Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
MATTHEW
“So, tell me more about your work.” I take another sip of my coffee, hoping that I’ll be able to successfully distract her from any more talk about the town. Being home the last few days, and then thrown into being part of their gingerbread party, has been almost too much to handle all at once.
“Busy,” she says, wrapping her hands around her teacup. The steam carries the scent of peppermint over to me, making me see just how fitting it is that my little elf drinks tea that would taste like candy canes.
Woah, my elf?
“I’m surprised you have the time to—help me out—with it being so close to Christmas and all.”
A genuine smile crosses her face. One of the ones I know is reserved exclusively for me. Or, at least I’m the only one in town she’s given this smile to so far.
“Believe it or not, elves are allowed to clock out,” she chuckles. “But it’s good. In fact, today was a really good day.”
“Oh, yeah? Tell me about it.”
And there it is. That smile of hers. The one that reaches her eyes and makes a hint of pink touch her cheeks. It’s the one that makes my heart have a weird rhythm and causes the butterflies in my stomach.
"It was just the best. This morning we had our annual toy drive. Every year we work with the biggest hotel in town to collect toys and donations to give out as gifts for the holidays. We have live music, Santa and Mrs. Claus walking around, and everyone who donates is welcome to a big buffet breakfast. We even got the Ice Queen and her sister to come this year to entertain the kids. Normally, we get a good chunk of toys as a final push for our supply for the season, but this morning was next level.”
Despite her smile, a slight tear escapes from the corner of her eye. I don't resist. Reaching across the table, I wipe the stray tear, taking an extra moment to caress her cheek.
"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm getting so emotional."
"Because you care.”
"Anyway,” she continues, acting as if her display of emotion hadn't happened.
I retract my hand, letting it rest on the table in front of me.
“People were lined up around the building before we opened the doors. There was a mound of toys, and we could barely keep up with the food and coffee to thank everyone for braving the cold and snow. It was so amazing to see the city come together to help those that would otherwise go without. We even had some prominent businessmen pledge to support multiple families on their own. It was quite incredible.”
There was a time when I thought I was different.
That I was immune to feeling like I needed to embrace anything to do with the Christmas spirit.
But sitting across from Avery now, seeing the joy on her face knowing what she's doing is going to bring so much happiness to so many people, I realize that maybe I got it wrong.
Maybe everything I associate with the holiday that's negative is really just also a way to ignore the positive.
Nothing about what Avery does has to do with making money or competing to be the best in some made up competition.
Instead, she uses it to bless others and make someone's life better.
"You are truly incredible, you know that?”
A blush tinges her cheeks. "I'm just doing my job; I can't take credit for it."
I sit back and watch her for a moment, cradling my coffee mug so I don't do something like taking her hand or brushing the stray strand of hair that has fallen in her face behind her ear. "I'm sure you could. Let me guess, you were highly involved in the organization of the event.”
“Well, yes…”
“And you were the first person there and the last person to leave,” I continue.
“I mean, there were people already at the hotel cooking when I got there.” I narrow my eyes at her. “Okay, yes. I was the first person from C.O.C.O.A. there and the last to leave. But I needed to make sure that everything was just right, and it was ready for everyone else to show up.”
“So, you did all of that, put in the full day, and still drove out here to enter into a toboggan race with me?”
Guilt doesn’t just creep in when I realize how much she’s done today, it floods in. I can’t imagine having the day she’s had and still sitting across from me like she had the most leisurely day ever.
“Of course, Matthew. I promised I would be here, and I am.”
My gaze drifts out the window. The sky is black, lit up only with the constellations and the bright moon.
The streetlights have come on, as have all the multicoloured twinkling lights of Christmas.
Was the sky just as dark when she left for the hotel this morning?
Was she able to go home and have a break before she felt obligated to drive out here to race down a hill with me.
“Hey, are you okay?” Placing her hand on mine, her voice is soft and laced with concern.
“I don’t deserve you,” I say honestly, looking into her bright blue eyes.
Her mouth opens with a response but is halted when Nancy walks up to our table, holding our plates.
“Here’s your food,” she says, gently placing the plates in front of us. “Let me know what you think, Avery. I know we can’t compete with the big city, but I think we do pretty well.”
“I’m sure it’s delicious. Oh my, look at that topper!”
We both chuckle at the picks sticking out of her fully stacked sandwich, both adorned with a small plastic gingerbread man. She also wasn’t lying about it being delicious. The smell of bacon mixed with the poutine’s turkey gravy and cheese makes my mouth water, and rethinking my ordering choice.
“You didn’t think we’d leave it out of everything, did you? I’m pretty sure Cal would revoke our business license if we didn’t include a little gingerbread in everything.” Nancy jokes but becomes serious when she sees our stunned faces. “I’m joking—mostly. Let me know if you need anything else.
Nancy walks away, leaving us alone once again. I can’t take my eyes off Avery as she stabs her poutine with her fork, making sure to cover the fries with both gravy and cheese before bringing them to her mouth.
“Oh, my goodness, this is good.”
“You can’t really go wrong with anything from here. It’s honestly the only thing I ever missed from home.”
Home.
The dreaded word reminds me that I don’t live in Gingerbread Grove and neither does she. This is all just a lie until I can go back to Vancouver and end things quietly, going back to a world where I don’t know this little elf and the magic she truly brings to the world.
Well doesn’t that sound depressing.
We begin to eat our meals in silence, but I can’t help but notice the way she makes little happy noises when she takes another bite of her poutine, or the way she does a little dance in her seat when she tries her sandwich.
“Am I doing it again?” she asks, putting her B.L.T. down and wiping the side of her mouth with her napkin.
“Doing what?”
“My food happy dance. I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I know it’s embarrassing.”
My head rears back. “Who would have ever told you it was embarrassing?”
“Maxwell,” she says, looking down. “He hated when I did it, but sometimes I honestly don’t know that I am. I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”
“Hey,” I say, reaching across the table and lifting her chin with my finger. “You do as many happy dances as you want. Don’t listen to him. He was just jealous that he could never find the same joy in life that you do from the little things.”
How do I know this? Because I’m jealous I can’t find that same joy. Except the difference is I would never ask her to dim her light to make me feel better.
“Do you really mean that?” There’s a desperation in her voice that I haven’t heard before.
It gives me a glimpse into the fact that maybe she’s a little more broken than she lets on.
She’s really good at putting up a front and letting the world know that she’s okay.
To be the jolly elf that she needs to be.
But I want her to be real with me.
Only me.
“I mean it, Avery. I’m sorry that Maxwell ever made you think that you should be anything other than the authentic you.”
The corner of her mouth raises in a weary smile. “Has anyone ever told you how amazing you are Matthew Roberts?”
“Not recently, Avery Geller.”
“Then let me be the first to remind you.” She takes my hand from her chin and laces our fingers together on the table. “So tell me, as I finish up this amazing dinner and prepare for the cheesecake, what’s next on the Gingerbread Grove Yuletide Games.”
I sigh, pulling my phone out of my pocket without letting go of her hand. I’m not sure how we’re going to finish our meals one-handed, but I’m prepared to try if it means not losing the connection we have.
“According to the schedule on the town’s website, which needs updating—badly—tomorrow afternoon is the snowman building competition. They’ve titled it ‘The Frosty Showdown.”
“That sounds…serious.”
“Oh, it is,” I say, placing my phone screen-down on the table.
As I was clicking through for the schedule, I noticed some emails from clients and texts from Mitch asking about updates on the project I should be working on.
The one I had planned to work on here at the diner, alone, after the toboggan race.
But after the high of winning and my kiss with Avery, I wasn’t ready for my night with her to end.
So what if it means I’ll be up all night and need to rely on coffee to open the shop again tomorrow morning? Every minute is worth it.
“How serious are we getting with the snowman? Is it themed? Any rules? This is so exciting!” She’s doing her dance again, but this time, there’s no hiding her light. She’s letting it shine, and I love it.
“No rules that I’m aware of. I don’t know, don’t you just roll snow and put a face on it?”
She stops her happy dance. “You can’t be serious.”
“I…am?” It comes out more of a question than a statement.
She stares blankly at me before giving my hand a squeeze. “We can make a regular snowman and jazz it up a bit with accessories. We can try for funny, artistic, a rendering from a favourite Christmas story…”
“All with…snowmen? I don’t know how artistic you think I am.”
This causes her to chuckle. “You don’t have to be that artistic. It’s all about making it come from the heart.”
Great, not sure I can do that, either.
“Hmm…okay, I’ll brainstorm tonight.”
I pop a fry into my mouth before flipping my phone back over—ignoring the quickly multiplying messages—and pull up the website again.
“Then later this week there’s the snowball fight, and on Friday is the finale with a gingerbread competition.”
“I have so many questions.”
“Shoot,” I say, regretfully withdrawing my hand from hers once I realize there’s no way I’m going to eat my burger one-handed.
“Snowball fight? Like for real? Last-man-standing type stuff?”
“I have no idea. It doesn’t say.” I scan the schedule again. “The Snowball Smackdown? They can’t be serious.”
Avery laughs so hard she snorts. Her hand covers her mouth so all I can see are her widened blue eyes, but her shaking shoulders tells me she’s still thoroughly entertained by the ridiculousness of these games.
“The Snowball Smackdown? Is this for real?”
“Oh, I assure you, it is,” I huff.
“And the gingerbread house competition?”
I groan, skimming the description. “Extreme Gingerbread: Home Edition. ‘Our annual Yuletide Games will conclude with our famous Gingerbread House competition. Contestant couples will display their hard work of edible renderings of what makes Gingerbread Grove such a unique and special place.’”
“We’re supposed to replicate something from town? In a few days?”
“Is that…a lot?”
Her fork drops to the table, clanging against the side of the plate as she looks at me in disbelief. “No, that’s not nearly enough. We need to plan, prepare, strategize.”
“I mean, how hard is it to build a gingerbread house?”
I realize my mistake as soon as I finish uttering the words.
“Matthew!” Nancy says, coming over, most likely to inspect the clatter. “You don’t honestly think that, do you?”
“I mean…”
Great, how do I backpedal from this one?
“Oh, there are so many things you could do!” Nancy exclaims, clapping her hands together. “There’s the city hall, the gazebo in the square…”
“The diner?” Avery suggests with a wink in my direction.
“Nah, too nondescript,” Nancy counters, tapping her lip with the pen in her hand. “I know! How about the town hall? I just can’t believe you haven’t started yet. Getting the supplies alone has taken some of the couples weeks.”
Fantastic.
“Oh, it’s not his fault, Nancy. We were a late addition. We didn’t even know if we were going to make it here in time. We’ll sort it out, don’t you worry,” Avery says, giving me a wink.
Great, she saved me…again.
“I believe you. Well, I’ll leave you to your dinner and strategizing,” she says with a chuckle as she walks away.
“We don’t really need to put that much thought into this, Avery. I mean, winning the games was never part of the plan.”
“Maybe not, but now that I’ve seen the town and how, uh, competitive some people can be. I think we really need to put our best foot forward.”
“But your job…you’re too busy. I couldn’t ask you to. Especially so close to Christmas.”
“You’re not asking. Plus, everything here is after hours, anyway. I mean, unless you don’t want to.” She looks down, stabbing a cheese and gravy smothered fry with a fork.
I feel a little like that fry right now. Poked and prodded for information on my life from the townspeople. Smothered by my mother and responsibilities of coming back to run the store.
But looking at Avery now and thinking back at our time tonight, finishing the rest of the events might actually be…fun.
But then there’s the issue of the games themselves. The events. The people. The holiday.
Before Avery, this would have made me grab for the closest paper bag and inhaling like the popular Sheldon gif. But instead, I feel oddly…calm.
Against my better judgement, I take a deep breath and reply, “You know what? Let’s do it.”
Avery glances up from her plate, and the look on her face tells me I said the right thing, even if it might be at the expense of my sanity.