Just For The Holidays (Home for the Holidays)

32. Teddy

February Fourteenth

T he little rusted Ford Ranger, still battered but not beaten, and a patch-up project in the works—thanks to Carlisle Auto Shop on the edge of town—swings into the alley next to the pepto-pink bakery, and halts.

Teddy shifts into park, turning to Nichol, who's gathering up his messenger bag from the floor between his feet, and reaching for the passenger’s door handle.

“Okay, I need you to close your eyes and wait next to the truck,” he requests with a nervous grin and a golden twinkle—from the rising sun—in his eye.

“Why?” Nichol wings a suspicious brow, peering back over his shoulder.

“Just close your eyes.” Teddy’s door creaks open and he rushes out, around the vehicle, to meet Nichol on the other side. “Take my hand.” He weaves his fingers with Prince Nichol’s and leads the way toward the entrance.

The door jingles as they enter the toasty warm shop, embraced with the scent of fresh baked pastries and brewing coffee.

“Morning Loren.” Teddy greets the dark gargoyle, perched on her stool, with her nose buried in a horror novel.

“Morning,” she grumbles with a forced half-smile.

Teddy offered her job back, after running into each other at the supermarket, and she confessed to not being able to find a replacement job. They're working on her customer service skills.

Business at the bakery has been better than ever, since Nichol got to work creating social media campaigns, promoting Buttercup Confections to all the surrounding towns. They're even reaching Duluth residents who have been making the trip for free coffee and Teddy’s own doughnut recipes—that Nichol insisted he start putting on the menu.

He uses potato-based batters, that create a dense cakey structure he’d experimented in mastering after reading about a shop in Portland Maine, who are famous for the concept. He had mail-ordered boxes for several weeks in a row, comparing his own concoctions, until he had recipes that were just right.

Nichol’s knowledge of design and internet algorithms has turned the new doughnuts into a local sensation. Even making it on the early morning news, when Teddy was awkwardly interviewed by the handsome journalist on his first story for the network.

Teddy positions Nichol at the center of the shop, covering his eyes with both hands.

Katie and Anthony are bracketing the new coffee bar, holding a sheet up to cover the wall behind it, keeping still and quiet, but Max lets out a giggle, hiding both arms behind his back.

“Max?” Nichol queries.

The boy chuckles louder, covering his face.

“Okay.” Teddy pulls his palms away from Nichol’s eyes. “Surprise.”

Nichol pries his drowsy eyelids open, having had no coffee yet this morning.

Anthony and Katie let the sheet drop to the floor, and stand back, smiling. Antony grabs giggly Max and pulls him aside.

A big rustic wooden sign is mounted to the wall. Hand-painted lettering in pink, turquoise, and white, spells out “ Lucky Nichol’s Brew Bar at Buttercup Confections."

Nichol’s eyes squint, taking it in, and his mouth curls into a wide smile. “What’s this?”

Anthony nudges Max forward, who beams proudly and presents a bouquet of wildflowers.

“I had it made, shortly after you created the concept,” Teddy says.

Nichol’s eyes gleam and he turns to Teddy, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s amazing,” Nichol gushes and he admires the sign blissfully.

“Put your bag down.” Teddy slips the strap off Nichol’s shoulder and sets the bag down beside the counter. “I have one more thing to show you.”

He weaves his fingers with Nichol’s again and leads the way out the door.

“Where are we going?” Nichol asks.

“You'll see, just follow me.”

They walk the sidewalk, down the block and around the corner, behind the row of buildings along Main Street and Teddy stops at a door, next to Gretchen’s bar. He gathers keys from his pocket and twists the knob open, pulling Nichol inside a narrow staircase.

They climb two stories, until they’ve reached a landing at the top of the building. Light pours in through a large paned window, on the brick wall, next to an old steel pocket-door, that slides on a rail and opens into a large industrial space.

A kitchenette sits to the left, lining the exposed brick wall with two more paned windows, matching the one in the hall, shedding golden sunlight into the room. The futon from the bakery office is in the center of the space, facing a modest screen television and bracketed by two new recliners, with a wood-framed canopy bed tucked into a far corner and draped in white linens.

“What is this place?” Nichol’s eyes float around the studio, gazing up at high ceilings with exposed beams and then the plank wood floors, dinged with age but freshly varnished and sheen with warm sunlight.

“My new apartment.” Teddy beams. “Gretchen offered it to me a while back, and now the bakery is doing well again, I can afford it.”

“It’s amazing.” Nichol is in awe.

“Ours… If you're interested?” Teddy swallows the lump in his throat and waits nervously for Nichol’s reaction.

Nichol’s pupils dilate and he stares at Teddy, silently, then grins. “Of course I’m interested.”

Teddy exhales, cupping Nichol’s jaw with both hands, leaning forward, and pressing their lips together. “I was hoping you would say that,” he says, between pecks.

Nichol’s face wrinkles.

“What’s the matter?” Teddy worries.

“You did so much.”

“Happy Valentine's Day?” Teddy smirks, tentatively.

“All I got you is a card and some chocolates,” Nichol’s cheeks flush.

Teddy laughs, tossing his head back. “Perfect!” he chimes.

“I suppose I’ll put out too.” Nichol’s lips stretch into a crooked grin and his eyes narrow, wrapping his arms around Teddy’s neck and moving in for a kiss.

“Mmm . . .” Teddy growls. “That’s all I ever want.”

Nichol pecks his lips again. “I can pay half the rent too,” he giggles.

“My lucky Nichol.” Teddy beams, wrenching the charming Prince in tight.