Christmas Cancellation

18. KOL

Chapter eighteen

W e climbed out of the snowbank, brushed off the cold powder clinging to our clothes, and resumed walking toward Broadway. The streets were bustling with people bundled up in winter gear, families and couples who were out and about enjoying the Christmas festivities.

“Looks like the whole town came out to play,” I said.

“It’s always like this around Christmas. Saratoga knows how to celebrate.”

We crossed Broadway and found ourselves at a local market. “Look, the power’s back on here,” I said. “Maybe they’ll get your aunt’s house up and running before we get back.”

Out front stood the city’s Christmas tree, towering and beautifully decorated with lights, tinsel, and oversized ornaments. Nearby stood Santa’s Cottage, outside of which was a long line of kids. They were all waiting to get pictures taken with Old St. Nick himself.

The streets were alive with a festive energy that was impossible to ignore. Lights twinkled from every surface, and the air was filled with the scents of pine and peppermint. We leisurely strolled down Broadway, hand in hand.

Noelle tugged me toward a small shop nestled between two larger buildings. “Let’s go in here,” she said, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

Inside the shop was a treasure trove of holiday items. Everywhere we looked, there were ornaments, trinkets, and knickknacks. Noelle’s eyes lit up when she spotted a tree covered in decorations. She rushed to it, her fingers brushing over some of the ornaments.

“Check these out. These handmade crochet ornaments are adorable,” she gushed, holding up a small delicate wreath. “Look at the detail.”

I picked up a snowflake, examining the intricate pattern. “They’re impressive. You should get one.”

She shook her head, putting the wreath back. “Nah, I don’t really celebrate Christmas anymore. And Aunt Mary’s tree is already overflowing with ornaments.”

“Suit yourself,” I said with a shrug, making a mental note to come back later.

We continued browsing the shop, moving on to a display of nutcrackers. “That one looks like me,” I said, pointing to a nutcracker dressed in a navy blue uniform.

She laughed, picking it up. “It does! You should get it. A little memento of our snowed-in adventure.”

I took it from her, examining it. “Maybe some other time. There are a million shops in this area. Let’s see what else there is.” I set the little guy on the counter, and we meandered toward the door.

After leaving the shop, we found ourselves outside a local toy store that looked like it had been plucked straight from a child’s dream. The window displays were filled with toys of all kinds—trains, dolls, action figures.

“Want to go in?” I asked.

Her face lit up. “Absolutely!”

Going inside was like stepping back in time. The shelves were lined with toys from every era, and kids were running, playing, and shouting everywhere.

Noelle beelined for the section with horse figurines and playsets. “Oh my gosh, look at these. They were my favorites growing up,” she said, picking up a stable set. “I had this exact one. I loved it so much.”

“You were a total horse girl, huh?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yeah. I had every horse toy imaginable. And I loved hanging out in the barn with my dad. He taught me everything about horses.”

I wandered over to the military toys, picking up a G.I. Joe. “I was more into these. My dad got me a whole set for my birthday one year. I played with them nonstop.”

Noelle came over, wrapping her arms around my waist. “That’s cute. I can just imagine little Kol, running around with his G.I. Joes, saving the world.”

I laughed, putting the figure back. “Something like that.”

We moved on to a case filled with Breyer horses. “Oh wow! Look at these!” she shouted, pointing out each breed. “That’s a Morgan. And that’s a quarter horse. Oh, and that’s a thoroughbred. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Impressed by her knowledge and charmed by her enthusiasm, I nodded. “They’re all beautiful. Just like you. ”

She blushed, turning to me. “You’re laying it on thick today, aren’t you?”

I grinned, leaning in to kiss her. “Just stating the facts, ma’am.”

After looking around for a few more minutes, we left the toy store, walking hand in hand, and made our way down the street. Noelle was recognized by several people she knew—friends from school and old neighbors.

“Noelle! It’s been ages!” one woman exclaimed as she hugged her tightly.

“Oh, hi, it’s so good to see you!” Noelle responded warmly.

“And who’s this?” the lady asked with an inquisitive smile.

“Oh…um…Mrs. Norwood, this is Kol. Kol, this is Mrs. Norwood, my freshman biology teacher,” Noelle stammered slightly.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” I said, reaching out to shake her hand. The woman cut Noelle a side glance, beaming brightly.

“Nice to meet you as well, Kol. Will you two lovebirds be staying in town long?”

“Oh, no. No,” Noelle said. “It’s not like that. He’s just a…Good Samaritan who helped me get home when my flight got canceled yesterday.”

I found her embarrassed response funny. Bending down close to her, I brushed a kiss over her cheek and whispered in her ear, “Just a Good Samaritan?”

Her cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red, and Mrs. Norwood giggled.

“Well, it’s good to see you back in town, Noelle. Don’t be a stranger. Enjoy your visit…both of you,” the woman said, looking between us.

“Yes, ma’am,” we said in unison.

As we walked away, I tugged Noelle close. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered; you know that?”

She elbowed me. “Shut up. I can’t help it. I’m not used to…this.”

“This?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She gestured between us. “You know, being with someone. In public, here in Saratoga.”

I pulled her into a hug. “Well, get used to it. Because I plan on being with you in public a lot more.”

She looked up at me. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

We continued our walk, soon reaching a candy store. The sweet scents of chocolate and other confections wafted out into the street, luring us inside. At the front of the store, kids screamed for their favorite candies, their faces pressed against the glass cases. Noelle and I perused the aisles, filling a bag with an assortment of holiday treats.

When we arrived at the counter, I added a box of chocolate fudge to our haul. And as we stepped out of the store, I leaned over, whispering in her ear, “You know, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat fudge again without thinking about last night.”

She coyly looked up at me and gave a little shrug but didn’t say anything.

Next door was a coffee shop. “Let’s stop and get something hot to drink with our candy,” I suggested, steering us toward the entrance.

The coffee shop hummed with noise—animated conversation, merry laughter, and the hiss of steaming milk. We ordered, and I waited for our coffees while Noelle found a table.

The coffees were made quickly, and a few minutes later I was sliding into a booth across from her. She wrapped her hands around her peppermint latte and brought it up to her nose.

“This is the smell of Christmas. Mmm, so good.”

I took a careful sip of mine.

“Caramel br?lée? Really? That’s the drink of choice for a guy like you?” she teased, brows bouncing.

I shrugged. “It’s good. You should try branching out sometime. Not everyone needs a peppermint explosion just because it’s the holidays.”

She relaxed back in the booth, studying me. “Hmm, I thought you liked black coffee. Strong, no-nonsense.”

“Well, I do like my coffee black. But sometimes, a man needs a little sweetness in his life.” Letting the double meaning sink in, I held her gaze.

“Is that so?”

I nodded, taking a sip of my latte. “Absolutely.”

For a while we sipped our drinks, surrounded by the cozy chaos of Christmas Eve. I broke out the candy we’d bought, taking a bite of the fudge. “This is good, but not nearly as good as your aunt’s fudge. Do you think she left the recipe somewhere?”

“I’m sure she did, but the challenge will be finding it among all the—who knows how many—other recipes she has. As you can tell by her home, she was quite the pack rat,” Noelle said, staring out the window at the people passing by.

I stretched my legs under the table, catching her ankle and giving it a gentle nudge.

“So,” I asked, “were you one of those kids who couldn’t wait for Christmas morning? Or were you more of a wait by the fire and pretend to be patient type?”

She laughed, her foot tapping mine playfully. “Oh, I was the worst. Up at four in the morning, ripping into presents like it was a race. My poor parents had to stay up practically all night just to sneak the presents under the tree and be ready when I came flying down the stairs. I think all they got most years was a nap on the sofa. ”

I smiled, enjoying the mental picture. “I can see you doing that. I was more of the wait until everyone else was done opening their gifts so they had to sit and watch me open mine kind of kid. Drove my younger siblings crazy.”

Noelle snorted, shaking her head. “Of course you did that. Always calm, always in control.”

Her attention drifted to the window again. “Christmas was always my favorite time of year when I was a kid,” she said, her expression turning a bit melancholy. “Everything was just so magical, you know?”

I followed her gaze. “Yeah, I get that. There’s something about the snow and the lights that makes everything feel…pure. Like a fresh start.” Then, reaching across the table, I took her hand. “I’m glad you’re having fun today.”

She squeezed my hand, turning to give me a soft smile. “Me too.”

All at once, an idea struck me. I needed to make a quick move without raising suspicion.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, standing abruptly.

“Bathroom?” Noelle asked, eyeing me over the rim of her cup.

I nodded, playing it cool. “Yeah, that’s it. I don’t see a restroom here, so I’ll walk over to the market we just passed. I won’t be long.”

I stepped outside and headed back to the Christmas shop, the cold biting through my coat as I jogged. The tiny bell above the door jingled as I rushed in and scanned for the tree. The ornament Noelle had loved—a delicate crocheted wreath—was still there. I grabbed it, paid quickly, and tucked the little box into my coat pocket before racing back to the coffee shop.

As I approached, I caught sight of Noelle standing on the sidewalk, her back to me. She was facing an older woman who was walking toward her, gesturing animatedly. I slowed down, not wanting to interrupt.

The lady was as round as she was short, dressed in a vibrant purple coat with fur trim. Her white hair stood out starkly against the colorful outfit. I paused, positioning myself to the side and slipping into the background so I could see their faces as I listened in.

“Noelle, darling, it’s been so long!” the woman said, her voice carrying strongly over the sounds of the street.

Noelle laughed, hugging the woman. “Mrs. Dottie! It’s good to see you. It’s been ages.”

Mrs. Dottie stepped back, holding Noelle at arm’s length, her smile wide. “Oh, and look at you! Still as beautiful as ever. My, my, it’s so wonderful to have you back in town. Especially today of all days! I can’t believe it’s been exactly four years already. I still remember your parents like it was yesterday.”

I froze, the hair on the back of my neck standing up. Four years? Parents?

Noelle’s smile faded, her body tensing. “Yes, today…it has been four years,” she said softly.

Mrs. Dottie clucked her tongue. “Such a shame, dear. Such a shame. They were taken too soon, too soon indeed. I think of them often, especially at this time of year. It’s just so sad. Such a tragedy.”

I moved closer, my instincts kicking in. At this point, Noelle was frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. Something was very wrong, but before I could cut in, Mrs. Dottie yammered on.

“And now, with your aunt Mary gone too…” Mrs. Dottie shook her head. “Death is such a cruel finality, isn’t it? I miss them all so much.”

Noelle’s breath hitched, and she clenched her hands at her sides. I stepped up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She leaned into me slightly, trembling .

Mrs. Dottie appeared to notice neither my arrival nor Noelle’s distress. “It’s such a shame you weren’t here when it happened,” she went on. “Maybe if you’d stayed closer to home, they wouldn’t have felt the need to travel so far to see you.”

I stiffened, anger rising in me. Who was this woman to say such things?

Noelle’s breaths were coming faster now, her body shaking even more. I tightened my hold on her, trying to offer some comfort.

“It must be hard to celebrate Christmas after what happened,” Mrs. Dottie continued. “I don’t even know how you manage to be here at all, sweetheart. But you’re strong, I suppose. Stronger than I could be if I had lost my parents so young. Oh, they were such good people. Gone much too soon.” This woman’s voice was really grating on my nerves. “I guess you’re lucky they saw you succeed before they passed, right? At least you’ve got that.”

She reached out and patted Noelle on the cheek. “I’m sure work helps though. Keeps you busy, right? Keeps you from thinking too much. Even so, this must be unbearable for you.”

Noelle remained speechless, breathing fast and heavy. She wasn’t even blinking, her eyes unfocused, and I could tell she was spiraling.

“They’re all in a better place now though,” Mrs. Dottie said with a somber nod. “Watching over you, I’m sure. They wouldn’t want you to dwell on the past, especially not at Christmas. It’s time to move on, isn’t it? Time to enjoy the holidays again.”

Noelle’s shoulders hunched as if she was physically shrinking under the weight of Mrs. Dottie’s words. I tightened my grip on her waist. I couldn’t take it anymore. I opened my mouth to tell Mrs. Dottie to shut the fuck up, but Noelle suddenly pushed away from me and bolted across the street, weaving through people like a woman possessed, her blonde curls bouncing behind her.

“Noelle!” I called after her, but she didn’t stop. Without another glance at Mrs. Dottie, I took off after Noelle. She was fast, cutting through alleys, her pace frantic. But I didn’t try to stop her. I let her run, let her burn through whatever had just been unleashed inside her.

I followed at a safe distance, keeping her in my line of sight.

She ran along the fringes of Broadway until she came to Lincoln Avenue, where she took a left. I kept up, my heart pounding—not from the exertion but from the look on her face before she had taken off. The sheer panic, the overwhelming grief.

I didn’t know what had happened to her parents, but I was familiar with that kind of pain, the kind that made you want to run until you couldn’t feel anything anymore.

So I remained close, letting her do what she needed to do, ready to catch her when she fell.