Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
PENELOPE
A date.
The word still feels foreign on my tongue, sending a flutter of nervous excitement through my stomach.
This will be my third date with Nick Kringle, and I can’t help but replay the memories of our dinner at a lobster roll place in Boston. We walked part of the tourist loop and ended up in Little Italy, where we stuffed our faces with cream puffs.
The thing is—I don’t do things like that. I’m a mom . I’m responsible. I consider the consequences before ever doing something fun. Not that I have a lot of time for fun or the opportunity to have it if I did have time. When did I become such a workaholic? It’s not like I couldn’t drive Noelle to Boston and visit a museum between my full-time job and doing the books for the bakery. I just don’t.
That’s not the kind of mom I want to be .
Which made sharing our date with Noelle that much more rewarding. Nick not only planned the date with her in mind—he made sure we had lots of crackers and things to keep Noelle happy while we ate and he pushed the stroller. It was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. He was so protective of her, that I was able to relax a little and just enjoy myself and enjoy the time with Noelle.
I didn’t know it could be like that.
It’s too good to be true, isn’t it?
That’s what I keep telling myself. And yet, images of Nick’s green eyes crinkling at the corner when he laughs, and the way I always feel so warm when I’m around him, keeps popping into my head. He doesn’t have to be so charming. Yet he is. Which makes me a little leery. Noelle’s father was charming at first, too.
“You look beautiful, honey.” Grandpa Henry’s voice breaks through my reverie. I turn to see him standing in the doorway, Noelle perched on his hip. My daughter’s curls are a mess, and there’s a smudge of what I hope is applesauce on her cheek.
“Thanks, Grandpa,” I say, reaching for Noelle. She comes to me willingly, immediately grabbing at my earrings. I guess this is a stage. I’ll have to switch to wearing studs for a while.
“You know,” Grandpa says, a hint of suggestion in his voice, “I’d be happy to watch Noelle tonight if you wanted some alone time with Nick.”
A blush creeps up my neck at his implication. He’s a gentleman through and through and for him to bring up alone time was a stretch. Not that I wouldn’t like some time alone with Nick. I would. That’s why it shouldn’t happen. I don’t want to kiss him and then be ruined for other kisses for the rest of my life. Nick hasn’t said anything about being in town longer than the Bazaar, and I’m not looking for a kiss goodbye. No matter how tempting he is or how much fun I have when I’m with him, I need to keep myself in check.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll bring her along. Nick seems to genuinely enjoy having her around.”
Grandpa raises an eyebrow. “If you’re sure. But you know, a little romance wouldn’t hurt. Dinner and a movie at his place isn’t exactly a night at the Ritz.”
I shake my head, a small smile playing on my lips. “It’s perfect, Grandpa. Besides, you should have seen how Nick took turns pushing Noelle’s stroller all over Boston. He didn’t complain once, even when she sneezed crackers all over his Christmas sweater.”
The memory warms me, and I hug Noelle a little closer. There’s something special about the way Nick interacts with her, a genuine care and affection that goes beyond trying to impress me.
As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door downstairs. My heart does a little flip, and I take a deep breath to steady myself. “That’ll be Nick,” I say, more to myself than to Grandpa.
He gives me a knowing look. “Have fun, sweetheart. And remember, it’s okay to let someone in sometimes.”
I nod and make my way downstairs with Noelle. When I open the door, Nick is standing there in all his handsome glory. He’s wearing a forest green button-down that makes his eyes pop, and yes, another ridiculous Christmas sweater vest over it. This one features a gingerbread house with actual twinkling lights. It should look absurd, but on Nick, it’s somehow charming.
“Hi,” I breathe, suddenly feeling shy.
Nick’s face lights up with a smile that could rival any Christmas tree. “Hi yourself,” he says, then turns his attention to Noelle. “And hello there, Princess Noelle! Ready for our big night?”
Noelle babbles happily in response, reaching out for Nick. Without hesitation, he scoops her up, blowing a raspberry on her cheek and eliciting a peal of giggles. The sight makes my heart swell in a way I’m not quite ready to examine too closely.
We move to Nick’s SUV, and he opens the back door. There, securely installed in the backseat, is a brand-new car seat.
“You got a car seat?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. This feels big. Like, put a ring on it big. What man buys a car seat for a kid if he’s not planning to stick around? I mean, I guess if he has enough money that it’s no big deal, then it’s not a grand gesture.
Nick has plenty of money.
But it still feels grand.
Nick shrugs and cups the back of his neck. “Well, yeah. I figured it would come in handy, you know, if we decide to run out for . . . anything.”
I swallow hard against the sudden lump in my throat. “That’s... that’s really thoughtful, Nick. Thank you.”
He gives me a soft smile, his green eyes warm with an emotion that makes me feel all tingly. “Shall we?” he asks, gesturing towards the car.
“Yep.” I step to the back seat and secure Noelle. Nick waits and then opens my door for me.
The drive to his house is filled with comfortable conversation, and Noelle’s happy babbling from the backseat. As we pull up to a cozy-looking Cape Cod-style home, the scent of something delicious wafts through the air.
“Hope you’re hungry,” Nick says as he helps me out of the car. “I may have gone a little overboard with dinner.”
Inside, the house is warm and inviting. The living room features overstuffed furniture in rich, jewel-toned fabrics, and a crackling fire in the fieldstone fireplace casts a soft glow over everything. There’s a giant, live Christmas tree that looks like it’s been decorated by a professional. I’d bet ten bucks that Nick did it. I’ve seen his handiwork at the Bazaar.
When I asked him where he learned to decorate, he said his sister-in-law, Ginger, has a natural talent for it and taught him everything he knows. Although, if she were decorating, there wouldn’t be a surface left blank. She likes to go overboard with Christmas.
There’s garlands across the mantle and down the banister and nutcrackers lined up along the side board. But it’s the kitchen that draws my attention. The aroma of roasting chicken and herbs fills the air, making my mouth water.
“Nick, this smells amazing,” I say, taking in the sight of the beautifully set table. There’s even a high chair for Noelle, complete with a tiny placemat featuring Disney princesses. He is full of surprises. The way he’s buying baby accessories is almost too much.
He ducks his head, looking pleased. “I wanted tonight to be special. I hope you don’t mind eating in.”
“It’s perfect,” I assure him, meaning every word. The house is stunning—and clean! I know it’s the mom side of me again, but being in a space I don’t have to pick up is liberating. Nick is hitting all my buttons in a good way, and I don’t want him to stop.
Except that when he leaves, I’ll be left comparing every man who comes along with him. I can’t imagine that there are any who could compete. Why don’t men know how attractive it is for them to meet our needs? And I’m just talking about making dinner and sweeping the floor. Which Nick apparently does really well because there is not a crumb big enough for a Christmas mouse around this place.
As we settle in for dinner, I work up the nerve to ask him about organizing the Bazaar. “What I mean is, I’d like to know the details. I haven’t planned an event like this, and there are so many moving parts. Advertising alone—how did you get the word out so quickly?”
He chuckles. “If you wanted everyone in town to know about something, who would you tell?”
“Mrs. Thompson,” I reply quickly.
He holds up a hand and raises both eyebrows. “There you have it.”
I laugh. “There’s more. I’ve seen the fliers.”
He groans. “I should not have put my personal number on them. I had people calling and texting at all hours, asking questions. It’s good to be available, but when Phil called at four in the morning to ask about the fudge station, I realized my mistake.”
I laugh. “Well, you can’t put a question about fudge off until daylight. That would be ridiculous.”
He tickles my side, and I giggle and scoot away from him.
The conversation continues to flow easily as we eat, punctuated by Noelle’s happy babbling and the occasional clatter of her dropping food on the floor. Nick isn’t even worried about the mess.
“You should be proud,” I tell him, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. My skin warms at the contact, and it rushes right to my cheeks. I’m not usually forward with men, but Nick is too easy to be around. “You’ve really brought something special to Founder's Grove.”
Before he can respond, there’s a loud thump in the living room. Someone says, “Gumdrops! Who puts a chair there?”
Nick jumps up so fast that he nearly knocks over his chair. “What in the butterscotch—?”
We rush to the living room to find a young woman sitting on the automan rubbing her shin. She looks up at us with startlingly blue eyes, a sheepish grin on her face.
“Hi, Nick,” she says. “I made it. You should have seen the crosswind over Alaska; it was a killer.”
Nick’s face goes through a rapid series of emotions. “Hazel? Uh, what are you doing here? Tonight.” He turns to offer me an apologetic smile. I can see it out of the corner of my eye because I’m watching this beautiful woman who walked right in to Nick’s home.
Her eyes land on me, and she clamps a hand over her mouth and then gives Nick a panicked look. “I’m sorry,” she says, scrambling to her feet and dusting herself off. “I didn’t realize you had company. Mom said you were home alone, and we talked about doing the Christmas nuts for the Bazaar thing you’re doing, so I thought I’d pop in and—”
He reaches out and puts a hand on my side. She stops abruptly, her eyes widening even further. “Oh. Oh no. You’re on a date, aren’t you?”
Nick runs his free hand through his hair. “Hazel, my niece, this is Penelope, my date.”
Hazel’s face crumples with embarrassment. She’s a shy one, and I feel bad for making her feel bad. It’s not her fault, she interrupted. “Penelope, the one you told Mom about?”
I feel a warmth spread through me at her words. He’s told his family about me?
Nick glances down. “This is her.”
“I’ll go.” She steps toward the fireplace.
“No, no,” I find myself saying, surprising even myself. I can’t stand the idea of her leaving. She’s so very sweet, and obviously, this is hard for her. Besides, I haven’t met any of Nick’s adopted family yet, and I’d like to. “Please, stay. We were just having dinner. There’s plenty if you’d like to join us.”
Nick looks at me, his expression a mix of gratitude and apology. “Are you sure? ”
I offer him a smile. “It’s fine, really. I like her.” Besides, he’s been so accommodating and kind to my daughter; how can I turn Hazel away?
We make our way back to the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry.” Hazel continues to apologize. “Really. I didn’t even think. I just wanted to get a head start on the nuts for the Bazaar.”
“I appreciate that,” Nick says. His tone is so sweet that I believe him, and I hope Hazel does too.
Hazel stops short at the sight of Noelle in her highchair and she positively transforms. Gone is the apologizing, hesitant young woman. “Hello, princess.”
I note that she and Nick use the same nickname for her. It must be a Kringle thing.
“You are so beautiful, and I bet you’re smart, too. You look smart.” She flips around to look at us. “Can you see the intelligence in her eyes?”
“Since day one,” I quip, winking at Nick as I sit down.
Hazel runs her finger down Noelle’s chubby cheek. “You are incredible. Did you know that? You’re going to do kind things, wonderful things, and have so many people who love you.”
I blink. Wow. I could feel her words sink into Noelle and see them make her smile. She believes what Hazel told her. Goodness, what have I been telling her. I mentally scan the afternoon. All good things. I say nice things to my daughter—whew.
Nick sets a plate in front of Hazel.
She tucks in. “This is really good, Nick,” she says between bites. “You’ve definitely improved since the Turkey Incident of 2018.”
Nick groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Hazel, please. We agreed never to speak of that again.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Okay, now I have to hear this story.”
Hazel’s eyes light up. It seems all we have to do is get through her outer shell and into her inner circle and she relaxes. Although I feel like I’m the one who is getting a backstage pass into the family. There is something about the Kringle’s that’s magnetic and cool. I bet they were all part of the A-list crowd in high school.
“Oh, it was hilarious,” Hazel starts in on her story. “Nick decided he was going to cook the family Thanksgiving turkey all by himself. He wanted to take some of the pressure off my mom because she was busy that year developing new recipes for Christmas.”
“Before Thanksgiving?” I ask. Some people like to celebrate early. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that Nick comes from one of those families. He has a lot of ugly Christmas sweaters.
“Mom’s thinking about Christmas all year round,” Hazel throws out.
As Hazel launches into the tale, complete with dramatic reenactments, I find myself relaxing. The tension in my shoulders eases, and I lean back, a smile tugging at my lips. There’s something about her energy that’s infectious, the way her eyes light up, and her hands dance through the air as she recounts the story. Even Noelle is entertained as she giggles at Hazel’s animated gestures. For a moment, all my worries and uncertainties fade away, replaced by the simple pleasure of sharing a funny story with friends.
Nick, takes the teasing good-naturedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughs along. I find myself stealing glances at him, marveling at how comfortable he seems, even with his carefully planned evening derailed by his niece’s unexpected arrival.
Just as Hazel is finishing her story, there’s another commotion from the living room. This time, it sounds like multiple people arriving.
Nick’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh no,” he mutters, jumping up from the table. “Hazel?”
Her eyes widen. “I didn’t invite them.”
The kitchen is suddenly flooded with people. A tall, handsome man who must be Nick’s brother Gabe, strides in and wraps him in a bear hug. Nick returns it, obviously pleased with the reunion.
A petite redhead, whom I assume is Gabe’s wife, Robyn, and several children of varying ages push him into the room so they can gain access. Behind them, looking slightly overwhelmed but amused is an elegant older woman who can only be Nick’s adopted mother. The woman oozes motherly instincts and grace. She’s everything I wish I was and all I ever hope to be.
“Surprise!” they all chorus before falling silent as they take in the scene before them.
For a moment, everyone just stares at each other. I clutch my necklace, feeling suddenly exposed under all these curious gazes. Nick sputters .
Then, as if a spell has been broken, everyone starts talking at once.
“Oh my goodness, you must be Penelope!” Robyn shakes my hand and then pulls me in for a hug. She smells like bread and cookies.
“Nick, why didn’t you tell us you had company?” Gabe pounds him on the back.
“Is that little Noelle?” I’m not sure who knew her name; they’re all talking at once. The family wraps around the high chair. Before I know it, Noelle is being passed around like a cherished doll, cooed over and admired by every member of the Kringle clan. To my surprise, she loves the attention, giggling, and reaching out for each new face. The men, in particular, seem enchanted by her, each trying to outdo the others in making her laugh. They are so goofy—and so good-looking at the same time. Seriously. Nick thinks he’s the least of the Kringles, but I’d say he’s the cream of the crop and easily the most handsome. Although any one of these men could
“She’s absolutely precious,” Gail says, appearing at my elbow. She is like a high-powered CEO and cookie making grandma rolled into one. “You must be so proud.”
I nod. “I am,” I manage to say. “She’s my whole world.”
The older woman pats my hand gently. “Well, now she’s part of our world, too. And so are you, dear.”
Before I can process the weight of her words, I notice Robyn pulling Nick aside, her expression serious. Nick’s face clouds over, and I feel a pang of concern. What could they be discussing? Me? Us being here together? What if I’m not what the Kringles wanted for Nick ?
I don’t have time to dwell on it. Hazel takes my right hand and a I’m being gently led into the kitchen. A man with ice-blue eyes and a crew cut and thick build walks backward in front of us. He has a swagger, the kind you get when you are in the military and know you can beat up anyone else in the room. Except I don’t feel like he’s a threat. I feel like he would be the most amazing ally.
“I’m Oliver, Nick’s favorite nephew.”
Hazel backhands him in the stomach.
“What? I couldn’t say it if it wasn’t true,” he protests.
She scowls.
Oliver turns back to me. “You have to try Hazel’s Christmas nuts. They’re legendary.” He winks at his cousin. “Rumor has it that our great-great-grandmother gave them to a tsar who gifted her a diamond and emerald necklace that’s worth more than Russia.”
“Oh?” I try to hide my laughter at his exaggerations. “ All of Russia?” I lift an eyebrow.
He leans closer and whispers, “All of it.”
“I’ve tweaked the recipe,” Hazel adds, her eyes darting to the side in uncertainty.
Rye, another nephew, produces a tin of candied nuts. Where Oliver has this vibe of someone who can make a bomb out of a coconut and a battery, Rye is all efficiency and I want to ask him to come over and organize my pantry.
“A little bit of Christmas magic in every bite,” he says, his copper eyes glinting.
I take one, and the sweet and spicy aroma fills my senses. As I bite into it, flavors explode on my tongue— cinnamon, sugar, a hint of something I can’t quite place, but that makes me think of frosty mornings and warm fires.
“These are incredible,” I say, meaning every word. Hazel beams with pride.
“Has Nick ever told you about the time we went sledding in Colorado?” Oliver asks.
I shake my head. He launches into a story full of jokes, and I find myself relaxing against the counter while listening. There’s something about this family that just feels... right. They have a way of making everyone feel included and special—even me. Gail has Noelle now, and she’s talking to her about Santa, the North Pole, and reindeer. Noelle is watching her face, soaking in her stories as if they are true.
Every now and then, I catch glimpses of Nick in the living room, still deep in conversation with Robyn. Each time he catches my eye, he manages a warm smile that sets my heart fluttering.
I want to fall deeply into this family and never come up for air. It would be wonderful to have so many people loving my daughter. They all call her Princess Noelle, and I get the feeling they’d treat her like one. Heaven help me. I’d be the big bad mom who had to keep her from being spoiled rotten—wouldn’t that be nice?
I chuckle at my own thoughts and then sigh.
“What’s the matter?” asks Hazel. “You breathed sad.”
I smile at her. “I don’t want this evening to end.” I look around the room, and my heart expands. “You all are so wonderful. ”
She smiles a full smile, and I’m struck by how her whole face changes. She’s keeping so much of herself back. “We like you too,” she says, handing me a cup of hot chocolate topped with peppermint whipped cream.
“I hope you’ll stick around for Christmas,” I venture, blowing into my mug.
Her smile slips a few degrees. “I’ll be here until the Bazaar, but I need to be home for Christmas. We all do.”
“Of course.” I look down. I feel like I’ve overstepped somehow. When I look up to ask her if all includes Nick, she’s on the other side of the kitchen and I lost my chance. Oh well. It’s better not to count on things. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best, right?