Santa Loves Curvy Girls

28. Belle

28

BELLE

I sat at my favorite booth inside Cocoa Corner, the same one Santa and I had shared, a cup of hot cocoa in front of me. Even though it was my favorite drink in the world, I could hardly stomach it. Being here brought up too many happy-turned-painful memories, which I hadn’t realized until sitting down.

I sighed and stared out the window. A cute couple walked past, hand in hand. So much for my wish. Maybe some people got to have that sort of thing and others didn’t.

It had been a couple days since I’d handed Mom the letter, and so far, nothing. Pretty sure Mom was already tired of me asking her if she’d heard back yet, only to answer and say she hadn't.

But as I sat here, in this place where he once made me feel so special, a new fear washed over me… What if he’d already moved on?

I hadn’t seen or heard from him since Christmas, as Santa or his real self. But while I’d been spending all this time mourning what could never be, maybe he hadn’t thought of me at all. That ate me up almost as much as knowing he could pass by me on the sidewalk without me ever knowing.

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I had even done the right thing by sending the letter. Even if the committee said it was okay, would he want me to know? And if they said okay and he didn’t come forward… I didn’t want to think about how that would feel. It was too late to go back now.

I got up and went to the restroom, thinking it was probably time for me to go home. Maybe start baking the next batch of cookies for Scrooge. If word got around, who knew? Maybe I could have a few more customers like him.

Not too many since I still had school, but the idea of socking away money for a future bakery really lit me up. That’s what I had to hold on to, as much as it hurt to remember everything that had happened. Even if it had led to this.

When I got back, I was surprised to find a letter next to my still-hot cup of cocoa. I glanced over at the counter, seeing one of the owners of Cocoa Corner, Jack Lumi, wiping down the espresso machine.

I went over to him, holding up the crisp, creamy white envelope with a bump in the middle. It felt expensive. “Hey, is this from you?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. I was in the back.”

“Hmm,” I said, looking around the shop. Everyone there seemed to be involved in their own conversations or computers.

I glanced down at the envelope again, turning it over to see if there was a return address or something as I walked back to my booth. But as I sat down, all I saw was “Belle” on the front in curling black calligraphy.

I wondered what was inside just as much as I wondered who left it.

I peeled back the envelope flap, finding a silver sleigh bell in there. I turned it over in my hand, hearing the soft, metallic tinkle of the bell. Setting it in front of me, I pulled out the letter inside.

It was just a small card, telling me to be at Cider Center in front of the Christmas tree at 3 p.m. today.

My brow furrowed. It didn’t say why or who this was from. I checked the back of the card. Nothing.

I looked around the shop again, but I didn’t see anyone watching me.

This was odd.

Then it dawned on me.

The letter I’d sent to the committee. Had they gotten it? Was this their response?

Were they going to meet me and let me know their decision?

I checked the time. It was 2:47 p.m.

I could be there in just a few minutes if I left now.

My heart rate sped as I got up from my booth, slipping my coat back on. The door to Cocoa Corner closed behind me with a soft ding. It almost matched the ding of the sleigh bell in my hand.

My heart raced even faster as I walked to the Cider Center, wondering what would happen, who would be waiting for me there.

Some old gentlemen who were part of the committee maybe? Another note? What would they say? I braced myself for disappointment, someone waiting to let me down easy, despite the hope fluttering in my chest.

I could hardly think straight, but in just a few minutes, I was there.

Cider Center and Garland Mall weren’t super busy, with just a few people milling around. Some kids ran and played near the tree as they made their way to the mall with their parents.

I glanced around, wondering who or what to look for. So far, no one seemed to be waiting for me.

I checked the time again. 2:58 p.m.

There was a large bench nearby, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sit and wait.

Instead, the star at the top of the tree caught my eye. I locked my gaze on it, going back to the moment when I’d made that wish a couple weeks ago.

I had probably asked for far too much. Now, here I stood again, heartbroken. Maybe it would be mended by the time I stood here again next year. Or maybe I should learn my lesson and not make a wish at all.

“Belle?” I heard.

I spun around at the sound of my name behind me.

The sleigh bell was still in my hand. It made a sound as I faced the person who had called my name.

My eyes went from his face to the sleigh bell in his hand in less than a second.

He held it up. It made a gentle ringing sound.

I did the same, not believing who stood in front of me.

Nick St. James smiled and took a step toward me. “I can’t believe this.”

“Nick?” I said, in shock. Nick St. James had been the boy behind the beard? The one wearing the Santa suit this whole time?

“It’s me,” he replied.

It didn’t make sense. The most popular guy in school? He was the one I’d been talking to this whole time? The one who’d kissed me? His voice was familiar, but his eyes?

His eyes said it all. They were the same sparkling blue eyes I’d gotten to know so well.

“I’m guessing the committee got my letter after all,” he said, pulling an envelope out of his jacket pocket. It looked just like the one I had in my hand.

“You wrote a letter?” I managed. “So did I.”

His grin got even wider. “Really?”

I nodded, realizing there were tears in my eyes. “Yeah.”

He closed the gap between us, brushing my hair out of my face. “I had to do something. I couldn’t let you go.”

I smiled at the familiar gesture. “I missed you,” I said, blinking back tears. He had been thinking about me too.

He blew out a breath, making fog rise in the air. “I missed you too.” He paused, then went on. “What about the suit and beard, though?” he asked. “Do you miss that?”

I laughed, taking in his appearance without the red velvet suit and realistic white beard. From his blonde wavy hair to his thick coat and blue jeans. The slight pink in his cheeks from the cold. “You did pull off that long beard pretty well,” I quipped.

He took my hand. “Maybe I can talk the committee into letting me borrow it sometime.”

Then he bent down and kissed me. His lips were warm, his nose cold as it brushed over my cheeks. His arms wrapped around my waist, and I easily settled my hands on his shoulders. My heart fluttered as my body remembered our kiss outside the theater. This was him. It was really him.

I smiled up at him in awe. “So, the committee decided to grant you an exception?” I asked.

“Maybe they saw what I did. That I wanted us to be a part of the magic.”