A Miracle for the Reserved Flyboy (Love in Sweet Bloom #11)

Chapter 10

KRISTA

Krista let out a long breath, glancing up at the dark winter sky, twinkling with stars above the town square. Every branch, window, and storefront around her sparkled with Christmas lights, casting a warm, magical glow over the scene. “Lord, give me strength,” she murmured with a small smile as she looked out at the sea of excited faces surrounding her. Thirty kids, all brimming with holiday sugar from endless cups of spiced apple cider, eggnog, cinnamon cookies, and candy canes, bounced around her like tiny, overjoyed pinballs.

Krista took a steadying breath, reminding herself of her role as ringmaster in this merry circus. Gently, she swiped her thumb over each child’s cheek, leaving behind a soft, rosy-pink circle of blush and an extra sprinkle of glitter. The boys sported black felt hats with tall feathers that bobbed as they wagged their heads, pretending their feathered plumes were swords, swiping at each other in mock battle. The girls, meanwhile, wore tulle skirts that poufed out in pink, dusted with glittery fabric paint that gave each little girl a stiff, magical sparkle.

As for Krista, her outfit was a festive triumph of homemade holiday cheer. She wore a cozy gray zip-up onesie, to which she’d stitched a mouse tail. A bright red foam crown sat proudly on her head, pinned snugly in place, while her cheeks held two pink circles, and her nose bore a smudge of black paint. Her mother, who’d volunteered as her assistant for the night, was already dressed as a sparkly, tulle-skirted Sugar Plum Fairy, flitting around the square and passing out encouragement to the kids.

“All right, everyone!” Krista clapped her hands, her voice bright and encouraging. “Boys on one side, girls on the other. We’re going on stage in just a few minutes. Where’s my Clara? And where’s my Nutcracker?”

A little girl stepped forward, dressed in a flannel nightgown over her clothes with bright pink Barbie gloves covering her small hands. “Here, Miss Simpson,” she said, looking up with wide, eager eyes. “Mama said to keep my gloves on because it’s getting chilly.”

Krista bent down to the girl’s level, smiling tenderly. “Your mama is a smart lady, Clara,” she said, gently patting the girl’s gloved hands. “My gloves are back with my coat, and I’m wishing I had them right now.”

The girl shyly held out one of her hands. “You can wear one of mine, Miss Simpson.”

Krista chuckled and shook her head. “Thank you, sweetie, but you keep those on. Your job is to stay warm and put on a great show.”

As the kids lined up in eager clusters, Krista spotted her mother across the square, giving her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Relief washed over her. She glanced around, still hoping to catch a glimpse of Gary. He’d promised he’d be here early, snapping photos for her of the big event. But as she scanned the crowd, her stomach sank a bit. No sign of him yet.

Clearing her throat, she straightened, picked up the microphone, and stepped onto the small, makeshift platform that served as their stage. “Hi, everyone,” Krista began, her voice amplified to the gathering audience, though a little feedback made her wince and adjust her grip. “I’m Miss Simpson, and this excited group behind me is my class. Tonight, we’re so happy to bring you our own version of The Nutcracker !”

The crowd burst into applause, and Krista glanced back at the kids. She covered the microphone with her hand, lowering her voice to speak to them directly. “All right, boys over here, girls over there. Remember, pretend we’re at a Christmas party, and the tree is going to magically unfold! Nobody touch the tree, okay? Please…” Her last word was nearly a prayer as the children surged forward, waving at their parents with wide smiles and giggles. She noticed one little girl’s face fall as tears threatened, her nerves clearly getting the best of her. Krista moved to her side, squeezing her tiny hand to offer a bit of comfort.

In the background, the school janitor, Mr. Munoz, was setting up the wooden tree display. When he was done, Krista gave him a grateful nod as he got into character, slipping into his Drosselmeyer costume. “You’re up,” she whispered to him, nudging him toward the stage.

Mr. Munoz grumbled playfully, his face in a half-scowl. “This is the last time you con me into this, Miss Simpson.”

Krista chuckled. “You said that last year, too.”

He sighed with a reluctant smile. “Guess I’m just a glutton for punishment.”

“That’s why I know I can count on you!” she teased, nudging him forward as he reluctantly clambered onto the platform, lifting a decorated box in the air with exaggerated, theatrical movements as he swayed to the music.

Krista narrated into the microphone, “And then Drosselmeyer arrived at the party… with a special gift for Clara.”

The children gasped in awe, their eyes glued to Mr. Munoz, who twirled in his makeshift costume, playing his part perfectly. The performance was going off without a hitch, and Krista’s heart swelled with pride. But her mind raced as she glanced once more into the crowd, silently hoping she’d spot Gary’s familiar face.

Just then, she realized it was time for the Mouse King and Queen to make their grand entrance. Her dad had volunteered for the part, but where was he? She threw a quick, exasperated look at her mom, who only beamed and gave another encouraging thumbs-up, a gesture that left Krista more confused than reassured.

“Where’s Dad?” she mouthed at her mother, who responded with yet another thumbs-up. Krista bit back a groan, lifting her mouse tail in one hand as she prepared to improvise. But a light tap on her shoulder made her whirl around.

“Hi,” said Gary, his voice soft yet steady.

Krista’s mouth dropped open in shock. There he stood, wearing his own gray onesie zipped all the way to his throat, a foam crown perched on his head. His cheeks bore pink circles, and his nose was smudged with black paint, matching her look exactly. But it was his warm smile, eyes twinkling under the Christmas lights, that made her heart skip a beat.

“What… you’re here?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Always,” he murmured with a smile, holding out his arm. “Shall we, my queen?”

Mr. Munoz, taking his cue, smoothly retrieved the microphone from her hand and continued the narration as Gary led her onto the stage, guiding her to a spot marked with an ‘X’ on the floor. The music swelled dramatically as the scene reached its crescendo, but then… silence.

Krista froze, her eyes widening as she realized the music had suddenly stopped. She moved to step back, panic bubbling up, but Gary gently caught her hand, pulling her close. His eyes held hers, and in that moment, the whole square seemed to fade away.

“I need you to know how much I care about you,” he whispered, his words barely audible over the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “Krista, I think you’re amazing… and I don’t want us to lose what we have.”

“Gary… what’s going on?” she asked breathlessly, caught between excitement and confusion.

“I’m going to be gone for a while, but I don’t want us to stop talking, to stop growing.” He paused, his gaze never leaving hers. “I want you to wait for me. And I know this is a lot to ask, but I want to start with a promise.”

Krista blinked, emotions crashing over her as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Her mind raced, nerves and wonder mingling. “These things have pockets?” she blurted out, and laughter rippled through the crowd around them, but her focus remained solely on Gary, who opened the box to reveal a delicate ring.

“Krista Simpson,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “this is a promise that when I come back, I’m going to ask you to be my wife.”

Her hands were trembling, tears slipping down her cheeks as he slipped the ring onto her finger. She glanced down, seeing the tiny silver mouse wrapped around her finger and let out a soft, tearful laugh.

“I thought it was fitting,” he whispered, his eyes filled with warmth.

“It’s perfect,” she managed, her voice catching with the weight of the moment. He moved closer, wrapping her in his arms under the soft glow of Christmas lights, the laughter of children, and the warmth of the holiday spirit surrounding them.

“I’ll put a diamond there when I come back,” he promised softly, brushing his lips against hers. “But until then, no more dating – blind dates or otherwise… only you.”

Krista’s heart soared as she whispered back, “Only you.”

The evening was coming to a close, and the square had started to empty out, its festive lights glowing softly as families trickled away, waving good night and sharing warm holiday wishes. Krista leaned into Gary, resting her cheek against his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow and steady beneath the layers of fabric. She drew in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of him—a mix of faint cologne and the cool, crisp winter air. This would be her last memory of him for a while, and it would be Christmas tomorrow.

He was leaving soon. She tried not to think about it, but her heart felt heavier with every minute that ticked by. Tomorrow morning, he would fly back to Tyler, return the small aircraft he’d borrowed, and then he’d be gone, on a commercial flight bound for Afghanistan. She tightened her arms around him, as if she could hold him here with her, as if that alone could somehow make time stop.

She spoke quietly, her words barely a whisper, “Is it dangerous there?” She tried to keep her voice steady, but even she could hear the tremor of worry beneath her question. Pressing one ear closer to his chest, she let the rhythm of his heartbeat calm her for a moment, grounding her.

Gary’s hand brushed her back in soft, reassuring circles. “It can be,” he answered softly, his voice calm and steady, “but we do everything we can to avoid that. We’re careful.” He dipped his head, pressing a kiss to the top of hers. “I promise, Krista.”

“And… we’ll write each other?” she asked, her voice almost breaking. She could hardly believe how much this mattered to her, but she wanted to cling to any connection she could. The thought of their letters, emails, maybe even a rare phone call, would have to fill the space between them—thousands of miles apart.

He nodded, his hand moving to gently lift her chin so that their eyes met. His gaze was warm, laced with the same mix of longing and sadness she felt in her own heart. “Of course. I’ll call you when I can,” he promised, “but cell service isn’t always great there. I mostly have to use a landline to call home, which means relying on calling cards.” He chuckled, brushing a kiss over her forehead, lingering there. “That’s what I was up to the other day, actually. Stocking up on calling cards so I’ll be able to call you.”

Her heart swelled at his thoughtfulness, a soft smile curving her lips. “I’m glad,” she whispered, her fingers tracing little circles on the back of his neck.

A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. “But before I go,” he murmured, reaching into his pocket for his phone, “I need to get a few pictures to send to my parents… if you don’t mind. They’re definitely going to want to meet the girl who stole my heart.” He winked, holding out his phone in selfie mode, snapping a quick photo before she could protest.

Krista laughed, scrunching her nose in amusement. They were both still in their costumes from the play, with foam crowns perched askew on their heads, cheeks smudged with pink makeup, and noses dotted with fading black paint. She could see the sparkle in her own eyes in the photo, the glow of happiness that mirrored Gary’s as they gazed at each other, smiling like two love-struck fools.

Click .

“I wasn’t ready!” she giggled, playfully swatting at his hand as he took another photo, catching her mid-laugh.

Gary grinned and pulled her closer, clicking the camera again and again, capturing each silly, joyful moment. “I want lots of pictures,” he said, his voice warm and low, “enough to last me the whole time I’m gone.”

Click .

Another photo.

Click .

His phone caught their beaming smiles, the shared laughter, the mischievous looks they exchanged as she tried to dodge his phone, only for him to lean in, capturing them both in the frame with his arm wrapped around her.

“Gary…” she said, a little breathless from laughing, “you’ve got to stop that!” She couldn’t help laughing as he held his phone just out of her reach, capturing one more picture of her delighted, exasperated face.

“Just one more,” he murmured, his voice suddenly soft, the playful spark in his eyes giving way to something deeper. “Kiss me, Krista.” His tone held a gentle invitation, one that made her heart skip. “Kiss me under the mistletoe, and let me remember this.”

The air between them shifted, becoming electric, charged with anticipation. She met his gaze, her breath catching as she lifted her hands to cradle his face, gently tracing her thumbs along the rough edge of his jawline. “Anything,” she breathed, her words a whispered promise.

Slowly, she drew him closer, her eyes fluttering shut as their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss that sent warmth blossoming through her. His hands slid up her back, pulling her into him, deepening the kiss with a tender urgency, as though he, too, was savoring this last moment, storing it in his memory to carry with him. For someone so reserved, he kissed her with a passion that took her breath away. The world around them faded into a soft blur, leaving only them under the mistletoe, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Her pulse quickened as his lips moved against hers, firm yet gentle, each kiss pulling her deeper into him. They were both fully lost in the moment, as though this kiss, here in the glow of the holiday lights, might somehow make up for the distance that was about to separate them. She shivered slightly, feeling the thrill of it all—the way he was holding her, the way their kiss seemed to say everything their words couldn’t.

When they finally pulled back, Krista opened her eyes, meeting his gaze with a bittersweet smile. “Please don’t forget me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her heart in her throat.

His eyes softened, his expression growing serious. “I could never forget you,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “You’re the last thing I think about when I close my eyes and the first thing on my mind when I wake up.” His thumb caressed her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn’t even realized had fallen.

She swallowed hard, her emotions swirling in her chest. “How long?” she asked, her voice shaky. “Are we talking a couple of months… or years?”

Gary’s expression softened, his gaze steady as he took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. “Months, I promise,” he said, his tone reassuring, filled with tenderness. “Trust me, Krista. I’ve just got to take care of a few things over there, and then I’ll come back. To you.”

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat as she leaned forward, burying her face against his chest. She didn’t care that her makeup would likely leave smudges on his costume; she just needed to feel the steady warmth of him, to listen to his heartbeat one last time. His arms came around her, holding her close, gently rubbing her back in slow, soothing strokes.

For a long time, they stood there in silence, wrapped in each other’s embrace, with only the twinkling Christmas lights around them, the quiet murmur of the few remaining families saying their goodbyes in the square. The air was filled with the promise of Christmas and the bittersweet ache of parting, and Krista clung to Gary, memorizing the feel of him, the scent of him, the warmth and strength of him.

Finally, he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

And even though the night was ending, Krista held onto that promise, holding him close as long as she could, knowing it would have to be enough to carry her through until they could be together again.