Chapter 29 Liam
Chapter twenty-nine
Liam
July
“Remind me to never, ever guide a group again. I’m officially passing off all guide responsibilities to my college-aged employees,” Davis says with a groan.
“Your good looks got you into this mess,” Sydney replies with a mischievous smile. “Stop being so ruggedly handsome, then groups of middle-aged single women won’t request you as their tour guide.”
The group of friends gathered around the table howls with laughter, myself included.
Madison convinced me to join them for Tuesday night dinner at the pizzeria to hard launch our relationship now that the entire town of Noel (and probably the entire county) knows that we’re dating.
Davis shared a horror story of guiding a group of eight women on a kayaking trip down the river over the past few days.
His account made me extremely grateful to work in corporate America rather than owning a river experience business.
Everyone talks about their plans for the Fourth of July in a couple of days—Madison is driving to Nebraska to spend the holiday with her sister like she does every year, and I’m trying to act like a mature, supportive boyfriend and not pout about her impending absence. Even though I feel very pouty about it.
“Hey, why are so many people requesting next Tuesday off of work?” I ask. “I’ve had an absurd number of PTO requests for the Tuesday after the Fourth.”
“Oh, that’s Christmas in July day!” Clara exclaims. “Has Mads not told you about it?”
“Nope,” Madison says with a shrug.
“They’re probably too busy making out to talk about town traditions,” Sydney says, waggling her eyebrows.
Madison rolls her eyes, but it’s my turn to shrug. “I won’t deny it,” I say, squeezing her knee under the table.
“Every year we have a ‘Christmas in July’ day to watch a marathon of Heartmark Christmas movies and brainstorm ideas for the town Christmas Fest,” Clara explains with enthusiasm. “And then we end the day with a huge crawfish boil down by the river.”
“Complete with hot dogs for the squeamish,” Clark says with a hint of a smile as he pinches Clara’s side.
“Not all of us grew up being told that sucking out the brains of crustaceans is a gourmet meal,” Clara retorts. She honestly looks a little squeamish as she says it.
“I’m afraid I’m on Team Clara here,” I say, and she reaches across the table to give me a high five. I turn to ask Madison, “What about you?”
She says, “This will be my first Christmas in July, so I’ll have to withhold judgment until I try one for the first time.”
“This I have to see,” I muse, already imagining Madison’s very loud facial expressions during her first crawfish eating experience. “What time does the dinner start? Maybe I can make it in time after work.”
Beau chimes in, “Why don’t you take the day off so you can participate in the full festivities? We came for Christmas in July last year, so I can keep an eye on things at the factory for you.”
My knee-jerk reaction is to turn down the offer. Breaking away from work isn’t exactly my strength. I haven’t taken a single day off since I came to Noel—including doing at least some amount of extra work on weekends. Also, I normally wouldn’t touch a small-town tradition with a ten-foot pole.
However, the group of people sitting around this table has me thinking it might not be so terrible to change my tune a little. Especially with Madison looking at me so expectantly.
“I would really appreciate that, man,” I tell Beau. “I’m always game for a good brainstorm.”
Clark grunts. “We hardly need to continue with the movies and brainstorm every year. Christmas Fest already exists—we don’t need new ideas.”
“It’s all part of the tradition now, and you know it,” Clara responds with mock indignation. “Maybe Liam and Madison will have some new ideas for us this year!”
“Liam probably does have some great ideas from the famous Christmas markets in the UK—he grew up in London,” Madison says.
Sydney chokes on the bite of pizza she’s chewing, and Davis gives her a hearty clap on the back. “You grew up in London?!” she asks, voice still hoarse from the coughing fit.
“Until I was eight,” I clarify. I give Madison a dagger-laden look, anticipating the next tidbit of my life history she might share.
While these four couples do feel like genuine friends—at least, the beginning of genuine friendships—I still feel hesitant to open myself up to questions about my upbringing right here in Arkansas. I’m not quite there yet.
Thankfully, Madison reads my expression, and she diverts the conversation to Clara’s plan to convince the local bar owner to turn his space into a pop-up Christmas bar similar to the experiences in Kansas City.
This launches a lively discussion of the drawbacks and merits of such an endeavor, saving me from talking any more about myself.
I give Madison a look that I hope communicates, I’ll be kissing you senseless later as a thank you for that diversion.
When she bites her lip with a coy look in her eye, I know she’s accurately reading my mind.
“I need you to know that I don’t hate Christmas. And I don’t hate you,” the tearful woman says, just before the main characters finally kiss for the first time. Snow magically starts falling the moment their lips meet, and they both gasp as they look up at the sky.
Leaning over, I whisper in Madison’s ear, “This is really what this town does for fun?”
She shushes me and smacks my chest, but it’s a half-hearted action.
This is the second of three movies planned for the Christmas in July marathon, and I’m trying to figure out how Heartmark managed to sell these as two separate movies when they’re clearly the same storyline.
They must have some serious wizardry going on in their marketing department.
I convinced Madison to sit with me in the back corner of the back row of chairs in the town hall.
Partly because I’m still feeling uncertain about inserting myself as a member of the community, and partly because I wanted to run my fingers through Madison’s hair and caress her arm in relative privacy.
The town hall has been fully transformed into a Christmas wonderland, which I assume can be credited to Clara.
There are twinkle lights and fake pine garlands strung around the ceiling, a six-foot tree decorated in the front corner, and a small sleigh filled with wrapped presents and surrounded by fake snow.
If this is how seriously they take Christmas in July, I can only imagine what the actual Christmas Fest is like.
Thankfully, there’s a stretch break before the next movie, so we mill around to sample cookies from the local bake club and coffee drinks from Becky.
Well, Madison samples some of the drinks. I scrunch up my nose at the outrageous amounts of syrup and toppings masquerading as “coffee.”
“Don’t be a Grinch,” Madison says, attempting to hand me a sample cup of something labeled Christmas Tree Farm. “Here, this one has rosemary—maybe that will be interesting enough for that refined palate of yours.”
“No, thank you,” I reply to Madison, then turn to Becky. “Don’t take it personally.”
“Best I can do is take it extra personally,” Becky jokes, quoting a popular meme. “I promise we do serve black drip coffee at the booth during Christmas Fest. It’s not all whipped-cream-laden drinks.”
“Now you just need some tea on the menu,” Madison sighs. “My refined palate is so offended.”
Becky shrugs sympathetically. “I’m just not sure how well it would sell. Maybe I’ll try offering a few different tea bags.”
“You should make a drink called ‘The Grinch’ that’s a matcha latte,” I suggest. “Sometimes all you need is a little marketing twist to get something to sell.”
Madison swivels to Becky. “Yes! Please, yes! I’ll teach you how to make them—please, please, please?”
“Fine, fine, we can try it for one year and see how it goes,” Becky acquiesces. “Any other bright ideas, Liam?”
“Well, if you really want to bring the European Christmas market flair to Noel, you’d sell mulled wine,” I say. “It’s only the most beloved beverage at the markets.”
Becky bursts out laughing. “That’s not a terrible suggestion, especially for all of the parents carting their kids around all day. But that would definitely need to be a separate booth from mine. I’ll be sure to bring it up during the brainstorm session.”
Madison makes no move to end conversation and return for the third movie, so I happily stay in the kitchenette as well.
Becky describes the various special events held on the weekends during Christmas Fest—a parade down Main Street on Friday nights, a Rockettes-inspired musical performance on Saturdays, and the event where they pretend to rocket off all the kids’ letters to Santa from a rowboat on Sundays.
It sounds like an impressive display, complete with well-timed fireworks.
“And you really change the pronunciation of the town from Nole to No-el for November and December?” I ask. “Like, officially?”
Becky nods. “It’s an official town ordinance. Clara’s great victory over Clark,” she adds with a wry grin. “Will you still be here in November, Liam? I hope you get to experience it all.”
“I’m not exactly sure what my future timeline looks like,” I say, darting an anxious glance at Madison. For as much as we said we would figure out our relationship as we go, we’ve pretty much skirted around any conversation about our future geographic locations.
I’m torn between my desire to stay close to Madison and the career advancement Holden offers.
Ironically, my apartment in Houston is less and less of a selling point for continuing with Holden—considering I hardly spend any time there anyway.
I never would have thought it would be true, but there’s a growing piece of me that wouldn’t mind staying right here in Noel.