Chapter 15 #2
“Yeah,” I say. “My brothers. They wished for their business to take off, and they’ve done really well.
They own Toboggan Tours in town. Not sure I mentioned that.
Martha and Mae both had wishes that came true.
Bob Krampus said Bob Krampus Junior came along after a wish.
And a few others. I know it’s hard to believe, but there’s something about being in Kringle that makes you believe in Christmas magic. ”
“Yeah, I’m starting to understand that.” She looks up at the sky. “Anyone you know who didn’t have their wish come true?”
“Not that I know of,” I say. “Then again, not sure anyone would admit to their wish not coming true.” I let the sounds of people walking by fill the air as I stare at the twinkling lights.
They’re not as bright here as they are on the farm because of light pollution in town, but they’re still pretty enough to marvel at.
“Have you ever seen the northern lights here?” she asks. “I know the last few years, they’ve been visible in certain spots in Colorado. Seems this would be a magical place to see them.”
“Yes, a few times. The town gathers together, we turn off all the lights, and we just sit back and enjoy the moment. No cell phones, no cameras, just our eyes and our memories. It’s been some of my fondest memories here.”
I hear her turn toward me, so I glance to the side.
“Is that what it’s like here? The camaraderie? People helping people? Acting as a community?”
“Yes,” I answer. “It’s kind of like an unspoken rule: You help your neighbor.
Over time, you get to know everyone and their backstory.
Sure, there is a lot of gossip, but that’s what you get with a small town, and the return is so much better.
The friendships I have here fulfill me so much, and not just with Cole and Storee but with people like Tanya, who owns Warm Your Spirits, or Sherry Conrad or even Martha and Mae.
There are inside jokes among the entire town.
There is bickering like family, but there are also joyful moments, like when someone we’ve seen grow up gets married or has kids, like Cole and Storee. We’re just one big family.”
She lies back down, quiet for a moment, before she says, “I’m jealous of that.”
“You are?”
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “I am.”
I haven’t spent a lot of time around Betty, but I can recognize that she seems subdued all of a sudden.
It makes me realize that I know little about her backstory.
Her family, her previous job, her relationships.
Does she have siblings? Is her uncle her dad’s only brother, or are there more Yokels out there?
Is she closer to her mom? What occupation did she leave to come here?
In so many ways, she’s still a stranger to me. But I do know that I want her to experience the true home that Kringle offers. “You know you can be a part of it, right? Making Kringle your home, you can make so much of it. Get to know people—”
“Atlas, you know my situation is different.”
“How is it different? We always welcome new people to town.”
“Granted, everyone has been so nice to me, and I’m really appreciative of that, but when your relative in town is Dwight, it makes fitting in harder.
I know he’s not a favorite among the town, but he’s a really nice guy, and he picked me up when I was .
. . well, when I was at an all-time low.
” Her eyes meet mine. “He gave me an opportunity I’m still not sure I can handle. ”
“I don’t know; seems like you’re doing a good job, scoping out the competition,” I tease, but it seems to fall flat as her eyes remain focused on her lap. Clearing my throat, I say, “So Dwight, he means a lot to you.”
She nods. “He’s the sibling I never had.
When our families would get together, he was the one that I always trailed behind.
He would sit and play card games with me when no one else would.
He’s just . . . he’s special to me. And I know he’s tough to get along with.
Trust me, I’m well aware of that, but I feel bad for him sometimes because I don’t think people give him a chance. ”
Yeah, because he’s a fucking dick.
But clearly I can’t say that to her, especially since it seems like she really relies on him.
“Listen.” I tug on my hair. “He . . . he isn’t all that bad.” I nearly gag on the words. “He’s just . . . he’s not around everyone as much, and he can be difficult at times.”
She nods and then sits up abruptly, letting the blanket fall to her lap. She rubs her hands over her arms and says, “Sorry, um, I think I should go. I’m getting a bit chilly.”
Shit, not the right thing for me to say.
Is she chilly, or are we crossing over to conversational territory that she doesn’t want to be in?
I’m thinking the latter.
But I don’t want to push her; I’ve already tested her enough tonight with the kissing.
“No need to apologize,” I say and then sit up as well. “I’m feeling pretty good right now. I think the alcohol has worn off if you want me to take you home.”
“No, that’s okay. I might grab a hot chocolate, hang out a little bit longer on my own, and then drive back.”
“I can stay with you,” I say.
She shakes her head as she stands. “That’s okay. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
“You say that as if hanging out with you is a chore. Because I need you to know, it’s not. I’ve really had a good time tonight, once we got past some of the awkwardness.”
“I had a good time too,” she says and then looks away.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she sighs, her leg bouncing, her mind reeling.
“Betty, seriously, what’s going on in that head of yours?”
Her lips clamp shut, and she looks anywhere but at me, so I stand as well and grip her chin so she has to look at me.
“What’s bringing on this abrupt change? Wanting to leave all of a sudden?”
She wets her lips, her eyes connecting with mine. “Umm . . . maybe . . . maybe you’ll enjoy a hot cocoa with me before you go?”
Not ready to speak about it just yet?
Okay, not a problem. If anything, I’m patient.
Wanting her to realize that, I answer her. “I’d love that.”
Betty
The guilt I feel around Atlas is overwhelming.
Debilitating.
Like all I can think about is how I’m supposed to be finding a way to put this man out of business. And for what?
Because of some vendetta my uncle has?
I just don’t see the point of it all.
Wouldn’t it be more beneficial if we find a way to somehow work together?
Given all the talk of the community and how they work together, seems like a more intelligent plan.
God, when I had my shop, I would’ve loved to have had a community like Kringle.
A whole bunch of small businesses that relied on each other, that sought help from one another, rallied together.
Just walking around Ornament Park and seeing all the vendors network, it’s .
. . it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.
No wonder the town is thriving, because everyone is working together.
And it seems more productive to be in everyone’s good graces than to go against them.
It’s a conversation I’ll need to have, because when I was lying down on the blanket with Atlas, it hit me all at once: this is what I want, and there is a roadblock in the way. That roadblock is Uncle Dwight.
“Did you know there’s something special about this hot cocoa shack?” Atlas asks as we step to the side and wait for our cups to be prepared.
“What?” I glance at the shack, but it seems like all the others.
He tugs me to the right and then points up.
I look toward the overhang, and of course, there’s more mistletoe.
When my eyes meet his, he’s smirking, and God, I can’t resist it.
I don’t even know what’s happened tonight.
I went from not liking him to awkward encounters to kissing him under mistletoe.
Not sure how that all happened, but here I am, standing on my toes to reach him better as his lips gently press against mine.
It’s short and brief like the others. There’s no holding the back of my head, keeping me in place, or open-mouth action. Just a brief kiss, but it packs one of the biggest punches to the gut that I’ve ever felt. Like a zap of electricity pulsing through me.
It’s been like that all night.
With each kiss, I’ve felt more connected, more desperate . . . more guilty.
“Max, your order,” a man calls out.
Atlas moves away and grabs our drinks; then he hands me one. “Warm those lips up. They’re a little cold.”
“Why? Do you expect to run into one more sprig of mistletoe before the end of the night?”
“You never know where you might find one.”
“Are they hiding in your pocket? Is that how they keep showing up?”
“If they were, we’d have had more than three kisses tonight, that’s for damn sure.”
I feel my cheeks flush, despite the chilly weather.
With his hand on my lower back, he guides me toward an empty bench on the perimeter of the park, offering a stunning view of the lights bouncing off the mountain right behind the river.
“So how did Cupid Christmas treat you?” he asks before taking a sip of his drink.
“Well, I thought I was hanging out with Storee, and instead, I kissed the enemy.” I smirk. “Kind of liked it.”
“‘Kind of’?” he asks, his brows shooting up. “Only kind of?”
“Yes, because I fear if I say that I really liked it, you’ll gloat, and I don’t think I can handle the gloating.”
“I’m not the kind of guy that gloats.”
“Oh please, Atlas.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, you’re right. Best to keep me humble.”
“Something we can agree on.”
“Yes, the one thing.” He sips his cocoa but keeps his eyes on me.
“What?” I say, feeling my cheeks blush again.
“Nothing.”
“No, you can’t get away with that. What were you thinking?”
“Ah, you know, just how when I first saw you, that brief glimpse of time before the Pepsi bottle hit my head, I never would have thought that I’d be sitting on a bench, having a normal conversation with you.”
“Another thing we can agree on, because as you were being driven off in the back of a cop car, I never would have thought that I’d end up kissing you three times in one night.”
“And here we are now. I think some people call that growth.”
“Some people might,” I say as I glance out toward the lights. “So”—I clear my throat—“are there any other activities you take part in during the holiday season?” I ask as I hold the cup of hot cocoa with both hands, keeping my fingers warm.
“I like going to the Christmas Kringle competitions. I think those are fun. We do ice-skating out on the farm, so when I’m not working, I like to take a few laps around.
Breakfast with Santa is enjoyable, because I like seeing Bob in his element.
He really is one of the best people. The way he speaks with the children and asks for their names before they sit down so he can play the part.
I don’t sit down to eat, but I volunteer. ”
He volunteers? God, is there anything else that he might want to tell me to really dig the dagger of guilt into my heart?
“There are some snow castles I like to go look at up in Breckenridge. Have you seen them before?”
“Oh my gosh, yes. We went a few years ago. They were amazing.”
“My mom and I have gone a few times. One year, we were able to drag Cole along with us, which was surprising. He was fascinated by how they were engineered. Even got a picture of him examining them.”
I chuckle. “I could see that. He seems like the kind of guy—oh hey, is that Cole and Storee over there, hanging an ornament on the tree?”
Atlas looks out toward the tree, and I catch the smile that tugs on his lips. “It is. Surprised that Cole is participating.”
“Let me guess, not something he used to do before Storee?”
He shakes his head. “No, he thought it was stupid and childish. Though he was in a very dark place for ten years, so I’ll give him a break.
Glad to see him finally starting to live again.
It’s great seeing him as a father, as a husband.
Seeing him smile and laugh again. It was something I missed.
That night when he lost his parents, the light vanished from his eyes.
Storee and the girls have slowly brought it back. ”
“It’s sweet, seeing the way you care for him.”
“Truly, the brother I always wish I had,” he says.
And that speaks volumes.