Chapter 38
CHAPTER 38
PENELOPE
I t’s Christmas Eve Eve, and I have a date.
Not just any date, either. This is a rare date with Nick without Noelle. It seems so strange. The three of us are almost always together, a fact that I enjoy and thrive on. But I wanted him to myself. When he suggested that we take a stroll along Waterfront Street, where the tourist shops are all decorated and lit up for Christmas, and the harbor is strung with lights for tomorrow night’s parade, I couldn’t resist.
It’s cold out, but I’m not even worried. Somehow, when I hold Nick’s hand, I’m always warm. I’m in. my room getting ready. Hazel offered to babysit tonight. I didn’t have to think long about accepting. I know Grandpa can handle Noelle; they have such a wonderful bond, but maybe I need to stop relying on him so much.
Hazel seems comfortable here. She keeps pulling things out of her purse for both Grandpa and Noelle. Grandpa asks for an old-fashioned root beer and she not only pulls a frosty bottle from the purse, she pulls out a can opener and pops the top. He sips it and sighs happily. “Just like I remember.”
The soft glow of the television flickers in the living room, casting dancing shadows on the walls. I can hear the familiar voices of Charlie Brown and his friends drifting from the speakers, punctuated by Noelle’s delighted giggles and Hazel’s gentle explanations. Grandpa’s deep chuckle joins in occasionally, and the sound warms my heart.
I stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom, putting the finishing touches on my outfit. Despite the countless moments we’ve shared over the past few days, I still feel a flutter of excitement in my stomach at the thought of spending time alone with him.
I step out into the hallway and then the front room. Noelle looks up and her eyes round. “You’re so pretty.”
I smile, smoothing down the front of my burgundy sweater dress. “Thank you, sweetie. Are you having fun with Grandpa and Hazel?”
She nods enthusiastically. “We’re watching all the Christmas cartoons! Hazel knows so many stories about Santa and the elves. Did you know that the elves have a special dance they do when they finish making all the toys?”
I laugh, marveling at Hazel’s creativity—or perhaps, I realize with a start, her inside knowledge .
A knock at the front door sends a thrill through me. “That must be Nick,” I say, giving Noelle a quick kiss on the forehead. “Be good for Grandpa and Hazel, okay?”
“Okay.” She scampers back to the living room, already telling Hazel about the next cartoon they should watch.
I take a deep breath, grab my coat, and head to the door. When I open it, the sight of Nick takes my breath away. He’s wearing a deep green sweater that brings out the color of his eyes. I simply stare. There’s no reindeer, Santa face, snow man, flashing lights, or even a snowflake.
“What happened to your sweater?” I ask, pointing at his chest. I’ve become so used to seeing him in ugly Christmas sweaters that I’m not sure I know the man standing in front of me.
His hands go to his chest and he glances down. “Oh. Um . . . I do have regular sweaters. I thought you’d like . . . it.” He looks at me and then down again. “You don’t like it.”
I put my hands over his on his chest and then slide them up around his neck. “I like you,” I say softly before kissing his neck. “I like you in plain sweaters. I like you in ugly ones. I like you with bobbits and feathers. I like you in knitted puns.”
He chuckles. “How did you know the way to my heart was through Dr. Seuss-ish rhyming?” He pulls me close and nips at my ear.
“Lucky guess,” I breathe.
“How many seconds do we have before Henry turns around in that chair?” he murmurs against my skin.
I’m sagging against him, barely able to withstand the heat that’s coursing through my veins and melting every joint. “About five.”
“One.” He kisses my neck. “Two.” He kisses just below my ear, humming as he does and making me giggle. I work quickly to stop, not wanting to interrupt before he gets to five. “Three.” He brushes his lips across mine. “Four.” He kisses me a little deeper. “Five.” He moves up and kisses my forehead. A smart move just in case Grandpa turns around one second early.
He offers me his arm with a playful bow. “Shall we, my lady?”
As if I can walk after that. I link my arm through his, calling out a goodbye to the others as we head out into the crisp December night. There is plenty of time for kisses this evening and I hope he takes advantage of each and every one.
I know I plan to.
As we walk down Waterfront Street, I’m struck anew by the beauty of our little town. The Christmas decorations are truly stunning this year, transforming the familiar streets into a winter wonderland. Every shop window is a work of art, glowing softly in the night. Business owners are staying open late for last-minute shoppers. There are not droves of them out but enough to make it feel like things are busy.
No one’s driving. We’re a town of walking people, anyway. Tomorrow night, the whole street will be blocked off and this place will be crowded with spectators. I’m so excited about it all.
The bookstore’s display features a miniature village scene, complete with tiny ice skaters on a mirror lake and a train circling a Christmas tree. The cookie house next door has gone all out with a gingerbread house theme, the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg wafting out every time the door opens.
Twinkling fairy lights are strung between the lampposts, creating a canopy of stars above us. Garlands of evergreen and holly adorn every doorway, their rich green a striking contrast to the red bows and silver bells that accompany them. In the town square, a massive Christmas tree stands proud, its ornaments catching and reflecting the light, creating a dazzling display.
But it’s the harbor that truly takes my breath away. Each dock is outlined in lights, their reflections shimmering on the dark water. Boats of all sizes are decked out in their holiday best, strings of lights wrapped around masts and railings, inflatable Santas, and snowmen perched on decks. It’s a preview of tomorrow night’s boat light parade, and the sight fills me with childlike wonder.
“It’s magical, isn’t it?” Nick’s voice is soft beside me, filled with awe that matches my own.
I nod, leaning into him. He wraps his arms around me from behind, and I lean into his solid chest. “It really is.”
We walk in comfortable silence for a while, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling street. Carolers are gathered on one corner, their harmonies floating on the breeze. I didn’t arrange that. They just showed up, wanting to share their gift of melody with strangers. I think it’s wonderful. The whole town seems alive with the spirit of Christmas .
“I can’t wait for the light parade tomorrow night,” I say as we pause to admire a particularly elaborate window display—this one featuring animatronic elves busily wrapping presents. “Noelle’s going to love it.”
Nick’s hand tightens on mine, and when I look up at him, there’s an intensity in his eyes that makes my breath catch. “What if,” he says slowly, “we did more than just watch the parade?”
I tilt my head, confused. “What do you mean?”
He takes a deep breath. “Penelope, what would you say to getting married at the light parade?”
I stop dead in my tracks, staring at him in disbelief. He couldn’t mean what I think he means. “You mean next year?” It’s the only thing my shocked brain can come up with is that he’s proposing a wedding a year from tomorrow. That’s the normal thing people do, right? They don’t up and decide to get married the next day. That would be crazy.
Even as I think that, and my mind starts listing all the things we would need for a wedding, all the time it would take—it’s also checking those things off as if they don’t matter.
Finding the perfect dress? Pull one from a magic purse.
Invite friends and family? Grandpa and Noelle are my only two must-haves, and Nick’s family can fly in on a sleigh.
A reception? There’s a light parade—what better party could there be?
Honeymoon? Flying reindeer to take us anywhere in the world .
I’m running out of reasons not to say yes, even as I’m waiting for Nick to confirm that he means next year.
But Nick is shaking his head, a mix of nervousness and excitement playing across his features. And then, right there in the middle of Harbor Street, with curious onlookers gathering around us, he gets down on one knee.
“Oh, my Christmas tree,” I say in shock. My heart is pounding so loudly that I can barely hear the gasps and murmurs of the crowd.
Nick reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. When he opens it, I’m presented with a ring that takes my breath away. It’s white gold, the same color as the wish coin that separated us and made me believe in magic. I don’t think it’s the same metal, because the coin is at my house in my jewelry box. It was the first thing I thought of, though, and I wonder if he wished for the ring and if Christmas Magic thought it would be appropriate considering our situation.
The top of the ring is a cluster of large diamonds in the shape of a snowflake. I’m not going to lie; I love it. I’ve never been one for large pieces of jewelry, but I want this one. I want it so bad my hands are shaking.
“Penelope Caldwell,” Nick says, his voice steady despite the emotion I can see shining in his eyes, “I love you more than I ever thought possible. You and Noelle have become my whole world, my reason for everything. I don’t want to spend another Christmas without you. Will you marry me? Tomorrow night, at the light parade?”
I’m dimly aware of the crowd around us, of their excited whispers and encouraging calls. People have their phones out, recording this moment. I’m sure we’ll go viral just because of that ring. All I can focus on is Nick, the man who has brought so much joy and wonder into my life, who loves my daughter as his own, and who has shown me what true partnership really means. His smile. His beautiful eyes are so full of love for me that it overflows. His strength. His determination to make sure I know I’m loved.
It’s crazy. Absolutely insane to even consider getting married tomorrow night, with no planning, no preparation.
I’m crazy because I want to say yes.
I want to wake up Christmas morning, Mrs. Kringle.
“Yes,” I breathe, and then louder, “Yes! I’ll marry you, Nick Kringle!”
The crowd erupts in cheers as Nick slips the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly as if it was always meant to be there. He stands and pulls me into his arms, and when our lips meet, the crowd goes nuts. They cheer and hoot and stomp, and someone starts singing All I Want for Christmas .
We’re both laughing and crying as we break apart, overwhelmed by the moment and the outpouring of congratulations from the audience we’ve gathered. But before we can say anything more, a strange sensation ripples through the air.
At first, I think it’s an earthquake—the ground seems to move beneath our feet. But it’s not a shake, I realize. It’s more like... a bounce.
And then, in a moment that defies all logic and reason, a soft light begins to glow around us. It’s warm and comforting, reminiscent of the glow of Christmas lights, but somehow more... alive. “I’ve seen this before,” I say, my mouth working faster than my brain. It takes me a moment to connect this moment with the wish I made three Christmases ago. Yeah, it’s the same power, the same tingle over my skin.
I grab onto Nick. “Don’t go.”
“I’m not,” he assures me, but he’s holding me just as tightly. If the Magic is going to take him, it’ll have to take me too. I try to see outside the light to the people who gathered around. No one is paying us any attention. It’s like we’re invisible to them.
Or maybe they just can’t see the Magic.
Nick lifts his one arm out to the side, moving his sweater sleeve a couple of inches up his forearm. I watch in awe as the light concentrates around his wrist, and before my eyes, a tattoo appears. It’s unlike any tattoo I’ve ever seen, shimmering and shifting as if it’s made of pure light. The design is unmistakable—a perfectly wrapped gift, complete with a bow on top.
“Nick,” I whisper, my voice shaking slightly, “what’s happening? What does this mean?”
Nick is staring at the tattoo, his expression a mix of wonder and confusion. “I’m... I’m not sure,” he admits. “But I think we need to get back to the Kringle house. Now.”
The urgency in his voice snaps me out of my daze. I nod, and without another word, we grab each other’s hands and take off running. The Kringle house isn’t far, but every step feels as if we’re racing against some invisible clock.
Whatever comes next, I know one thing for certain—I’m not letting Nick go. Not for Christmas. Not for Magic. Not for anything.
Nick pushes open the door, and we tumble into chaos.