Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
AVERY
His elf…
Unless it was for show, there’s no way he meant to say that. But there’s no one around. No one paying attention to us, anyway. The other couples are busy concentrating on their creations. There are some townspeople wandering around observing, but no one within hearing distance of us.
Unless…he meant it.
“Ninety more minutes,” a voice declares over the speaker in a very dramatic announcer tone.
“Jingle Balls!” I say under my breath, putting my iPad back in my bag.
Thankfully, Matthew constructed the base structure very quickly, and the sugar is holding the cookies together as it should.
Picking up a bag of icing, I squeeze some white onto a cookie brick and lay it across the foundation. Or where the foundation would be if this were a real store. If I hurry, I can get the bricks on quickly; it’ll give me enough time to decorate the murals and the windows, after I install them.
Time ticks by, and all my focus is on what I’m doing. I may need Santa’s magic in order to get all of this done on time if we have a hope of adding all the details to make sure that we win.
“One elf coffee here for you,” Matthew says, placing a cup in front of me. Or I assume that’s what it is, as all my concentration is on making the brick straight. “Thank you.”
“What do you need me to do now?”
“Hmm…” I sit back after placing the last piece and pick up my coffee, taking a sip.
I let the warmth of the drink mixed with the spices of nutmeg and cinnamon calm me.
But looking around the table, my heart rate picks up and stomach drops looking at what there is left to do.
“I have to finish these bricks and do the mural on the sides. I need to install the windows and decorate them. Then there’s the cobblestone street, and the paved sidewalk... ”
“Avery,” he says, taking the cup away from me. “Maybe the coffee was a little too much with how stressed you are. I think you’ve had enough for today.”
“You can’t take that away from me. It’s my emotional support drink. I won’t be able to get through the rest of the competition without it.”
“Avery,” he sighs.
“I mean it, Matthew. I stop drinking coffee and I stop functioning. There won’t be any more decorating.
We’ll lose the competition. We’ll be out.
Our lanterns will get snuffed. Snuffed!” My mind is racing thinking about the domino effect of losing this competition.
Will that be an indicator of how tomorrow will go delivering the baskets to the families?
Will it be a failure? Will I fail Christmas?
“Avery,” he says, a little calmer, gaining my attention, placing his hands on my shoulders. “I know this is the last thing I’m ever supposed to say in this moment, but I can’t think of anything else. I need to you to try and stay calm.”
My attention snaps to him. “You can’t take away my coffee and tell me to be calm, Matthew.”
He doesn’t break eye contact with me as he slowly hands me back my coffee cup. “What would you like me to do? I can’t draw fancy murals, but I can be a bricklayer.”
I take a sip, letting the warm liquid start to calm some of my nerves.
“You aren’t in this alone, Avery. I’m in this just as much as you are.
I appreciate all the planning and prep that you’ve done for this.
Believe me, I wouldn’t have even thought of going nearly as far as this, but you need to let me help.
I want to help.” Matthew pleads with me, placing his hand on my arm.
I take a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the roasted coffee mixed with the spices and milk. I close my eyes and feel myself start to calm. There’s a jazz version of ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’ over the speakers. The gentle hum of the surrounding conversations is like a relaxing tune.
With one last deep breath, I open my eyes. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just so used to having to be in charge that it’s hard for me to accept help when it’s given.”
His hand slides up my arm as he pulls me in for a hug. I move my coffee out of the way at the last minute, nearly avoiding a messy disaster, as I wrap my arms around him.
Being in his arms is like coming home. Like a silent strength I didn’t know I needed.
I don’t know what I’m going to do if he wakes up tomorrow and realizes with the games being over, he doesn’t need me around anymore.
“I’m here for you, Avery. I want to help. Let me help.”
Resting my head on his chest and feeling his warmth around me, I let myself sag into him. “Thank you, Matthew. I would love it if you could finish the bricks.”
He gives me a kiss on the top of the head before pulling back. “So, do you want me to keep going with this all the way around?”
“Yes, please. I’ll start working on the window art and we can install it when you’re done with the front.”
Taking our seats next to each other at the table, we work in peace as we concentrate on our tasks.
I can’t help but glance over every few seconds to see how the bricks are coming along, but find that I am always pleasantly surprised, and instantly calmed, to see Matthew working meticulously to line the bricks up in a straight row.
“You’re doing it again,” he chuckles.
“Doing what?” I force myself to look down at the Santa I’m painting on the window.
“Don’t think I can’t see you looking over. I may not have built a gingerbread house in decades, but I think I can make things straight.” His voice is soft and lighthearted, which makes me breathe a sigh of relief.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I know it’s part of who you are.” He places his current brick and looks over. ‘Wow, Avery. That’s incredible. I can’t believe you did that.”
The window art in front of me isn’t what I would have done if I had more time, but I’m happy with the results. One window is Santa in his sleigh, the reindeer pulling him toward the moon in the starry sky. The second is of children laughing and throwing snowballs at each other.
“Thank you. I always loved to draw, so this is how I stay creative.”
“It shows.”
I’m lost in the kindness of his words and the light in his eyes as my gaze locks with his. I don’t know how he has this effect on me. How he’s able to both give me breath and take it away at the same time. His quiet support and encouraging words are unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
“One hour!” The voice announces again.
“Oh no, we need to pick up the pace!” The rising tension returns to my stomach when I think of how much we have left to do.
“Here, I’m just finishing the last brick on the front. Why don’t we install the windows and then you can move on to your next step while I do the bricks on the back?”
“What about the sides?” I start to panic.
You’re going to do the murals. It won’t need the bricks as much. And like you said, in real life they’re covered by other stores, anyway.”
“You’re right,” I breathe.
And that’s exactly what we do. The windows go in without breaking or smudging. Maybe I did get a little bit of Santa’s magic after all.
Once they’re installed and glued in place with the royal icing, we get back to work on our next task. Since Matthew has finished placing the bricks on the front, he begins on the back while I start placing the larger cookie tiles as the sidewalk in the front.
We work in silence, wordlessly passing each other the items we need as if we’ve worked together a hundred times before.
For the rest of our allotted time, we work in sync as we complete our tasks, creating a cookie and candy replica of his family’s store.
By the time the final seconds are counted down, we’re covered in icing and cookie dust; we’re standing in front of the table with bright smiles on our faces.
“We did it,” I say, amazed.
“We did it,” Matthew repeats quietly.
I look over and find him looking at me, not our creation. He’s giving me a look of such hope and adoration that I want to think that there really is a ‘we.’ It can’t be a coincidence that we work so well together. That the way we just—fit—works. There doesn’t feel anything ‘fake’ about us.
“Avery, I was thinking…” Matthew starts.
“Oh, my goodness, look at this!” a man says, snapping pictures of us and the gingerbread store.
“I’m sorry, you are?” Matthew says, holding me close to his side.
“Of course, you probably don’t remember me. I’m Sam Barrett from the Gingerbread Gazette. We went to school together, but it’s been a long time.” He shifts his camera to his left hand and holds his right out to Matthew.
“Yes, sorry. I do remember you. It’s been a while.”
“Nice to meet you officially, Avery. You’ve been the talk of the town for a bit, but I haven’t had the pleasure.” He shifts his hand to me, and I take it.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
I try not to think about how I might be ‘the talk of the town,’ but between everyone seeing me as the reason Matthew is back in town and the posts on GingerSnap, I can see what that may be.
“Do you mind if I get a picture of you both behind the table?” he asks, pulling his hand back and holding his camera up.
“Not at all,” I say cheerily.
We move to the other side of the table, and I find myself tucked right back to his side.
His arm slides around my waist and pulls me close, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I can’t help but look up at him as I wrap my arm around him, thinking that even if this is only for the shortest amount of time, I’m the luckiest girl in the world.
“Thank you so much,” Sam says, lowering his camera after taking a few shots. “I have to get around and take pictures of everyone, but I’m truly amazed at your entry. If you don’t win, I’ll be shocked.” With a nod, he takes off, leaving us standing alone once more.
“Do you really think we will win?” I ask, not dropping my arm from around him.
“I don’t know; I haven’t seen many of the other entries, but I know that you deserve to. You deserve everything, Avery.”
“I can’t stop thinking about what you said the other day. How you think that we’re on the right path.”
“Yeah, I did say that,” he says with a coy smile as he reaches up and brushes a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
“And I was hoping maybe you’d elaborate. You know, for what that means after all of this is over. This may not be the right time or place, but I hope we have that conversation.”
“I’d really like to have that conversation, too.” He gives my side a squeeze. “I’m, uh, not really one to talk about feelings and all that, but I really like you, Avery.”
“I really like you, too, Matthew. And I know you don’t want to admit it, or tell me how you managed to pull it off, but I know you’re behind those twenty extra turkeys and gifts showing up. I don’t know how you did it but thank you.”
Pink colours his cheeks under his beard. “Maybe you can just thank Santa for that.”
“The judges are coming!” Eric announces, rushing to our table. “I’ve been looking around and so far, you guys have everyone beat by a long shot. The judges are still a couple of tables away, but everyone’s talking about how you guys are a shoo-in.”
“I doubt that,” I say. “I’m sure there are lots of great entries.”
“Sure, but none by a real elf,” Matthew whispers in my ear, making me giggle. Having him so close to me, calling me an elf. Making me think about when he called me his elf…
“Here they come! They’re at the next table!” Eric exclaims.
The next few moments can only be described as one of those many moments where you feel as if time slows down. Your brain can predict what is about to happen, but your body is frozen and unable to stop it.
A person in a black sweater with their hood up and face covered walks behind Eric, bumping into him and making him lose his balance.
His arms fly out in front of him and his legs buckle, no longer able to do anything but try to instinctively get his footing while losing his balance.
Matthew and I reach out our hands, hoping to grab him, but he’s too far away. The table between us is too wide.
All I can do is stand and watch as Eric crashes into the table, using our gingerbread entry to break his fall.
The figure keeps moving and is lost in the crowd as everyone rushes over. Matthew and I rush to help Eric up, making sure he’s alright before surveying the damage.
“I’m so sorry,” he pleads. “I don’t know what happened. All of a sudden I was being bumped and I lost my balance.”
“I’m okay; it’s not your fault,” I say, fighting back tears.
It’s not so much the loss of the gingerbread store, although that makes me sad, but it’s that we instantly went from possibly being the forerunner for winning the final competition to being disqualified.
Looking at the broken pieces of the store, the crushed candy roof and the shattered windows, there’s no hope to be able to restore anything, even if we were able to be granted more time.
“Maybe we can ask the judges for consideration,” Eric says as we slowly help him up. It’s clear that he’s favouring his left side as he straightens with a wince. “I’ll explain it’s my fault.”
“It’s really not necessary,” Matthew says sadly, looking down at the broken table.
“I…ugh,” Eric says, lifting his hand behind his head and wincing.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, checking him over once again. I don’t see anything bleeding, but he’s definitely in pain.
“Don’t worry about me. Worry about your gingerbread store.”
“Oh goodness, what a mess,” McKenzie says, standing on the other side of Matthew. “Such a shame. I guess we’ll never know how you and your little store would have scored.”
“You’d better stop now, or someone will think you’re actually upset,” I say sarcastically under my breath.
“Now that’s not a very elf-like response, Allison,” she says.
I put on a fake smile, no longer caring if she believes me or not. “I’m off the clock, Madison.”
“Hmm...” She flicks her hair over her shoulder and walks off.
“How does she always know where to be?” I ask, watching her as she fades back into the crowd.
My mind thinks back to the location devices we found in our pockets earlier that day, but she couldn’t be involved in that.
She wasn’t near us last night, not until the snowball fight started, and even then, she didn’t get close enough to slip something into both of our pockets.
She certainly wasn’t the one that knocked into Eric just now.
The height and build didn’t match the flash of black sweater I saw before it happened.
“Next we have Matthew Roberts and Avery Geller,” June Williamson says, looking up from her clipboard. “Oh dear, what happened here?”
I look past Eric and lock eyes with Matthew.
I’m feeling all sorts of emotions. I’m sad and angry about what happened to our entry.
I’m upset for Eric being hurt because of someone’s carelessness—or ill will—toward us.
But at the end of the day, I’m just grateful that I’m able to go through this all with Matthew, because the way he’s looking at me right now tells me that no matter what happens with the Yuletide Games, I’ve already won.