Chapter 37
CHAPTER 37
NICK
T he past two days have been nothing short of magical, and not in the way I’m used to. Every moment spent with Penelope and Noelle has filled my heart with a warmth that rivals even the coziest night at the North Pole. It’s a different kind of magic, but it runs through my veins, nonetheless.
Yesterday, Noelle and I went Christmas shopping for Penelope. I mean, we didn’t have to—we could have wished with Hazel’s magical purse for whatever Noelle wanted. But here’s the thing. I grew up a normal kid—normal-ish. I mean, there’s not much normal about being in foster homes except that we could count on a big Christmas.
I’m not kidding.
There are so many charities that focus on giving kids in foster care an amazing Christmas that I would spend most of my day opening gifts. It was truly magical and I’m so grateful for the people that—at least for one day—made me feel like I mattered in the world.
The other thing I grew up doing that the other Kringles didn’t was go Christmas shopping for gifts. I remember being in crowds of people and waiting a half hour in the checkout line and the store decorations. All of it. The best part was picking out a gift for my older brother. He was my hero in so many ways and I loved buying him a present. I can just imagine that Noelle felt some of that as she shopped for her mom.
Going Christmas shopping with Noelle was, in a very real way, fulfilling a childhood dream of Christmas shopping for the family of my own that I would one day have.
We’d bundled up against the cold, Noelle, because she needed a coat and me, so I didn’t stand out among the shoppers. I tucked Noelle’s little hand securely in mine as we navigated the festively decorated streets of Founder's Grove. Her face had been scrunched up in concentration as she carefully considered each potential gift, determined to find the perfect presents for her mom.
“What about this?” I’d ask, holding up various items—a colorful scarf, a delicate teacup, a book of poetry. Each time, Noelle would tip her head to the side and then shake it.
“It’s not just right.”
I’d put it back without arguing. I know this magic and it was working inside of her. When we found the right gift, she would know.
At the very next store, a jewelry shop that specializes in items made from the sea and about the sea, Noelle’s eyes had lit up, a gasp escaping her lips.
She stared into the display case, her mouth hanging open. “That’s it,” she whispered.
I got down on her level to look at the thing she pointed at. A delicate silver chain with a snowflake pendant that seemed to catch every bit of light, sending rainbow reflections dancing.
“It looks like magic, just like the snow on Christmas morning!” she’d exclaimed.
I’m lost in these happy memories, absentmindedly fiddling with the tassel on a throw pillow, when Rye strides through the front door, looking like he’s stepped off Wall Street. His three-piece suit perfectly pressed, hair slicked back, and a sleek briefcase in hand. The transformation is startling, to say the least.
“Nick,” Rye announces, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “You won’t believe the news.”
I raise an eyebrow, taking in his appearance. The Rye I know is more likely to be found in a cozy sweater than a power suit and likes to hang out with the middle-management elves because they only take fifteen-minute breaks every eight hours.
“Let me guess—you’ve been cast in a remake of ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’?”
Rye laughs, a sound filled with more genuine joy than I’ve heard from him in years. “Better,” he says, straightening his already impeccable tie. “I’ve been made CEO. I’m moving to Boston right after Christmas—got a penthouse all lined up. We’re going to ring in the new year by taking the company in a whole new direction.”
He pulls out some papers from his briefcase, spreading them on the table with a flourish. “And these fourth-quarter numbers? They’re incredible. We’re talking record-breaking profits, Nick. The board is over the moon.”
As Rye continues to rattle off figures and projections, his copper-colored eyes alight with excitement, I can’t help but feel concerned. On the one hand, I’m happy for my cousin’s success. He’s always been driven, always wanted to prove himself. But there’s something about his unbridled ambition that worries me. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing sight of what really matters in his pursuit of corporate success.
“That’s great, Rye,” I say, trying to inject some enthusiasm into my voice. “But what about your inventions? What about Christmas?”
Rye waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, that. I can do both. After all, Ginger only needs us one night a year, right? The rest of the time, I can be revolutionizing the corporate world.”
I open my mouth to argue, to remind him of all the preparation that goes into that one night, and his pivotal role in elf-management, but I’m interrupted by a knock at the door.
I hop up to open it, knowing it’s Penelope on the other side. I’ve been waiting for her for what feels like hours. The light parade is just around the corner, and she has last-minute details to attend to. I don’t want to take her away from any of that, but I want to be with her as much as possible. I’m sure I’ll get used to living a regular life again.
I open the door, grab Penelope by the arms, and draw her to me for a slow hello kiss. She snuggles into me and kisses me back. “Hello to you too,” she says.
Chuckling, I take her inside and shut the door behind us. “How was your day?” I ask. It feels like such a normal thing to say to someone when they come home and yet it sounds weird in my ears; like I"m trying too hard.
I help her with her coat and see that she’s wearing the sweater I bought her—a soft, cream-colored thing with subtle snowflakes woven into the pattern inspired by Noelle’s Christmas gift for her. Seeing her in it makes my heart swell with affection, and I’m glad that I didn’t wait until Christmas to give it to her.
“It was great. Everything is ready for the light parade.” She takes in the scene—Rye in his power suit, papers strewn across the coffee table. “What’s going on around here?”
Before I can respond, Oliver bursts into the room from the back door. His short hair is standing on end, and his blue eyes are wide behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
“Nick, we have a problem,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose in that nervous habit I’ve come to recognize. “The bouncing at the North Pole is getting worse. Lux is breathing down my neck about it, Frost can’t get The List to work right, Robyn’s had to clean the ovens three times today after bounces, and Ginger is in the stables trying to calm the reindeer—everything’s in disarray. I... I feel like I’m failing. I can’t figure this out.”
I motion to Penelope. “She’s right here. We’re all good. What is going on?” I glance at her. “We’re good, right?”
“Great,” she replies.
I lean down and kiss her quickly. She wrinkles her nose as she grins at me.
“See,” I tell Oliver.
Rye stands up. “I’m going to make some calls.” He puts his phone to his ear. “Isabella, talk to me, cuz. I need answers.” He wanders into the kitchen.
Isabella is a fantastic source of info. She can charm the stripes of a candy cane, and people are compelled to tell her things.
Penelope’s brow furrows, confusion and concern etched on her face. “Wait, the North Pole . . . bounces?”
“Not usually.” Oliver launches into an explanation about the instability at the North Pole and their many theories on why that is, his words tumbling out in a rush. He talks about magical energy fluctuations about how the very foundation of Santa’s workshop seems to be unstable. Thankfully, he has enough tact to leave out the fact that it’s all, somehow, tied to her and me.
“I wish there was a way to ask Christmas Magic what it wants,” I mumble, frustration seeping into my voice. I thought it wanted us to be together. Now we’re together, and it’s not happy.
Oliver pauses, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Maybe there is,” he says slowly. “The substation room is so full of Magic; you could go there and ask. ”
I shake my head firmly, my arm instinctively tightening around Penelope’s waist. “I’m not leaving Penelope—ever again,” I declare. The memory of our separation, of the pain it caused both of us, is still too fresh.
Oliver pushes his glasses up on his nose, looking torn. “Maybe I should call Lux and Dad,” he says after a moment, already pulling out his phone as he wanders off to make the call.
As soon as we’re alone, I move to the couch and pull Penelope onto my lap, relishing the warmth of her body against mine. She fit perfectly like she was always meant to be there. Our lips meet in a soft, sweet kiss that speaks volumes about the love we share. I pour everything I’m feeling into that kiss—my love, my commitment, my promise to always be there. I don’t want her to think for even a moment that I would fly off and leave her here. Nothing is more important to me than her and Noelle.
When we part, Penelope’s eyes are serious, searching my face. “Nick,” she says softly, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on the back of my neck, “You’ve more than proven that you love me, and I feel safe with you. If you need to go to the North Pole to figure this out, I understand.”
Her words touch me deeply, and I pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. The fact that she’s willing to let me go, to put the needs of Christmas ahead of her own desires, only makes me love her more. But it also reinforces my decision to stay.
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her, my voice soft but firm. “We’ll figure this out. I meant what I said—I’m not leaving you.”
Oliver will talk to Lux and Quik, and they’ll figure out the science of Christmas Magic, and all will be well. It has to be. If not, I’ll run away with Penelope and Noelle, and we’ll start somewhere fresh. I don’t know how far we’d have to go to get away from Christmas Magic, but I’ll do what I have to do to keep my girls with me.
As I hold Penelope in my arms, I’m filled with a sense of certainty. No matter what challenges we face—magical or otherwise—we’ll overcome them together. Because this, right here, is where I belong. With Penelope and Noelle, I’ve found a magic more powerful than anything the North Pole could ever offer. And that’s a gift I’ll cherish forever.
I want forever to start right now. The thought hits me with such force that I’m knocked speechless. I don’t want to wait another month, week, or even day to call Penelope my wife. I want to marry her. I want to wake up Christmas morning with her in my arms. I want to spend Christmas day with her and Noelle and Grandpa Henry, and I want my family now.
I want it so badly that I’m willing to do something crazy.