by Krista Lakes
“You know it,” Molly replied with a smile for her mom. “Thanks for letting Liam have lunch with us.”
“Oh, please. Liam is never a problem for me. He’s the sweetest child I’ve ever known, and yes, that includes you too,” Mrs. Carmichael teased. “But I suppose it’s always a little harder to wrangle your own child.”
“That's what I'm told,” Molly replied. “Sorry for running out on dinner last night. I had to do something.”
“Something to do with Christmas Wishes? Or something to do with Nicholas Kerstman?” Mrs. Carmichael asked calmly. She looked over at her daughter and winked. “Or perhaps something to do with both?”
“Wait, what? How did you know?” Molly was taken aback by her mom’s insight. She didn't try to deny it, though.
“You’re my baby, Molly. I’ve always been able to read you like an open book,” Mrs. Carmichael told her. “And even though I didn’t have all the tiny details fleshed out, I knew that there was something different going on with you. Something different, but good. And when Nicholas ran out the door right after you left, well, I figured there was something going on between you two.”
“I'm not sure...” Molly mumbled, but her mother didn't seem to hear her.
“Although, I’d never imagined you with a man like Nicholas. He seems so serious about everything,” Mrs. Carmichael continued. “But maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. Your father hasn’t taken anything seriously since the day I met him.”
“Yeah,” Molly said flatly.
Mrs. Carmichael reached for Molly’s hand. “So, how are things between you two? Are they looking good?”
Suddenly, the pain that had found Molly’s heart back when she looked at that empty house returned with a vengeance. Tears filled her eyes and she turned her face away from her mom’s concerned gaze. “Mom... I don’t know...”
“What’s wrong, sweetie? What’s wrong?” Mrs. Carmichael pulled Molly into her arms. “Tell me what’s been going on.”
“Nicholas and me... What if we’re too different? What if we tried to be together and he ended up breaking my heart all over again?” The words rushed out of her, finally finding a voice to her fears. “It was bad enough with Roger. With Nicholas, I know that it’s going to be even worse. And I don’t know if I can handle that kind of pain right now. I don’t know if I’m ready for it. Ugh. Why do we have to be so different?”
Mrs. Carmichael rubbed big circles into Molly’s back for a moment before she pulled away from her daughter. “Molly.”
“Yeah?” Molly responded, wiping a tear away from the corner of her eye. She must still be exhausted from baking all night. She never cried like this.
“I used to smoke.”
“What? Mom, you smoked?” Molly stared at her mother in shock.
“Like a chimney,” Mrs. Carmichael admitted with a grin at her daughter. “I would smoke a pack of cigarettes every day. I had to or else I was the grumpiest woman in the world. Your dad actually met me during one of my smoke breaks.”
“But I thought dad has asthma?” Molly was confused by the direction of her mother’s story.
“He does,” Mrs. Carmichael said, nodding her head. “That’s what made us as a couple so preposterous. There I was, taking a smoke break outside the restaurant where I waitressed, and out comes your father, from the same restaurant. Except he’s coming out to complain about there being too much smoke coming from the back kitchen.”
“So how did you two even end up together?” Molly asked, intrigued by her mother’s story. It was a side of her she'd never known.
“Your father, who was coughing up a lung at the time, told me that he wanted to use the last of his breath to tell me how beautiful he thought I was,” Mrs. Carmichael said fondly, her eyes distant with the memory. “And then, he somehow managed to find enough extra breath to ask me out.”
“But you don’t smoke anymore. I’ve never seen you smoke a day in my life...” Molly tilted her head to the side as she wondered if her mother had been able to hide her smoking habit for the past twenty-five plus years.
“No. I don’t. I quit cold-turkey about a week after I started going out with your father,” Mrs. Carmichael told her. “I didn’t like that it was hurting him, and I was a little worried that he’d have to break up with me so that he could have a nice, long, healthy life. And I didn’t want to ruin my own chance at being a part of his nice, long, healthy life.”
“I'm glad you did,” Molly told her.
“Me, too,” she said. Mrs. Carmichael looked over at her daughter and smiled. “What I’m saying is that if you two are so different, one of you will have to change. That’s just how it is. But change doesn’t always have to be a bad thing. If I’d refused to change, I would’ve never been with your father and I wouldn’t have the best kid in the state.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Molly said with a blush. “I thought you liked Liam better than me.”
“Oh, Molly.” Mrs. Carmichael shook her head with a soft laugh. “If you two are meant to be together, the change will come easily. Maybe it’ll be him. Maybe it’ll be you. Maybe both of you. But whichever way it happens, I promise you that the change will feel natural. And it won’t be something that you could ever force. You just have to feel it.”
“That sounds complicated,” Molly said with a sigh.
Mrs. Carmichael placed her hands on Molly’s face, clearing away the rest of her daughter’s tears. “When you feel it, you’ll know.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Molly said with a final sniffle, and the tears finally stopped building behind her eyes.
“I figured you needed a little advice. Why else would I tell you about my old smoking habit?” Mrs. Carmichael replied before she kissed Molly on the tip of her forehead. “I planned on taking that secret to the grave. Ah, well. Now, I’ll have to keep the one about how your father and I robbed a bank pretty close to the vest.”
“Wait, what? You and dad robbed a bank?!”
Mrs. Carmichael walked away from the conversation with Molly right behind her. Suddenly Molly wondered where the random “rainy day” money had come from. And just why had they insisted on moving to this small town?
“Mom, tell me you’re joking. Mom!”
Mrs. Carmichael seemed to ignore her daughter’s pleas for more information, even as they both made their way into the kitchen. Mrs. Carmichael soon joined Mr. Carmichael and Liam where they were hunched over the kitchen counter.
Molly let her line of questioning go once she spotted the cookies on the kitchen counter. She joined her family around the cookie platter and spent the rest of her afternoon laughing with Liam, listening to her parents detail how they spent their fabulous vacation time in Miami, and eating far too many cookies.
Chapter 28
Nicholas
Nicholas and Luke stood side by side as the group of investors made their way around the shop. One of them seemed particularly interested in the Christmas tree displays and even brought out a magnifying glass to get a closer look at the various ornaments and branches.
Another investor stared down at the register, tapping on its sides. “Would you happen to know how old this machine is?”
“Records indicated that it was bought three years ago, sir.” Luke answered the investor with a nod.
The investor frowned. “Three years ago? No wonder this thing looks so ancient. It won’t be a problem, though. We always upgrade our systems when we take on a new company.”
A female investor then tapped Nicholas on the shoulder and she greeted him with a smile. “Mr. Kerstman, I had a question for you?”
“Go ahead,” Nicholas replied, turning back towards her and giving her his full attention. “Anything you’d like to know, feel free to ask either one of us.”
“Do the employees here wear nametags?” the woman asked.
“Yes, of course,” Nicholas replied.
“Ah, wonderful. And what would those nametags happen to say?” The female investor leaned in closer, as she brought u
p a document app on her phone. “Is it something like, ‘Welcome to Christmas Wishes My Name Is...?”
“Actually, no.” Nicholas paused, thinking back to Molly’s nametag with a smile. “Our current manager’s nametag says the shop’s name, and then her title is listed right under it as ‘Head Elf’.”
The female investor burst into a laughing fit. She managed to control herself before she looked back up at Nicholas. “Head Elf? Your manager wears a nametag that says Head Elf? Oh, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.”
“You think it’s something your team could work with?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“We can work with anything,” the woman replied. “But we’d be immediately getting rid of the whole Head Elf thing. We call our managers ‘managers’. We find that while quirky nicknames can be fun, they can often lead to a few seconds of confusion on the part of the customer. We don’t want people confused in our stores, Mr. Kerstman. We want them to get in and then get right out.”
“I see,” Nicholas said in a flat voice.
The female investor placed her phone back into her purse. “Would updating the nametags be a problem for your staff? I can’t imagine that your poor manager is attached to that awful Head Elf label.”
“Actually, I don’t think she’d like that—” Nicholas began his answer.
But Luke fielded the response. “It won’t be a problem, ma’am. Not at all. As long as your company provides the titles you’d prefer.”
“Of course, we will,” the woman replied. She took another look at Nicholas, her eyes staying on him a bit longer than Nicholas felt necessary. “And what about the name change for the store itself? Have you already spoken with your staff about that, too?”
“The staff will be notified when the time comes.” Nicholas’ answer was flat as he managed to suppress all emotion. “We didn’t want to bring any of the suggested changes up until we had a deal on the table, at least.”
“With numbers like yours, Mr. Kerstman, you’ll definitely be getting a deal from us,” she assured him. She offered Nicholas a sly smile. “You should be proud of your little store. You’ve got great financials for a seasonal concept. And running a website when the shop is closed during the off-season is pretty genius, too. Allowing us to take over from here means you might even have a chance at going national, maybe even international. Plus, letting us take it off your hands will give you enough time to pursue other interests.”
Nicholas caught the meaning behind her words as she placed a flawless manicured hand on his shoulder. She gave him a small squeeze and wink. He gave her a courteous smile in return, even though he felt a little sickened by her misplaced affection.
Just then, another investor called her attention, and the female investor soon clicked-and-clacked across the room in her six-inch heels. Nicholas breathed a sigh of relief.
“This is so exciting! Isn’t it, sir?” Luke said, clasping his hands together behind his back and rocking up on his toes. “I’ve never seen a deal go through in the same month as the proposal. I bet they even brought their leasing agreement with them.”
“I bet they did, Luke. I bet they did...” Nicholas’ thoughts trailed off as he watched an investor tinker around with a pile of tinsel, seemingly trying to weigh it in his palms.
“Are you alright, sir? Not to offend you, but it feels like your mind is somewhere else. You’re usually a lot sharper when we’re meeting with potential clients,” Luke told him, keeping his voice low and private. “Are you having second thoughts about keeping the store in your name?”
“It’s all just so weird,” Nicholas said, glancing around the room, taking note of the investors’ strange behaviors as they poked and prodded at wrapped gifts on the shelf and broke apart candy canes on purpose so that they could taste the ingredients faster. “These people, Luke. It’s like they don’t understand Christmas at all.”
In his mind, he wondered: Is this what I used to be like, too? Was I this clueless?
“With all due respect, sir, it doesn’t quite matter if they understand Christmas, does it? As long as they’re able to sell Christmas,” Luke replied. “Isn’t that what Christmas is really all about, anyway? Selling it?”
“I don’t know...” Nicholas went back to being lost in his thoughts as he continued to watch the investors pace around the store.
After a few minutes had passed, the group walked up to Nicholas as a whole, the female investor leading the pack. “Nicholas Kerstman, we’d like to make you a deal.”
“I’m listening,” Nicholas told her, focusing his attention completely on her.
“We’ll give you a million dollars. All cash. By tomorrow afternoon,” she told him. She held out her hand and someone quickly placed an ink pen and a sheet of stapled papers into her palm. “We’ll own 75% of the business. As requested, your parents can share ownership of the remaining 25%. The million dollars we’re offering you will essentially be buying you out.”
Nicholas nodded, even as his stomach began to twist and turn.
“Then all you’ll need to do is sign right here. Of course, we’ll take care of the future legalities with your office.” The female investor handed Nicholas the pen and the sheets of paper, and then she turned towards Luke. “And thank you so much for your assistance with this, Luke. It’s been lovely working with the both of you.”
“It was no problem at all, ma’am,” Luke replied with a polite smile. “Thank you for considering us for your business’ portfolio.”
Luke and the rest of the investors continued to exchange pleasantries, but Nicholas couldn’t hear a word that anyone was saying.
It felt like there was water rushing straight into his ears.
His world was spinning in circles and his fingers shook while holding onto the pen.
He needed to sign the papers.
He knew that he needed to sign the papers.
He’d be an absolute idiot to pass up a million dollars being transferred to his business’ account by Christmas Day. That was the kind of money that Nicholas had been dreaming about, enough money to start expanding Kerstman Enterprises, enough money to make the kind of name for himself in New York that could last for generations.
But there was something holding him back.
Or rather, someone holding him back.
And Nicholas knew that it was the woman who he’d left sleeping in her apartment, flour caked all over her sweater. The same woman whose smile made his heart come alive, beating faster in her presence, his whole world seeming to get brighter the longer he stayed by her side. The woman who kissed like heaven.
Nicholas also knew that if he signed these papers, if he signed over the rights to Christmas Wishes, there was a possibility that Molly Carmichael would never forgive him.
There was a possibility that Molly Carmichael would be out of his life for good.
Nicholas’ mind tried to handle the situation rationally and logically. Wouldn’t Nicholas be alright without Molly in his life? He’d lived this long without knowing her, so of course, he’d be able to continue on as if she never existed.
Maybe as soon as he went back to New York, he’d go right back to his life of sushi, salad and spending nights at home in his condo and having cordial conversations with the guard every now and then.
Maybe he’d even stop thinking about Molly Carmichael as soon as his plane touched down at LaGuardia.
And even though none of it felt like the truth, the thought of being alright without Molly Carmichael in his life made Nicholas’ stomach settle down. His thoughts calmed from their incessant swirling, turning his mind into something still hazy but much more manageable. Logic and business won out.
“Mr. Kerstman? Are you going to sign the papers?” The female investor asked. “Is something wrong with the pen? We can get you a new one if you need.”
“No, everything's fine. Everything is fine,” Nicholas said with a false smile and he signed the papers, skimming the fine print before he pushed th
em back towards the investors. “Thank you for your time today. We’ll be sure to send over any information you may need in the future, as soon as the dust settles.”
“Can’t wait to see you again, Mr. Kerstman,” the female investor said with a smile. “We’ll have your money ready for you soon.”
As she began to leave out of the shop with the rest of the investors following behind her, Nicholas could feel what he imagined to be a hole opening up inside his chest. A big, black, light-sucking hole.
Guilt hadn’t been a common feeling in Nicholas’ life thus far, but this time the sensation felt like it was threatening to eat Nicholas alive.
How could he ever face Molly after what he’d done?
“Yes! A million dollars in the bag. How should we celebrate, sir?” Luke danced around the room, excitement coming off him at the success. “Please tell me they have a sushi bar somewhere around here. We need to celebrate!”
“I need to go, Luke,” Nicholas said, the black hole inside of him threatening to swallow him completely. He needed to get out of this store. There was too much Christmas here. Too much Molly.
“Oh. Alright, sir,” Luke said slowly. “Did you want me to drive you or—”
“No. I’ll walk,” Nicholas cut him off, shaking his head and already heading out the front door. “Sorry. I need to be alone. I need to think.”
“Think away, sir,” Luke said softly, watching him go. “Think away.”
* * *
By nightfall, Nicholas had decided to pack up his rented cabin.
He wanted to head back to New York in the morning.
Even though his parents wanted to see him for Christmas, he knew that it wasn’t a possibility. He wouldn’t be able to stay in this town for even another second once Molly found out the truth. Once she started to look at him with hurt in her eyes, he'd break.
And even the most logical parts of Nicholas’ brain struggled with the reality of Molly no longer being able to stand being around him. She'd hate him for this. It was hurting him in ways he couldn’t describe, in ways he never even realized that he could hurt.