The illusion of a perfect Christmas. Christmases are messy and rushed and chaotic. Cookies are made with love and flour fights, and iced with unsteady hands. Rudolph always looks like he’s had a few too many sherries and snowmen look like they’ve been on the business end of a rugby scrum. There are mismatched decorations everywhere, a tree dropping needles and slurping water at a fast enough pace to ensure a daily panic about dehydration. But everything in their house is picture-perfect, and everywhere I look, I can imagine James at Christmas, the lonely little boy who grew up wanting more than material things and resenting the festive season itself for always bringing disappointment.
Judy must clock the look on my face because she says, ‘I hope you will always find time to bake with your children.’
The idea of children makes me choke on the cookie. Either that or I’ve eaten so many mince pies lately that I look like I’m expecting triplets.
‘Well, now you’re stepping down from the business, maybe you’ll have time to,’ Raymond says.
‘I could get on board with that,’ James adds. ‘It’s never too late, and I’m beyond a lost cause in the kitchen.’
‘You could run classes at the lane,’ I say. ‘Kids love baking and decorating cookies. Parents could leave them and go off shopping for half an hour while you run a cookie decorating class. The more options we can offer, the better.’
Raymond smiles at me. ‘James said you were good, but wow. You’ve got a head for this stuff.’
I blush. ‘We could make them nutcracker-themed. Decorate your own nutcracker cookie.’
‘I love it,’ Judy says. ‘I’d like to do that. Even though I’m stepping down, I’d like to still be involved in some way. And I’ll need something to occupy my time.’
‘The other shopkeepers talk about you two with such fondness. They’d be overjoyed to see you there again,’ I say. ‘Cookie decorating classes could be just the beginning. You could give talks or take people on tours of the factory. I mean, who knows more about the history of Nutcracker Lane than one of the people who founded it?’
The unspoken certainty that Raymond won’t be here for long hangs in the air between us. It feels terrible and wrong to be making plans that won’t involve him, and yet, I can see the tension in his shoulders easing as we speak.
He must catch me watching because he meets my eyes and gives me a small nod. Maybe knowing that Judy won’t be alone and will have something to keep going for is all he needs at the moment. ‘All we’ve ever wanted for Nutcracker Lane is someone who will love it as much as us, and will do everything in their power to ensure it’s still standing in another forty years’ time.’
‘And I think that’s you two,’ Judy adds. ‘I don’t know how James managed to find you, Nia, but if I didn’t believe in the magic of Nutcracker Lane before, I do now.’
‘You will come for Christmas dinner tomorrow, won’t you?’ The words are out of my mouth before I realise I’m going to say them.
I feel James stiffen beside me.
‘Is the invite still on?’ His mum looks between him and me. Maybe he has told her something after all.
I nod. ‘I’d be honoured to have you. I’ve always thought Nutcracker Lane was like a little family, and Christmas is always better with family.’
***
‘I didn’t think you’d still want us to come,’ James says. I can hear the sigh of relief at finally getting the words out.
We’re outside in his parents’ garage, looking through boxes of nutcrackers, and he’s clearly been itching to say something since the moment we were alone. Raymond and Judy are still indoors, and the flickering light in the garage is illuminating aged pallet-wood boxes, containing nutcracker treasures from years gone by.
I think about it for a long minute. ‘I meant what I said. You’ve helped me with so much Christmas stuff, it wouldn’t be right to not spend Christmas with you.’
‘Even though you hate my guts and would like to feed me to some cannibalistic reindeer?’
I burst out laughing.
‘I’m sorry, Nia. I know they’re just words, and I know you can’t trust me—’
‘It’s okay.’ I cut him off, my fingers running over a handwritten “1975” on the front of a box. ‘Meeting them, seeing where you grew up, how you spent Christmases … I get it. I understand why you hate Christmas. And why you resented Nutcracker Lane, and how much your family is going through, and I do realise you came there to try to set things right this year.’
I slide the lid off the box and pull out an old-fashioned nutcracker wearing a red coat and yellow trousers with the year stamped on its base. ‘They don’t know the extent of your injuries, do they?’
‘I didn’t want to worry them. They’ve got enough to deal with. Believe me, if I could’ve hidden the broken arm too, I would have.’
There’s something about him hiding his injuries and dealing with so much on his own that makes me want to hug him, but it’s also made things start to make sense. ‘You’ve been hiding the extent of the finance problems and trying to deal with it yourself and save them the worry too, right?’ I think back on the things he’s said over the weeks. ‘Burying your head in the sand, slashing the budget, hoping that one day you’d slash it enough to make a dent in the deficit? Not turning to anyone for help, thinking you can’t trust people and can only rely on yourself …’
His teeth chew on his lip as he ducks his head. ‘That changed when I met you, Nee. Within a day, I’d been more open with you than I had with anyone else in my life. Apart from this one stupid lie …’
I suddenly don’t care who he is, or was, or who he said he was or wasn’t. There are some things that no one can lie about, like that softness in his eyes, his gentle smile, and the surprise on his face whenever he said too much and let me in more than he meant to. There was nothing dishonest about that. Those heavy-lidded eyes and slow, sleepy smile. He wasn’t hiding anything in those moments. I think for the first time in a long while, he was letting someone see the real him.
He’s changed me too. Until him, I thought I was doing well on my own. I convinced myself I was a strong, independent woman and I was happy being alone, and that I was smart to always keep men at a safe distance and never let anyone in or share any part of myself with someone.
Without even trying, he changed that. Somewhere in the middle of trying to make him believe in Christmas, he made me believe in love again. He made me want love again. He made me let my guard down and trust someone again, and it felt better than I expected. I always thought I’d feel weak and vulnerable if I let someone in again, but with James, I felt empowered. Being with him made me feel like anything was possible.
And even though he wasn’t exactly honest, he made me trust someone again, and somehow I still trust him, and the thought of this ending because I’m too stubborn to forgive him makes my heart race and my palms sweat, and suddenly nothing matters but the way I feel when I’m with him.
‘I’m sorry for lying to you,’ he says before I have a chance to say anything else. ‘You have to realise it was never meant to go as far as it did.’
‘It’s okay.’ I jump in before he can continue. ‘I know why you couldn’t tell us. I also know you’ve been more honest with me than you probably intended to be, and I get it. I think you started the job there thinking that the only way to keep Nutcracker Lane going was to reduce the budget for it, but actually seeing it was the best thing you could’ve done because now you get it.’
‘You think I’m officially un-Grinched?’
I nod, my smile so wide that my jaw is starting to protest.
We reach out at the same time, and the moment our hands touch, a flood of emotions releases inside of me and I let out a breath as relief crashes through my body, and I can’t hold back anymore. The spell of slow awkwardness is broken and I throw my arms around him as carefully as I can, given how desperately I need to touch him. My arms go round his shoulders, tangling in his hair and pulling him down, making
him laugh as I hold his head and smother his face in kisses.
I don’t even realise I’m crying until he pulls me in against him, almost certainly tight enough to be uncomfortable, his good hand curling into my hair and holding me close, his mouth against my ear. I lose track of time as we stand there for endless minutes. I feel his shoulders relax as unseen tension drains from them and I manage to stop myself from crying for long enough to get my breathing back to normal, because everything feels right with the world again. Like it has since the moment I met him.
He pulls back and slides a hand down my face, tilting my head until he can touch his lips to mine in the softest, gentlest, most loving kiss I’ve ever felt. I pull him impossibly tighter and get lost in kissing him, letting it sweep away everything but this moment.
Nothing matters but the two of us, right here and now. I can even ignore the eyes of the multiple nutcrackers watching us from the shelves of his parents’ garage, given the way his fingers curl into my hip and how his hair feels in my hands, the feel of his skin against mine and the freedom of knowing that it’s all out there now. There are no secrets between us, warring with the excitement of knowing this is the start of something special. Everything about kissing him feels different than it has before.
Hands move and arms tighten and it’s all I can do to stay on my feet. I’ve never known a kiss that’s so desperate with desire and so careful and loving too. I run my fingers down from his shoulder to the top of the cast and back up again. He doesn’t hide the shiver and I push myself up on tiptoes and kiss his stubbled jaw.
‘Did you really think I was the nutcracker come to life?’
‘No.’ I huff and my cheeks burn. I’m so glad he overheard that conversation with Stacey this morning; I was hoping he hadn’t. ‘Maybe. For, like, one moment.’
He laughs and I pull away but his arm tightens around my back, holding me close. I duck my head against his shoulder and hide my burning red face in his chest. ‘It was gone and you were on the floor where it fell. It’s the same arm, James! All you said at first was about getting “knocked over”! I’d made a wish for a nutcracker prince! You know the story of the broken nutcracker turning into a prince as well as I do! The coincidences added up.’
He moves his shoulder to get me to lift my head, and I look up into his wide brown eyes.
‘Do you know something? I never want to live my life without someone whose obvious train of thought is not something normal like I’d picked up the nutcracker and got down to collect up the debris but that he’d come to life and turned into me. Never change, Nia.’ He kisses me. ‘You make me believe in magic.’
He makes me believe in a lot of things I didn’t think I believed in too as his lips touch mine again and the kiss sweeps everything else away.
‘You have no idea how tightly I want to hold you, how much I want to pick you up and spin you around, and I can’t because of the injuries, but—’
I shut him up by planting another kiss on his mouth. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for that. Plenty of time for everything.’
‘Plenty of time for making wishes come true?’
‘Exactly. There’s something magical about Nutcracker Lane. Now it’s up to us to share it.’ My heart swells so much that I feel like the moment in The Nutcracker ballet when the tree begins to grow. It feels like the start of something that’s going to change Christmas forever.
Epilogue
‘You owe me four hundred pounds!’
‘You’re the dog, I’m the iron … aren’t I?’
‘Oh no, don’t tell me that’s a hotel?’
‘Do not pass Go! Don’t you dare take that two hundred pounds!’
Somehow, with our combined total of three arms, James and I managed to make dinner, so far no one’s noticeably gone down with food poisoning, and now the whole lot of us are sitting on my living-room floor. My mum, two cousins, my brother and his girlfriend, James and his mum and dad, surrounded by piles of presents, tubs of chocolates, crackers and paper hats.
It’s the biggest family Christmas I’ve had for years. It’s been chaotic and fun and so lovely to catch up with cousins I haven’t seen for years, meet my brother’s girlfriend, and see Mum relax for a change. Even Stacey, Simon, and Lily turned up this afternoon with presents and more chocolates.
I wanted James’s present to be something special and was thrilled when I managed to track down a vintage game of Monopoly from the Eighties with the red and white striped box, exactly as he described when he mentioned his favourite childhood gift, and it was worth everything for the look on his face when he opened it this morning.
There are still balled-up shreds of wrapping paper strewn throughout the room, a minty candle melting in the candle warmer, and tree lights twinkling while the fire crackles. There’s only eight tokens so James and I are squashed together like some sort of hybrid three-armed player. I’ve got my arm wrapped through his and my head on his shoulder, and every time he looks at me, his eyes are shining with happiness and he’s got that cheeky smile that makes my heart flutter and he squeezes minutely closer, and the fact we’re in polite company only serves to build the anticipation of kissing him later.
He’s wearing Grinch lounge pants and green-and-blue striped fluffy socks and his first really Christmassy Christmas jumper with “Noel” written in a wreath of silver stars, along with the perfect shade of navy party hat from a Christmas cracker. My hat is green and I’ve got it on over the top of a Santa hat because it doesn’t matter how daft you look at Christmas, and I’m wearing my baby-blue kissing penguins jumper and three pairs of fluffy socks – all the ones I’ve unwrapped this morning.
We’ve all got mugs of hot chocolate each, despite the fact everyone is still uncomfortably full from the Christmas dinner, and everyone keeps delving into the Quality Street tin despite protesting that they couldn’t eat another thing – exactly what Christmas is all about, and I can’t think of any better way to spend it, or any people I’d rather spend it with.
***
The cousins left early, Mum and my brother and his girlfriend have walked back to Mum’s house, and James has run his parents home while I clean up and make a start on the pile of washing up that’s so huge, I expect mountaineers and explorers to be along any minute and stick a flag in the top of it.
I get halfway through it before I hear his car pull up outside, and a couple of minutes later he comes in and kisses me so passionately that I nearly drop the plate in my hand. ‘You have no idea how badly I’ve needed to do that all day.’
‘Oh, I do.’ It’s my turn to kiss him. ‘I really do.’
The washing up is forgotten as I lose myself in him until he takes the plate away from me and starts drying up, always the perfect gentleman.
In the living room, Christmas music is still playing quietly as I pull a bin bag around and fill it with discarded wrapping paper and polystyrene packing from presents. “Little Drummer Boy”, the song that always reminds me of nutcrackers, comes on and James goes over to turn the light off. He comes back, takes my hand and pulls me against him, holding on tight as he starts gently dancing us around the room.
‘We seem to have done this before.’
‘We can stop if you want,’ he murmurs against my hair, sounding like Santa popping down the chimney to say he’s misplaced a reindeer is more likely. My hands curl into his shoulders hard enough to leave him in no doubt that I’m not on board with that idea.
It’s a perfect Christmas evening. The room smells of peppermint and woodsmoke from the fire, and now everyone’s gone home, there’s something about it just being the two of us and an evening of relaxing and eating sandwiches made of leftovers for supper later. The lights on the tree twinkle and flash, and the six-foot nutcracker with the mended arm that he gave me for Christmas stands silently in the corner, watching over us.
‘I wanted to say thank you.’ James moves his head until he can whisper in my ear. ‘Thank you for making me “get” Christmas. Today was incred
ible. I already know that’s one of the best memories I’m ever going to have of my dad.’
‘He looked well.’
‘He looked happy. For the first time in years, he and my mum know that their beloved business is going to be okay because of you.’
‘Because of both of us. All of us. Everyone who’s got involved in restoring Nutcracker Lane to its former glory. Because none of it would’ve happened without you.’
‘I guess we make a perfect team.’ He leans down and presses his lips against my cheek. ‘I just wanted you know this was my best Christmas ever.’
‘Good. Just so long as you know that neither of us are getting up off that sofa for the next few days unless there’s a national emergency.’
‘I am absolutely okay with that.’ He wraps both arms around me and I reach up and cover the fingers of his broken one and let myself relax in his embrace.
I know there will be challenges ahead. We both know it’s not going to be an easy year, but some people are like magic personified and make you feel like you can face anything with them beside you. And who knows, when the wind whispers just right and the stars twinkle on a Christmas night, maybe wishes can come true after all.
***
Swept away by Nia’s romance in The Little Christmas Shop on Nutcracker Lane? Don’t miss The Little Bookshop of Love Stories, another heart-warming love story from Jaimie Admans. Available now!
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Acknowledgements
Mum, thank you for putting up with the giant 6ft nutcracker in your living room for the past year! Unfortunately he didn’t turn into a handsome prince on Christmas Eve! Thank you for always being there for me, for the constant patience, support, encouragement, and for always believing in me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Love you lots!
The Little Christmas Shop on Nutcracker Lane: The perfect cosy and uplifting Christmas romance to curl up with! Page 32
