Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
NICHOLAS: NOW
I walked into my friend Dan’s exam room. He was now working at the hospital in Mistletoe Town. He was a doctor on his residency and recently moved there with his wife and their new baby. They wanted to build their life there like most new families did. I built a deck for the hospital he used to work at during his medical school time a few years back, and we’d been friends ever since.
He knew I grew up there and the history with my family. It took him a minute to believe I was the grandson of such a prestigious legacy, and I didn’t blame him. I tried to stay out of any press since I understood who we were. I wanted to live my own life, and I didn’t want people from all over the world to know who I was before they even met me.
I wasn’t a fan of being the center of attention. I was the kind of guy who stood in the back and observed the crowd, and once I felt comfortable, I’d loosen up. Maybe it was the Leo in me, always in control. Dan was also aware of my inherited holiday and how I felt about it. He was a good friend, and I never thought I’d be seeking his advice in this town of all places.
At that point, I had to talk to someone, and I figured he’d be the one who would understand me the best—being a neutral party and all.
“Look at you,” I greeted. “You’re all dressed up in your doctor clothes.”
“They’re my scrubs, you dick.” He didn’t beat around the bush. “How did it go with the best friend?”
“Not good.”
“That memorable, huh?”
“You could say that.”
“You going to see her again?”
“Yeah,” I replied, quickly adding, “she’s the town baker.”
“Oh, shit…” His eyes widened. “Huh, how did I not put two and two together until now? Damn. She makes the best chocolate chip cookies. Did you know that? Have you eaten her cookies?”
“Trust me, I wish I could tell you I’ve eaten that cookie.”
“Damn.”
“Let me rephrase; as a teenager, it wasn’t like that with us. I mean, of course, I always found her attractive and we got along great, but that doesn’t make for a relationship, you know?”
“Actually,” he exclaimed. “I don’t know because to me, that’s exactly what starts a relationship.”
“No, that’s a friendship.”
“I think you are wrong, but you were saying…”
“As a man, our friendship and connection are still there, but what’s changed is my desire to eat her cookies.”
“I see…”
“I’ve never felt such a physical reaction to a woman before. It’s surreal, and I honestly don’t know how the hell to deal with it, let alone where we go from here.”
“Now I know you’re messing with me. You never had sex? ”
I shook my head.
“What?”
“What part of that did you not understand?”
“The whole thing.” He stood there with a stunned expression. “What do you mean you never had sex?”
“We never had sex,” I repeated.
“Why not?”
“I just told you it wasn’t like that.”
“For you?”
“For both of us.”
“Because of you?”
“What are you getting at?”
He leaned against the exam table, folding his arms over his chest. “You have commitment issues.”
I jerked back, never expecting his response. “That’s not true.”
“How do you figure it’s not? Why else would you run away from paradise? This town is amazing. You were set up to thrive without even having to prove yourself.”
“Maybe to have my own life,” I reasoned, needing someone to understand why I had to leave. “Maybe so that I wouldn’t live in a place where buildings are named after my entire family, and everyone kisses my ass for it.”
“Yeah,” he snapped. “Look at what good that did you? Now you own it.”
“No shit, and the only thing I got for it this morning was a knee to my balls.”
“Wait, what?”
“Noelle.”
“She kneed you in the balls?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you do?”
“I pulled her toward me.”
“Wow.” He smiled. “She’s violent. I like it.”
“No.” I chuckled. “It was an accident. ”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “So she says…”
“Let’s just say it didn’t go according to plan or how I imagined it would.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Here I thought you’d be the one who would understand.”
“Me? Why me?”
“I don’t know. You’re married and have a kid.”
“And that makes me mature enough to understand women? Especially your relationship with your ex-best friend who you’re still obviously madly in love with?”
I didn’t just jerk back, I stumbled. “I’m not in love with her. I mean, I do love her, like her, I’m just…”
He beamed. “In love with her.”
“Fuck you, man. I like her.”
“You like a lot of things.”
“No, I mean— I really like her. I like her so much that I can’t imagine my life without her again.”
“Hell has officially frozen over!” He put his hand up to his ear. “Excuse me? I’m sorry. What was that? Can you say that one more time? I don’t think I heard you the first time.”
“You heard me, dickwad.”
“Oh, come on, this is a monumental moment. A universal standstill. The Grinch is flying all around us. Now admit that you’re in love with her and secretly love Santa, and we’ll call it a day.”
“I came here for advice, and this is what I get from you?”
“You’re right. We should take you to the ER instead. You need a radiologist to x-ray your head on the fact that you’re pussy-whipped, and you haven’t even seen hers yet.”
“Fuck you again.”
“You like her? Like, you want to date her and see where it goes, or you like her and want to be besties again?”
“Besties?”
“That’s what all the cool kids are saying these days. ”
“Because it’s important to sound like them?”
“Bet.”
My eyebrows pinched together. “Bet what?”
“Your balls because Noelle already has them.”
I laughed. “You’re an asshole.”
“Bet.”
“Bet what?”
“It means yes, Mr. Saint Clair, master of Mistletoe Town.”
I turned to leave. There was only so much bullshit I could take, and my cup had run over that day.
“Chill… I’m the last person to be giving you advice.”
“Obviously.” I halted my departure, shifting my eyes back to his. “Yet I’m still here.”
“Aw, hell… can’t take a joke now, Grinchy? Man up. Does she know how you feel?”
I shrugged. “We kissed a few times in high school, but it was mostly under mistletoes. It was kind of our thing…”
“You’re more pussy-whipped than I thought,” Dan remarked, annoying me further. “Don’t women have a sixth sense about this stuff? She can probably smell it on you, but if you don’t want to go the route of being honest with her, then I suggest you just go with it for her. You like her, show her. Simple as that.”
I inhaled a deep breath, contemplating what to say next. In the end, I decided to change the subject. “What about the town? I still don’t want it, and I have to do all these festivities beginning tomorrow. You should see the itinerary. It’s ridiculous. I’m going to have tinsel coming out of my ass by the time this is over.”
“When what’s over?”
“Christmas.”
He scoffed out, patting my back. “I hate to break it to you, Mr. Saint Clair, but there is no over for you. You own Mistletoe Town, remember? Get used to it. ”
I thought about it for a second before I answered, “The only saving grace is that Noelle will be my babysitter.”
“Then I’d use it to your advantage.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you want her to forgive you, then you need to show her that you’ve changed.”
“In what way?”
“In all of it.”
“But I haven’t.”
“Then you should.”
“That makes no sense.”
“How much do you want the girl? You ask a woman like her out for one reason and one reason only. Do I have to spell it out for you? Girls catch feelings quick, so I’d make sure you understand what you’re doing when it comes to her before you string her along.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means maybe you’re ready to settle down and have a girlfriend. Or maybe you’re just lonely.”
“I’m not lonely. There’s just something about her. There’s always been something about her.”
“Always?” he asked, glaring at me like a deer in headlights. “You mean you’ve been thinking about her all these years?”
“Maybe.”
“How often?”
“Often enough.”
“Why didn’t you call her?”
“What are you, Dr. Freud?”
“Well, Sigmund would tell you it stems back to your mother, and come to think of it, that makes sense.” He nodded. “You’re screwed.”
I pointed at him. “You know what? This conversation hasn’t helped me in the least. If anything, you’ve made me more confused. ”
“Well, pull up those panties and start acting like the man she needs if you want to get her back in your life. You said she’s obsessed with Christmas. I’d start there, my friend.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“As a heart attack.”
“That’s the shittiest advice you’ve ever given me. I feel personally offended by what you just suggested.” I shoulder-checked him and walked toward the door.
The audacity of him to tell me to pretend to be another one of my worst nightmares.
I wouldn’t turn into Saint Nicholas.
I refused to.