Chapter 4
Leif
ONE YEAR LATER
“Welcome to the Mistletoe Market!” says the spritely elf to the family in front of me.
I register green velvet and stripes guarding the door, but other than that I’m not paying too close attention. My senses are flooded with holiday music, jingling bells, and the scent of cinnamon coming from the little food area next to the entrance of the Quince Valley town hall.
And I’m scanning the crowd inside like I do everyplace I go now that I’m back in Quince Valley. Just in case.
When I reach the elf, they thrust me a leaflet.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the piece of paper.
I might be one of the few people down here who’s going to scrutinize this list of vendors—my goal is to get all my Christmas shopping done in one fell swoop.
I meant to study the website before I got here, but had to take my Grandpa’s wife Connie down to her aqua-size class.
A green hand lowers onto the paper before I can move on. “Now wait just a minute,” the hand’s owner says.
I look up into the elf’s face for the first time. Then I grin. “Hey, Carla.”
“Eek!” Connie’s BFF throws her arms around me, waggling side to side with impressive strength. But that tracks since she’s a seventy-something yoga enthusiast who taught me how to downward dog when I was twelve.
Carla finally lets go and appraises me with one squinted eye. “You look more handsome every year, little Leify!”
“Uh, thanks?”
“I missed you last year!”
“I couldn’t stay for Christmas, unfortunately. Busy with school.”
“Your father was pretty upset about it.”
I brush off the mix of guilt and annoyance at that. Dad doesn’t get to be upset about that. He missed enough important events throughout my childhood. “I’m staying longer this year.”
“How are your parents enjoying their retirement?”
“They’re barely retired,” I say. “Both of them sold their stakes in their businesses but they’re still doing consulting.”
She must catch the hitch in my voice, because her eyebrows slant sympathetically. “Well, it’s the holidays now. They’re going to have to sit still for at least a day or two! You too. I hear you’re up for some award at school?”
“More of a grant,” I say.
When Carla asks to learn more I give her the very brief version. I’ve recited it so many times, my gaze wanders as I explain the work.
She’s not here. She’s in New York.
After last year, I told myself I wasn’t going to look her up. There was no point.
I lasted a week. I didn’t internet stalk her or anything, but every now and again while I was doing research, I’d slip her name into the search bar.
The last time I checked was a couple of months ago.
Her name had popped up on a Juilliard alumni blog: A Christmas Present welcomes Noelle Pritchard in a leading role… .
I’d been thrilled for her. Even though we’d only spent a night together, we’d packed a lot into it.
Since graduating, I learned she’d yet to get a role with more than a couple of lines in any major production.
She’d taken a job working as a stage manager and ended up loving it, but she still wanted to pursue acting.
“I told my mom I’d be on Broadway one day,” she said. “I promised her.”
Now she’d gotten a leading role in a play at a small theatre in Brooklyn. My chest had swelled with pride.
Then I read the part about how it was set to run all through the holiday season.
She wouldn’t even be back in Quince Valley this year. Even if she made it for a few days, she’d probably be with some new guy. A leading man. She was beautiful and funny and…perfect, in my mind. Not a nerd bent over a desk like me.
Still, as I wander into the crowded market, I look over everyone who looks to be approximately Noelle’s general height and size. Just like I’ve been doing all day.
“Leif?”
I turn, my breath hitching. But it’s not Noelle beaming at me—it’s another of Connie’s friends, one whose name escapes me, manning a booth filled with mannequins in chunky Christmas sweaters.
“I thought that was you. You’re more handsome every year, I swear!”
I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. It’s like they all read from the same playbook.
“You look nice too. I like that sweater.”
“Oh! I have it in a men’s size if you like.”
I end up buying a pair of ridiculous hand-knit moose slippers, which gets my cousin Enzo off my Christmas list.
“Listen,” she says as she rings up my order.
“I’ll be at your grandmother’s place for book club tonight; I’ll look forward to hearing about your fancy science stuff then.
Also any girl you might be seeing.” She waggles her eyebrows.
“If you’re between girls, may I remind you about my beautiful granddaughter? ”
This is also straight out of the meddling Grandma’s playbook.
“Oh, thanks,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’ve got a lot going on, but I’ll see.”
I’ll have to make myself scarce. I’m not interested in being set up.
I make my escape and head to the snack booth before I run into any more of Connie’s friends.
The market is swarmed with people. Mostly women. But none have shiny chestnut hair and freckles. None grin at me with a slightly crooked front tooth and call me a nerd.
This is so absurd. Even if I did see her, what was I going to do about it?
We live on opposite coasts. Even if we didn’t, I’m way too busy for a girlfriend.
Between courses, my research projects, teaching, and my dissertation, I barely have time to breathe.
I turned down pretty much every opportunity to date this past year because of my lack of time.
But even as I think that, I know I’m full of shit.
I’d have time for her.