staff a chance for the crowds to ease up before I bug them about the supplies. Interested in coffee?”

  When wasn’t I?

  Nick and I ended up at Main Street Sweets two doors down. Adorable gingerbread creations danced in the window and glittering paper snowflakes twirled from strings. Inside, the scent of pure sugar mixed w
ith rich coffee roast sent comforting vibes through me. Beside me, Nick’s solid presence and his festive plaid scarf added another layer of vibes.

  He caught me looking at him and my cheeks heated. I made a show of peeling off my coat now that we were inside. “Warm. In here. It’s…warm.”

  Nick only grinned.

  I ordered a flat white, my current favorite drink, curious how the shop would handle the balance of espresso and steamed milk.

  “I’ll have a coffee, black,” Nick added over my shoulder while swiftly handing over a plastic card.

  “Hey. I can get my own drink.” Getting coffee didn’t mean this classified as a date. No matter what my mom thought.

  “Not in my town.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Here we go again with the Nick Bennington Display of Ego.”

  “It’s egotistical to buy someone their coffee drink?” He pretended to look offended. “For someone who works at a cafe, I figured your order would have twelve parts.”

  “Sometimes simple is best,” I offered, and sauntered over to the baked treats section. I picked out a bear claw with flaking pastry, and several cookies. After paying, I found a table by the window. I unwrapped my bear claw and bit into it. My eyelids involuntarily closed. So. Good. Amazingly good.

  Nick found the table and sat across from me, setting down the drinks. I slid two cookies from the bag, a macaron and a shortbread, placing them on a napkin in the middle of the table.

  “Ooh, these are awesome.” Nick stuffed the macaron into his mouth.

  “Macarons are more of a cookie you bite into.” I stared as he munched the whole thing.

  Now he was nodding with an expression that appeared to be deep contemplation about what he was tasting. He took a swig of coffee. “Man, is that good. Coffee and a cookie. Can’t beat it.”

  The strangest, warm sensation floated over me. I couldn’t nail it. Maybe the holiday spirit finally catching on? I attempted to simultaneously shrug the feeling aside and settle into it. “So, I was thinking. You still have ways you can make the benefit special. I know what it’s like to want to do right by your family. When you have something to make up for.”