Chapter 28
CHAPTER 28
PENELOPE
I blink awake, the remnants of an oddly vivid dream clinging to the edges of my consciousness. For a moment, I could have sworn I heard the sound of waves and felt sand beneath my feet. My skin was warm in the sunlight … Nick was there, looking dashing in a Hawaiian-themed shirt—the man dressed in themed clothing even in my dreams.
I felt loved.
Christmas nuts! I can’t shake the feeling of him holding me and telling me how much he loves me.
With a sigh, I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my toes curling against the hardwood floor. The house is quiet, save for the soft ticking of the antique clock in the hallway—a family heirloom that’s been keeping time for generations of Caldwells.
As I pad towards the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My chestnut hair is a mess of unruly curls, and there are pillow creases on my cheek. But it’s my eyes that give me pause—there’s a look in them I haven’t seen in a while. A spark of... something. Anticipation? Hope? Longing?
I shake my head, dismissing the thought. It’s probably just leftover excitement from that strange dream. It was all too real, but hard to remember. Every time I try to grab onto a piece of it, it slips through my mental fingers.
After a quick shower, I feel more like myself. I pull on a blouse and a pair of jeans worn in all the right places. As I run a brush through my damp hair, my mind wanders back to yesterday’s encounter with Nick.
I still can’t believe he invited me and Noelle to the Chowder House just like he used to. I smile as I think of the oyster crackers he made sure to have for Noelle and the way he would bring a sippy cup for her. What would he do now? She’s grown out of the high chairs and crackers stage.
The thought sends a flutter through my stomach.
For a moment—just a moment—I had been tempted to say yes. The hopeful look in his green eyes, the warmth of his smile... it stirred something in me I thought I’d locked away for good.
But then the walls I’ve built around my heart over the years sprang up, reminding me of all the reasons why getting close to Nick Kringle again is a bad idea.
I mean, I shouldn’t put myself in a place that brings out the fear in me. Should I? Or should I be challenging my fears and overcoming them? I just don’t know.
I make my way to the kitchen and find Grandpa wearing his flour-dusted apron. It doesn’t matter how many times I wash it; it always looks like it needs a wash.
“Morning, sweet pea!” he greets me, his blue eyes twinkling behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Sleep well?”
I nod, accepting the mug of coffee he offers me. “Had some weird dreams, though.”
Grandpa chuckles, the sound warm and comforting like a favorite blanket. “Happens to all of us. Would you believe me if I told you I dreamed I was in Florida last night?”
I blink. Was that the same beach? My beach felt more Pacific than Atlantic. I don’t even know how I know what that feels like, except that I do.
“I’m heading downstairs in just a minute. Saturday is our busiest day of the week.” He winks.
The mention of the bakery sends a pang through my chest. Grandpa’s bakery has been a staple in Founder's Grove for decades. Not to mention a stable influence in my sometimes shaky life.
“That sounds perfect,” I say, forcing a smile. “I’m sure you’ll have all the regulars and then some today. They know you make the cinnamon crumble bread during December.”
Grandpa nods, somewhat distracted. As we sit down to breakfast, the comfortable silence between us is interrupted by the sound of little feet thundering down the hallway. Noelle bursts into the kitchen, her eyes bright with excitement.
“Mom! Grandpa! Can we go ice skating today? Please?” she begs, bouncing on her toes. “I want to learn how to skate backward.”
I laugh. “Good luck with that. I don’t even know how to skate backward.”
Noelle’s face falls and then lifts right back up again. “I bet Nick knows.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “Wh—why Nick?”
“Nick can do anything,” she pronounces as if it’s a fact.
I shake my head. The girl is enamored with him. He’s Santa’s son; of course, he has charisma and is good with kids. I don’t know why I didn’t put that together before. He must have adopted the kid-ability when he was adopted into the family. That’s why Noelle loves him so much. Santa rubbed off on him.
I feel a little better about things now that I can explain how much Noelle adores him.
“Honey,” I start, trying to keep my voice level, “I’m not sure if ice skating is a good idea. We have a lot to do at the bakery today, and-“
“Oh, let the child have some fun,” Grandpa interjects, winking at Noelle. “I can handle the bakery for one Saturday. You two go enjoy the ice.”
Noelle’s face lights up, and I find myself torn. On one hand, the thought of leaving Grandpa alone to handle our busiest day of the week makes me uneasy at best. On the other, seeing the joy on my daughter’s face at the prospect of learning to skate... it’s hard to say no to that.
“Please, Mom?” Noelle pleads, her golden eyes - so much like my own - wide and hopeful.
I take a deep breath, feeling my resolve wavering. It’s been a while since I’ve had a date with my daughter. And it’s Christmas. “Alright,” I concede, unable to resist the combined power of Noelle’s puppy dog eyes and Grandpa’s encouraging smile. “We can go skating.”
Noelle cheers and races back down the hallway to find her winter gear.
I turn to Grandpa. “Are you sure you’ll be okay at the bakery alone?”
He reaches across the table, patting my hand gently. “I’ve been running that bakery since before you were born, Penelope. I think I can manage one afternoon.” His eyes soften, and he adds, “Besides, it might do you good to get out and have some fun. You work too hard, sweetheart.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. As I clear the breakfast dishes, my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. I don’t deviate from my schedule often, and playing hooky is not on my list of things to do. I’m a rule follower. I like the rules—they’ve never led me astray before. And yet, here I am, throwing caution to the wind and doing something that feels out of character.
But as I watch Noelle bounce back into the kitchen, chattering excitedly about learning to skate backward, I feel a small spark of excitement igniting in my own chest. Maybe, just maybe, this afternoon will be good for both of us.
As I dry my hands on a dishtowel, my gaze falls on the old family photo hanging on the wall. It shows a much younger version of myself, standing proudly in front of the bakery with Grandpa. We’re both beaming at the camera, covered in flour and looking utterly content.
For a moment, I’m transported back to that day. I remember the feeling of absolute certainty that this was where I belonged, that the bakery and Founder's Grove were my future.
With a shake of my head, I push those thoughts aside. Today is about Noelle and her skating lesson. I’ll deal with my conflicted feelings about Nick, the bakery, and everything else later.
I head down the hall to change into warmer clothes and catch a glimpse of my reflection again. This time, there’s definitely a spark in my eyes—a mix of nervousness and excitement that I haven’t felt in years. Strange, but I suddenly feel alive, like a cold draft raced across my skin and woke me up.
Whatever happens this afternoon, I have a feeling it’s going to be an interesting day.
I’m just finishing braiding Noelle’s hair when a knock echoes through the apartment. My heart skips a beat, and I find myself smoothing down my sweater nervously. I don’t know why I’m being so silly. It’s not like Nick would show up at my door on a random Saturday morning.
Noelle and I approach the door, and I hear a familiar voice from outside. “Hello? Penelope? Noelle?”
Noelle’s face lights up with recognition. “It’s Nick!” she yells excitedly.
Well, there went my chance of hiding behind the sofa and pretending we’re not home. I throw my arms in the air .
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I reach for the doorknob and open the door. “Good morning,” I say.
Nick stands there like a vision from Christmas pasts. I could probably count the number of times I opened the door to see him there in an ugly Christmas sweater—no coat mind you. The man is a walking furnace. He’d carry Noelle home in a snowstorm and she’d have flushed cheeks from the heat of him. I used to like that about him.
He’s wearing one of his infamous ugly Christmas sweaters, this one featuring a rather enthusiastic-looking reindeer with Christmas lights tangled in his antlers. Classic Nick. I’m glad some things about him haven’t changed. I think I’d be sad to see him in a button-up shirt or suit.
His green eyes meet mine, and there’s an interest in his gaze that makes my breath catch in my throat.
“Hi, Penelope,” he says softly, a shy smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Hi, Noelle. I hope you don’t mind that I dropped in. Henry said I could come up. I have something for you.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” I don’t want what he’s got for me. I don’t want to have to reciprocate. It’s selfish of me to feel that way and I chastise myself for it.
He brings his hands out from behind his back, revealing a beautiful glass cloche. Inside... I lean forward. “It can’t be,” I whisper. My eyes widen as I take in the details.
It’s a miniature version of Caldwell’s Cottage Bakery, crafted with an attention to detail that takes my breath away. Tiny loaves of bread sit in a minuscule display case, there’s a small chalkboard with what looks like today’s specials written in microscopic handwriting, and in the center of it all, a tiny figure that’s unmistakably my grandfather, complete with his signature flour-covered apron and kind smile.
“Nick,” I breathe, stepping closer to examine the gift and putting my hands over his. Instantly, I’m warm and cozy and happy in a way that makes my whole being feel lighter. “This is... it’s incredible. Did you make this?”
Nick nods, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I thought you might want, well need, it. I wanted to capture the spirit of the bakery and what it means to you so that you’ll always have some of it with you.”
I’m deeply touched by the thoughtfulness and effort he’s put into this gift. As I look up at him, our eyes meet again, and I feel a warmth spreading through my chest. He knows. I don’t know how he knows that the bakery is on its last leg, but he knows, and he preserved a piece of it for me.
Noelle, who’s been watching this exchange with growing excitement, suddenly pipes up, “Do you know how to skate backward?”
Nick manages to tear his eyes from mine. I can tell it’s an effort for him. And, for anyone else, he wouldn’t have done it. Noelle is probably the only person on the planet who has that kind of influence with him.
And I love that she does.
“I can. Why do you ask?” he says to her. He hasn’t let go of the bakery model, and we’re both holding it. Well, he’s holding it, and I’m holding his hands. I close my eyes, loving the contact and the buzz that thrums through my veins because of it.
“Can you teach me?” Noelle begs.
I should stop her from inviting him, but if she invites him, then I don’t have to. It’s a win for me. This gift has blown over my defenses. I just can’t believe that he did this for me. I want to cry and laugh at the same time.
Cry because losing the bakery is inevitable. Even if I quit my job and worked on it full-time, we couldn’t give it the makeover it needs. We’d have to close down for six months, and I don’t have enough savings to pay for it. Grandpa won’t take a loan out against the building. He says it was hard enough to pay off the first time. I can’t blame him.
“I’d love to teach you. If your mom says, it’s okay.”
My eyes fly open. He’s going to make me say it. I swallow. “You should come,” I choke out.
Oh, I am a prideful person sometimes.
Nick’s face lights up with surprise and pleasure. “Really? I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time together...”
I pull myself together and behave. “You wouldn’t be intruding at all,” I assure him, surprised by how much I want him to say yes. “Please, come with us.”
Nick chuckles, carefully handing the cloche to me. “I’d love to go skating with you.”
As I cradle the gift in my hands, I’m struck by a realization. This isn’t just a replica of the bakery - it’s a tangible representation of my memories, my family history, the dreams I once had. Nick has managed to capture all of that in this tiny, magical world under glass.
“Thank you,” I say softly, looking up to meet his eyes. “This is... it’s one of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he says, his voice low and inviting me to lean closer to him.
For a moment, we just stand there, looking at each other. The walls I’ve built around my heart seem to waver. Would it be that easy? Could I just let them fall and fall in love with him again? Or, would I be letting the love that I pushed behind them fall out? I’m not sure what’s back there right now.
“Can we go skating now? Please?” Noelle interrupts, breaking the spell.
Nick and I both laugh, the tension of the moment dissolving into something lighter, more playful.
“Of course, sweet pea,” I say, carefully placing the cloche on a nearby shelf where it won’t get knocked over. “Let’s go show Nick our favorite spot.”
As we bundle up to head out, I catch Nick’s eye again. There’s a question in his gaze. I smile softly, letting him know that I do want him to come even though Noelle was the one who issued the invitation.
It’s a small step, probably the smallest, but the only one I’m ready to take. Nick isn’t pushy—which helps. I’ve dated several guys who push their luck. They don’t get another date. They also didn’t give me gifts that made me want to cry about how perfect they were for me. Even after three years, Nick still sees me and is working to protect my heart from the heartbreak of losing the bakery in the only way he can.
What am I supposed to do with that? Well, for today, I’m going to skate around the pond with it while Nick teaches Noelle how to skate backward. That’s what I’m going to do with it.
And I’m not going to think about tomorrow.