A Candy Shop Christmas

Chapter 1

The candy shop and Christmastime went together like Santa and his reindeer, like Jesus and the manger, like Frosty and snow.

In Noel Puckett’s emerald green eyes, one couldn’t exist without the other.

When small enough to sit on her daddy’s lap, he used to nestle an unmistakable red hat with a floppy white cottontail puff on her head and tell her as long as she kept it on, she wore all the colors of Christmas.

“Because of my eyes?” she would ask, smiling.

“Yes, and they are prettier than any jewel in the world.”

Santa hats marked one of the many traditions Noel carried into adulthood.

On Thanksgiving Day, which the calendar flipped to this morning, the hats came out of the box holding them since January, and she proudly donned hers throughout the season.

Of course the sizes changed over the twenty-eight years of her life, but the look and feel remained pretty much the same.

As a child, she wore her Santa hat everywhere: while helping in the family’s old-fashioned candy store, sitting at the breakfast table, studying at her school desk, and even when walking, running, or riding her bicycle around the most magical town on Earth—Beaufort, North Carolina.

The red and gold Beaufort Candy Company sign on the two-story brick building matched the name on the map which attracted people from across the country and beyond to this little slice of coastal paradise, especially during the summertime.

The historic downtown shop, conveniently nestled between Front Street and Taylor Creek, overlooked the waterfront separating the town from Carrot Island, an uninhabited stretch of land also known as the Rachel Carson Reserve known for the magnificent wild horses that roamed freely.

On both the land and water side, a sidewalk paralleled the main road and waterfront where dozens of docks invited boaters from all over to visit.

The deep channel made the area accessible to most vessels of any size, and the waterways that stretched around either side of the nearby visible island created somewhat of a maze through various other islands, marshes, and shoals.

Creeks, rivers, inlets, bays, and sounds all intertwined to create countless opportunities for adventures and lead to the nearby Atlantic Ocean.

The candy shop blended in with many other stores on the outside until passersby caught a glimpse of the colorful window displays on either side of the large wooden doors leading to a place that brought smiles to the faces of children and adults alike year-round.

The red-bricked walls, high industrial ceiling with exposed wooden beams and black piping, antique wooden floors, and decorative barrels, shelves, and display cases filled with thousands of pieces of every type of candy, pies, and fudge the heart could desire gave this place unique character.

At Christmastime the magic reached levels strong enough to power Santa’s sleigh.

Adjusting her own hat this year, the light brown hair spilling out curved around Noel’s oval face and dangled just below her chin.

She wore the red and black flannel pajamas that matched the ones she gave Levi and Laney last night before snuggling on the couch to watch a movie with her two favorite eight-year-olds.

A moment later with the opened box at her feet, she studied the candy shop and remembered how much work today brought.

By bedtime she and her team of elves needed to turn this place into a Christmas wonderland.

In so many ways, year in and year out, this particular morning felt like Christmas.

Last night while the children slept, Noel snuck downstairs and pulled out dozens of boxes filled with decorations as well as those loaded with Christmas candy.

Red, green, white, and gold colored wrapping would replace orange, brown, and burgundy to signify the season change.

The remaining candy corn, pumpkins, chocolate turkeys, and pilgrim lollipops would be moved to a small clearance section in the back corner and would be a colossal hit tomorrow—the best Black Friday deal around, in fact.

Noel called Levi’s and Laney’s names, and seconds later she heard the pitter-patter of little feet running down the stairs playing one of the greatest instruments in the universe—original floorboards that creaked making sounds that echoed off the walls of the otherwise quiet store.

A few minutes ago, she asked the children to wait patiently at the top of the stairs while she checked on some things, which meant fluffing their hats and hanging their stockings because she forgot those final touches last night.

Thankfully, Noel remembered to fill them with goodies which took a little time.

Based on prior experiences, she had a hunch that as soon as she descended the stairs, the kids fell flat on their pajama-covered bellies just above the top step for a peek through the spindles.

However, she knew they couldn’t quite see the front counter from there.

“What is it, Mommy?” Levi asked, running past heavy wooden barrels of taffy and gummies.

When he and Laney rounded the corner and saw Noel sitting behind the counter with a smile on her face and a little Santa hat in each hand, their faces lit up.

“Our Christmas hats!” Laney declared for all to hear although the locked door kept others at bay until the floodgates opened early tomorrow morning.

“Which one is mine?” Levi asked, his stringy brown hair begging for a comb.

“This one,” Noel replied with a grin, sliding it over his head, and grateful it seemed to fit just right while hiding the bedhead sprouts. “And this one belongs to you, Laney.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Laney attempted perfect posture while being crowned like a queen. The freckles dotting her adorable face seemed to glow majestically.

“Is it beautiful, Aunt Noel?” she checked.

“Of course,” Noel guaranteed confidently.

“Both of you look like cute little elves ready for heaps of Christmas fun,” she announced exactly like her dad because Christmas fun sounded much more exciting than Christmas work.

She spoke the same positive affirmations to herself leading up to the big day and even this morning in the mirror when she woke before sunrise.

Instead of building toys in a workshop, they would decorate the whole store and place candy using a planogram she created.

“Do you remember your special treat?” Noel quizzed.

“Christmas stockings,” the two shouted in unison while searching for them like an elf on the shelf.

Not many kids received such a gift on Thanksgiving Day, but the children of the owners of this candy shop always had and always would. Noel pointed at the old fireplace, the focal point behind the register area. If memory served her correctly, her great-grandfather laid the bricks by hand.

“I see mine,” Laney announced while mouthing her name as she read it.

“Mine is right there,” Levi added, pointing his finger.

They each grabbed their respective stockings and dropped to the floor crisscross applesauce style as if accordions made up their lower bodies.

A moment later an assortment of wrapped candy scattered across the hardwood like marbles.

As tradition, one of each Christmas candy that would be put on the sales floor today made up the loot.

“How many can we eat now?” Laney asked furrowing her brow as she tried to recall the amount allowed 365 days ago.

“Start with two, and throughout the day you will have the opportunity to eat all of them.”

“Really?” Levi checked, his eyes bulging as if he never heard those words before.

Noel’s mother always said the kids needed the extra energy for such a busy day of helping the adults.

Noel popped a few pieces in her mouth last night while sorting and placing boxes and even snuck one in this morning.

She sure wished her mom and dad were here, dressed in their silly Christmas attire resembling Mr. and Mrs. Claus.

The way the candy store had been passed down to her so abruptly hadn’t been the blessing she expected to receive one day.

If a positive existed, it disguised itself in the fact that she now spent so much time doing what so many hands once did that it kept her mind occupied.

“Every time the cuckoo clock sounds on the hour, you can eat two more pieces,” Noel reminded the kids.

Levi and Laney glanced eagerly at the old gingerbread house time-telling machine above the mantle. Almost every kid who came into the shop pointed it out in fascination.

“It’s already seven o’clock,” Laney calculated, unwrapping a peanut butter cup and stuffing it into her mouth.

“The first seven o’clock,” Levi added while peeling the foil surrounding a milk chocolate ball.

“A.M.,” Laney said sounding all educated.

“I am glad your third-grade teacher is showing you how to tell time,” Noel noted.

“Daddy taught me first,” Levi shared.

As the kids chewed and swallowed their initial pieces of candy, Noel swallowed a lump that suddenly appeared in her throat.

Fletcher’s hands were the ones Noel missed most. She missed them helping in the candy shop, with the dishes at home, and, most of all, touching her.

Her husband had a way of making her forget all her worries, even on the hardest of days.

He listened to her the same way he touched her, slowly and gently, and as the little hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention, she swore she could feel Fletcher’s fingers tracing her skin now.

“Why do you have that look on your face?” Laney asked perplexed.

Noel’s shoulders shuddered back to reality. “What look?”

“Like you seen a ghost?” Laney explained.

“Ghosts are at Halloween,” Levi snickered. “It’s Christmas.”

“It’s Thanksgiving,” Laney corrected.

Noel chimed in. “In the candy shop, today is Thanksgiving as well as Christmastime kickoff, so you are both right.”

Laney’s and Levi’s eyes smiled widely as they looked up at Noel.