Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
NICK
T he large double doors, adorned with intricate snowflake carvings, creak open, and I step into the reindeer stables. The scent of fresh hay and pine garlands fills my nostrils. The elves do an incredible job of keeping this place clean and the reindeer happy. They groom them—constantly if the reindeer will let them. Reindeer love to be pampered. They receive all sorts of treatments, everything from chiropractic work to hoof trims, buffs, and lacquers.
I pause for a moment, taking it all in. The stables are a hive of activity, elves scurrying about with last-minute preparations for our departure. The cheerful brass lanterns hanging from the ceiling beams cast a golden glow over everything, making the entire space feel cozy.
My eyes are drawn to the big sleigh—not Santa’s famous Christmas Eve model, but the green one that can comfortably fit four .
As I approach, hauling my regular-sized suitcase behind me, I fight against my instincts to turn back and run.
“Nick!” a booming voice calls out. I turn to see Harvey striding towards me, his round belly jiggling with each step. He claps me on the shoulder, his touch warm and comforting. “That’s the spirit, my boy. Gail and I will follow you all in the smaller sleigh.”
I guess they’re going too.
It’s a surprise, but I’m not shocked. They’re going through a transition period, trying to find their place in the world of Christmas.
I nod, grateful for their support. As I start to load my suitcase into the sleigh, I notice a commotion near the stable doors. The rest of the family is arriving to see us off. I can’t escape their love, not that I’m trying to. This is who they are—it’s all for one at the North Pole.
Robyn enters first, her auburn hair gleaming in the lantern light. She makes a beeline for Hazel, pulling her aside with a serious expression. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I see Robyn press her magical purse into Haze’s hands. Hazel’s ice-blue eyes widen in surprise and awe.
“Are you serious?” Hazel gasps.
I grin. Robyn knows just how to express trust in her daughter at the same time she’s giving her an invaluable tool. Having that purse will make things easier for Hazel while she’s away from the North Pole and family.
Robyn nods, tears glistening in her eyes. “I feel like this is just a small step in your big journey. I don’t know where you will end up, but you might need this. Use it properly—to bring joy to others—and it will serve you well.” She leans in to kiss Hazel’s cheek.
Hazel grins mischievously, peeking into the purse. “I wish for a handsome man to meet under the mistletoe.”
Robyn’s laughter rings out. That’s not how the purses work, but it’s a funny joke. One that my brother, who rubs his stomach as if it aches, doesn’t seem to appreciate. “You’re causing me ulcers, Hazel.”
Hazel’s tinkling laugh joins her mother’s. “Don’t worry, Dad.”
My attention is drawn to Rye, who’s attempting to maneuver through the growing crowd with his luggage. “Don’t worry about me, Mom,” he calls out sarcastically. “I’ll be fine without a purse.”
Robyn swats at him playfully. “Don’t sass your mother!”
Rye catches her hand, pulling her into a hug. “I wouldn’t! Love you, Mom.”
Robyn melts into the embrace. “Love you too. Go easy on the big city, okay?” She glances at me over his shoulder, and I can tell she’s truly more worried about Boston and what Rye will do to it than what it can do to Rye.
I don’t blame her. He’s always been a force of nature—usually the tornado kind.
As they continue their goodbyes, the stable doors burst open once more. Gail, Ginger, Joseph, Layla, Lux, Quik, and Oliver spill through, bringing with them a flurry of excitement .
“We made it just in time,” Layla grins, her caramel-colored hair windswept from the dash to the stables.
I watch as Gail pulls Rye aside, pressing a key into his hand. “It’s a key that will unlock any door,” she explains in a hushed tone. “Santa’s have been using it for centuries. Don’t lose it.”
Rye pockets the key reverently. “I won’t. Thank you so much.”
I glance away. I was already given a magical item, and I lost it. I won’t be getting another. Which is fine. I’ve come to terms with that.
Lux and Quik approach Oliver, presenting him with a sleek new phone. Oliver’s eyes light up, but he glances uncertainly at Rye.
Lux is quick to clarify, “It’s not magical, it’s just the latest model. Won’t hit stores until after the first of the year.”
Oliver’s grin widens. “Even better than magical.” He stares down at the phone for a moment before asking, “In light of Nick’s situation, I have to ask, are the rest of us in danger of losing our magical powers? Could Christmas Magic take them, too?”
A hush falls over the stables. Lux and Quik exchange worried glances, but it’s Harvey who steps forward to answer. “Christmas Magic gives us all what we need to accomplish the impossible every year,” he says. “We’re strong as a family and it will protect that.”
Christmas Magic feeds off the true love between Mr. and Mrs. Santa—and their children and grandchildren, we’ve recently learned. I haven’t said as much out loud, but I’m not happy that there’s pressure from Christmas Magic to settle down. I understand that there’s a responsibility that comes with this power, but that doesn’t mean I can just fall for anyone.
Or that I can fall out of love with Penelope.
Believe me, I’ve tried.
The thought of her sends a jolt through my heart. Her warm golden eyes, the way her chestnut curls catch the light, the sound of her laughter... My palms sweat with anticipation. I can’t believe I’m doing this.
“I went down last night and put up the Christmas tree,” Gail tells us. “I left some lights on, too. I wanted it to feel like home when you go down the chimney.”
“Thank you.” I hug her. “That was thoughtful.”
She shrugs. “Anything for my kids.” She cups my cheek and then hugs me once more.
“Well,” Ginger’s cheerful voice breaks through my thoughts, “I think it’s about time we got this show on the road, don’t you?”
There’s a general murmur of agreement, and suddenly, the stable is a flurry of activity once more. Last-minute hugs are exchanged, final pieces of advice are given, and luggage is loaded into the sleigh.
I climb aboard, settling into my seat next to Hazel. She gives me a small, nervous smile, clutching Robyn’s magical purse to her chest like a lifeline. On her other side, Rye lounges with an air of excited nonchalance, though I can see the way his fingers keep brushing the pocket where Gail’s key rests.
Oliver takes the seat behind us, already engrossed in exploring his new phone. His excitement is palpable, reminding me of a kid on Christmas morning.
As the rest of the family gathers around the sleigh for final goodbyes, I feel a tugging in my chest.
Gail and Harvey move to the front of the sleigh. “Ready?” Harvey calls back to us, his eyes twinkling.
We all nod, a chorus of “Ready!” ringing out.
I gather the reins in my hands and hold them up. “On Rudy!” I call. The elves push the large doors open, and the wind tears through the stable. Rudy strains against the leather, making the bells jingle. And then we’re suddenly off.
The sleigh lifts smoothly into the air, the stables and our waving family growing smaller below us.
As we soar through the sky, the journey south is a blur of wisps of cloud, the sleigh cutting smoothly through the sky. Rudy’s powerful muscles ripple beneath his shimmering coats as he guides us unerringly toward Founder's Grove.
As we near our destination, I feel a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. The lights of the town come into view, a warm, inviting glow against the darkness. Somewhere down there is Penelope, going about her life, probably having forgotten all about me and the magic we once shared.
“Nick?” Hazel’s soft voice breaks through my brooding thoughts. “Are you okay?”
I turn to her, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Just... thinking.”
She nods, understanding in her ice-blue eyes. “It’s going to be strange being back in Founder's Grove after everything that happened.”
“Yeah,” I agree, my voice barely audible over the rush of wind. “Strange is one word for it.”
As we begin our descent, I catch sight of a familiar blue house—the Kringle House. My heart gives a painful lurch as memories flood back. Noelle’s giggles echoing through the rooms, the smell of Penelope’s grandfather’s fresh-baked bread wafting up from the bakery, and the warmth of her hand in mine as we walked through the town.
We touch down in the backyard of the house with barely a sound, Rudy coming to a graceful stop on the snow-covered lawn.
Gail and Harvey land moments later in the smaller sleigh, their cheeks rosy from the flight. “Well, here we are,” Harvey says cheerfully, his breath misting in the frigid air. “Home sweet home, at least for now.”
We begin unloading our luggage, the crunching of snow under our feet.
As we file into the house, the familiar scent of pine and cinnamon envelops us. It’s exactly as I remember it, and for a moment, the weight of memories threatens to overwhelm me.
“Alright, everyone,” Gail says, her voice low but firm. “Let’s get settled in. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.” She looks right at me. “Will you go to the local schools and set up some visits for us? I think Harvey needs some time with the children; he’s been a little run down.”
I haven’t noticed such a thing, but I’ve been so wrapped up in my own stuff that I wouldn’t. “I’ll be happy to.”
“Thank you.” She marches up the steps. “Meeting in the kitchen in ten minutes,” she calls.
As the others disperse to their rooms, I find myself lingering in the living room. The Christmas tree in the corner, adorned with twinkling lights and cherished ornaments, catches my eye. I approach it slowly, my fingers brushing against a familiar ornament—a delicate glass snowflake that Penelope and I had picked out together at the Bazaar four years ago.
I stare out the window at the quiet, snow-covered street. Somewhere out there is Penelope, unaware that her world is about to be turned upside down.
Again.
Everyone unpacks and then gathers in the kitchen. Gail lays a pan of hot cross buns in the middle of the table.
“So, what’s the plan?” Rye asks, his mouth full.
Gail clears her throat, taking charge as she often does. “We need to establish ourselves in town without raising too much suspicion. Rye, you’ll be heading into the city for your job interviews. Oliver, you mentioned wanting to set up your workshop in the barn?”
Oliver nods enthusiastically, fiddling with his new phone. “Yes, I’ve got some ideas for inventions that could really help around here. Non-magical, of course,” he adds hastily, glancing at me.
“Good,” Gail continues. “Hazel, dear, why don’t we explore the local grocery and maybe venture into Boston to see what specialty shops they have there. It might give you some inspiration for your culinary experiments.”
Hazel’s eyes light up at the suggestion. “Oh, that sounds interesting.” Already, she looks more sure of herself than the last time she sat at this table. I am startled when I realize that she’s grown up in a lot of ways. The magic she used in Moose Hollow was way more advanced than any of us thought she was capable of—her included. I think that scared her, but also emboldened her at the same time.
Finally, Gail’s eyes land on me, and I brace myself for whatever she has in store. “Nick, I think it might be good for you to take a walk around town. Reacquaint yourself with Founder's Grove and see what’s changed. And... well, if you happen to run into anyone you know, that wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
I know exactly who she’s referring to, and the thought sends a jolt through my system. But I nod, knowing she’s right. I can’t avoid Penelope forever, not in a town this size and an accidental meeting on the street would be a lot less pressure than making an appointment with her.
I glance down at the sweater vest I’m wearing. This one features a gingerbread house with twinkling lights. It’s ridiculous, I know, but it feels like armor.
As I step out into the crisp sea air, the snow crunching beneath my boots, I take a deep breath. The scent of pine and wood and sea fills my lungs, so familiar and yet now tinged with a hint of nostalgia and longing.
I begin my walk through town, taking in the changes that four years have brought. Some storefronts have changed, and new businesses have sprung up, but the heart of Founder's Grove remains the same. The town square is decked out for Christmas, and a large tree standing proudly in the center is waiting to be lit at the annual tree lighting ceremony. It wasn’t like this the first time I arrived, and I’m thrilled that my mission to bring the Spirit of Christmas here was a success.
I round the corner onto Main Street and my heart races. I know what’s coming—Caldwell’s Cottage Bakery. I slow my steps, unsure if I’m ready for this encounter. The building looks old, a lot older than it did three Christmases ago. The front is dark, and I approach to read the hours of operation. They’re scarce. What’s happening here?
Cupping my hands around my eyes, I peer inside. There’s bread, wrapped in plastic bags, on the shelves; the display case is a third full. There’s an air of forgotten-ness hanging around the place. It’s rather depressing.
I step back and look up at the windows.
I can’t imagine why the bakery would be in such a state. I’m not sure what this means for Penelope and Noelle. Penelope loved the bakery. She wouldn’t let it close down.
So what is going on?