Marrying Miss Kringle: Lux

by McConnell, Lucy

  Matthew looked at Lux and then down at her hand as if he wanted to hold her hand as they half jogged through the Hall of Santas Past and toward her room. She couldn’t do it. Not only would it cause a magical surge; it would hurt her heart to pretend that he loved her while knowing he did not.

  “This way.” She waved for him to follow her and kept enough distance between them that his hand wouldn’t find the small of her back. The family had opened her purple door with the silver handle and stared in wonder at the sight. Lux breathed a sigh of relief. She loved her purple door. Elbowing her way to the front of the group, she stopped just inside her door and took in the new arrangement.

  What had once been her small reading nook was now a large living room and kitchen area. Her bookshelves had expanded, leaving empty space for Matthew to fill in with his library. If he had a library. She wondered if he was a reader and what titles would line his shelves. Hers were mostly nonfiction—books on writing code and electrical systems, and she stored all the manuals for the toy machines here.

  There was a new bathroom just off the living room. The floor was white tile with a fluffy white rug against the pedestal sink. The walls were white with a row of glass tiles in a rainbow of blues and greens behind and surrounding the mirror. There was a tub and shower with a turquoise shower curtain that matched the tiles. She instantly liked it and turned to see what Matthew thought. He was staring at the two open doors on the other side of the room.

  The one on the right opened into her bedroom. Everything was just as she’d left it, including the unmade bed. The purple coverlet was in a lump in the middle of the bed because she’d kicked it to the floor in her sleep and then tossed it aside while looking for her shoes. Her Captain America poster hung over the headboard. She wished she’d had warning to hide her Star Wars and Marvel collectibles. It seemed silly for a married woman to have toys in her room.

  The door on the left was also open, revealing another bedroom that looked like the inside of Quik’s cabin. He had the large bed with the plastic totes underneath, the couch, and the minimalist shelves.

  Lux’s eyes bounced back and forth between the two rooms. She hadn’t thought past the wedding and certainly hadn’t thought about the wedding night. She pressed her fingers to her cheeks. This is what Stella must feel like when I track her love life with the energy app. She wanted to burrow under the bed and not come out until December, put a “Do Not Open until Christmas” sticker on her door, and call it good.

  Dad put his fists on his hips, a satisfied look on his face. He’d gone back to normal size, apparently pleased with the sleeping arrangements.

  Mom smacked his arm. “Did you do this?”

  “I wish I knew how.” Dad kissed her temple. His eyes crinkled at the corners. If Kringles could lie, she’d suspect him of covering his tracks.

  Her sisters all exchanged looks of wonder and wariness.

  Joseph tugged on Ginger’s and Layla’s hands. “Come on, we’ve got schoolwork and Christmas preparation waiting.”

  Layla pulled her hand away and trotted over to Matthew. Lux’s favorite niece wore a pair of leggings with puppies on them and a T-shirt trimmed with lace. Her long hair had been crimped with overnight braids, and her eyes shone. “Here, this is for you.” She handed Matthew a folded piece of paper before skipping back to her dad.

  Matthew’s smile was warm, and his soulful brown eyes softened. “Thank you.” He lifted the paper in a wave as they left.

  Robyn linked arms with Frost and Stella. “Well, as exciting as this is, we’re going to—”

  “Fly to Minnesota for Plant a Tree Day?” Stella filled in.

  “No.” Robyn dragged her along.

  “It’s spring break in Florida,” Stella offered.

  Robyn shook her head. “We’re going to finish lunch preparations. There are lots of worried elves that need to eat.”

  “Aw.” Stella kicked the carpet.

  Frost waved, staying out of Robyn and Stella’s argument but going along to help with the meal. Her smile said she was happy for the couple, but her eyes betrayed worry for her sister.

  Lux tried to reassure them all with a watery smile, but her half-baked attempt was pathetic.

  With her sisters gone, Lux felt the weight of her parents’ stares. She turned to face them, pulling the elastic out of her hair and fidgeting with her braid. “It’s a long story.”

  Dad folded his arms. “I’m immortal. Get started.”

  Lux pushed her glasses up her nose. “You’re not immortal. If you were, then Great-grandpa Earl would still be alive and—”

  “Lux?” said Mom.

  “Yes?”

  “Quit stalling.”

  She sighed. She filled them in on everything that had happened over the last two days, leaving out that part about how much she loved Matthew and that he didn’t love her back. That wouldn’t win him—or her—any points. Her story painted a picture of a convenient marriage struck from a bargain that benefitted them both. When she was done, they all turned to look at her groom.

  He gestured to Lux. “She’s right.”

  “Well, at least you agree on things.” Mom brushed her hands down the front of her emerald-green sweater dress. She was normally a jeans woman, but every now and again she pulled out all the stops.

  Dad grunted. “I expect that substation to run exactly how Lux envisioned.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Matthew agreed.

  There was an awkward goodbye where Mom hugged Matthew.

  Dad glared and said, “I know when you are sleeping,” in a deep, chilly voice. Both she and Matthew shivered.

  And then they were alone. As husband and wife. In the apartment they shared.

  Lux shut the door behind her parents and leaned her forehead against it, needed the support. The introductions had gone surprisingly well, all things considered. Matthew was still here and not an ice cube in a snowbank somewhere. Maybe that’s why Selora had unhitched the reindeer so quickly—she was removing temptation.

  As draining as the wedding and arrival had been, what sucked the holly out of her was seeing the two separate bedrooms. With the creation of that second room, Christmas Magic confirmed Matthew didn’t love her.

  The confirmation burned as strongly as cinnamon oil in a wrapping paper cut.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Quik wandered down a hallway lined with paintings of Santas. The further back they went, the more severe their looks. Or maybe that was just the way he perceived them, since just about everyone here hated him. The red baroque carpet kept his footfalls to a whisper. Which was exactly what he wanted. This place was full of angry elves and one seriously ticked-off father-in-law. The last thing he wanted to do was bump into one of them unexpectedly. They were in an ice cave at the North Pole—the very definition of “nowhere.” Bodies easily disappeared in “nowhere.”

  After everyone had left, Lux had walked slowly across the living room and shut her bedroom door behind her without a word. She wasn’t the blushing bride he’d imagined her to be right after the ceremony. This Christmas Magic was powerful stuff. He still had a slight buzz, but at least his head was clear. Clear enough that he knew he’d disappointed his sweet wife somehow. The feeling sat like too much starch in his dress shirt. As much as his bedroom looked like the cabin he’d called home for the last five years, it wasn’t home to him. He’d intruded in Lux’s personal space and her life. Instead of sticking around, he left the apartment with nowhere to go. Finding Joseph would be a good idea. At least he could get some pointers on how to handle the not-so-jolly elves.

  At the end of the hall the hallway split. The right was noisy with machines, voices, and an intercom that he couldn’t quite make out. That must be the toy factory. The left was quiet. He could use some quiet, and so he went in that direction.

  About twenty feet later there was a wooden door with the word: LETTERS.

  “Now this I gotta see.” He tested the door and it swung right open, slamming a
gainst the wall.

  “Cranberries!” Frost exclaimed. She dropped her pen, and it rolled right off the desk and landed at his feet.

  “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Quik bent down to retrieve her pen. He crossed the green shag carpet that reminded him of Lux’s vibrant eyes and placed it on Frost’s desk.

  “I’m reading through a couple letters that came in today.”

  “Letters? Like letters to Santa? Isn’t it a bit early for that?”

  Frost’s violet eyes widened. She was the picture of innocence. “We get letters all year round. Of course, the number of deliveries increases substantially the closer we get to Christmas, but Santa is never far from some children’s minds.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Is this where my List Report came from?”

  Frost grinned. “We keep diligent records on every child and their status on the List. But the List Report would come from Ginger’s department.”

  “Amazing.” He breathed the word as he turned to take in the miles of filing cabinets. Every so often, an elf could be seen carrying files.

  “Most everything is digitized these days.” She spun her monitor around. “But after last year’s scare, we’ve been doing everything in hard copy as well.”

  “Scare?”

  Frost nodded. “We almost lost Christmas Magic. If Lux hadn’t figured out how to save us …” She shuddered once and then brightened. “She’s the first Kringle to scientifically study Christmas Magic. She’s a pioneer in science.” Frost glowed with pride.

  And I thought you couldn’t quantify magic. I must have sounded like an idiot.

  “You look like you drank last year’s eggnog.”

  Quik chuckled. The Christmas vernacular was going to take some getting used to. “I pretty much told Lux I didn’t believe in Christmas Magic.”

  Frost layered her hands over her heart. “That’s horrible.”

  He held up a hand. “I didn’t mean it personal.”

  “Doesn’t matter to a Kringle.” She sniffed delicately. “I hope you apologized.”

  That starch-guilt feeling was back. “I haven’t really had the chance.”

  Frost’s purple eyes flashed, and he saw a bit of her father in her. “Make the chance.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Frost smiled, and all traces of anger disappeared. He could appreciate her sticking up for her sister. That’s what siblings were supposed to do. If his son ever had a brother, he’d expect them to stick together. Of course, for a brother to appear, that would mean Quik and his ex-wife would have had to stick together, too, and that wasn’t an option. There was always the half-brother option. He and Lux—one day—maybe?

  He stared at the computer screen, lost in thoughts about family dynamics.

  “Are you thinking about your son?” asked Frost.

  “How did you—?”

  She flourished her hand to indicate the vast number of wooden filing cabinets. The place was like one large card catalogue. “Record keeping is my thing.”

  “Yes—what do you have on Oliver?”

  She typed and clicked for several seconds. “Last Christmas he was four years old. He asked for a telescope and likes pirates.”

  “Pirates,” he said quietly, contemplating this little person whom he loved but hadn’t seen for years. Oliver probably didn’t even know his name—it wasn’t like he and Amy parted on good terms. Quik doubted she spoke of him to their kid. She thought she’d married a hot army guy who wanted to travel the world, work out on the beach, and flex just for the fun of it. Finding out she’d married a fit geek was disappointing at best and devastating at worst.

  No matter how much he disliked her shallow side, Amy was a caring and invested mother. At least, she had been several years ago. Hopefully she still was. “What else can you tell me?” He leaned over the desk.

  “Not much. He lives in California.” Frost cocked her head. “Why don’t you know this?”

  Quik tapped his fingers on the desk. “I left to protect him.”

  “That’s … noble.”

  “It’s selfish. He’ll never know why I left. But I couldn’t stand the thought that my son would be hurt because of me. I wanted him to grow up as far away from the danger I faced as possible because it gave me peace of mind.”

  “Oh.” Frost looked away, clearly uncomfortable with his honesty.

  He was uncomfortable with his honesty. Lux said Kringles didn’t lie, but he’d assumed that was a choice they made, not a compulsion. He cleared his throat. “Did he get the telescope?”

  “Of course. He’s a solid Nice List kid.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “You know, you’re a part of all this now—of making children’s Christmas wishes come true. Kids like your son.”

  He nodded.

  “We’re kind of intense about things.”

  He smiled at that. “I have a military background, I think I can handle intense.”

  “I’m not trying to scare you—I’m trying to help you.” She tipped her head. “You haven’t opened your heart.”

  “To what, Christmas? What am I supposed to do, dress like an elf?”

  Lux nodded seriously. “If that would help. But what you really need is a purpose for being here.”

  “I have a purpose—I’m building the substation with Lux.”

  “Yeah, but why?”

  “To convert Christmas Magic into electricity.”

  “But … why?”

  Quik tamped down his irritation. “So the North Pole doesn’t shut down.”

  “Why?”

  He threw his hands up. “I don’t know.”

  Frost tapped the computer screen, and a cherub-cheeked boy with light brown hair and brown eyes grinned up at the camera from Santa’s lap.

  Quik stared, knowing it was his son right down to his bones. He would do anything to spare Oliver the disappointment of not getting his deepest Christmas wish. He pointed. “That’s why.”

  Frost grinned like a teacher whose struggling student aced the spelling test. “Yes, it is. Oliver and every other child around the world.” She smiled. “But mostly him.”

  Quik nodded. “I’ve got work to do.” He waved at the door and Frost waved back. She was intense, but in a good way. Lux was like that too. Focused on the Mini-Sub, braving his doorstep to get the answers she wanted. Marrying him. He swallowed. He’d had all these romantic notions today, telling her she was beautiful, holding her hands, kissing her cheek, and believing there could be more between them—after they built the substation, of course. But she could have married him for his brain. Wasn’t that what she’d said? That she’d searched him out for his mind and what he knew, not because she wanted him.

  They’d made a deal. The deal was his idea, but he hadn’t said a word about love and cherishing when he talked her into getting married. He’d bargained his safety and her project.

  He walked back down the hallway in a daze. The project was most important. Helping Oliver get his Christmas wishes every year without fail was most important. His bleeding heart was secondary to the greater good. He reached the hall of Santas Past and his feet picked up speed. By the time he threw open the apartment door, he was running. “Lux!” he yelled.

  She burst out of her room. “What?” She looked around as if there were danger.

  “We’ve got a substation to build.” He began rolling up his sleeves. “And not a minute to lose.” A normal substation could take two full years to build. They had six months if they worked right up to the last minute. Six months to do two years’ worth of work. “Does Christmas Magic work miracles?” he asked.

  She swallowed hard. “Depends on your definition of a miracle.”

  “Can it slow time? We have six months.”

  Lux lifted one side of her mouth in a lopsided smile. “You ever wonder how Santa delivers all the gifts in one night?”

  “Really, Santa can slow time?”

  “No.” Lux frowned. “But it allows us
to stay awake—extends our days in that way. And we work fast.”

  “How fast?”

  She tied her shoelaces in less than a second.

  Quik stared. He’d forgotten what it had been like to work alongside Lux when they rewired the church building. He’d reach for a tool and she’d have already completed the project. “Oddly, that gives me hope for Christmas.”

  Lux smiled sadly. “Come on, I’ll show you the worksite.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  174 Days until Christmas Eve

  Lux entered the building site. They’d never put anything in the large cavern that had been around as long as Lux could remember. This was a place where magic floated like snowflakes. She and her sisters used to sneak in and have dance parties. Stella even brought a disco ball once. The magic tickled against their arms as they spun in circles. Frost was partial to ballet and often wore a white tutu with silver tights and a matching headband. She was as beautiful as a snow fairy. Robyn preferred hip-hop moves. You wouldn’t know it to look at her today with her perfectly coiffed hair and pressed aprons, but that girl could shake her booty with the best of them.

  Lux smiled at the memories, and her thoughts drifted to another dance she’d shared—this one with Matthew in his barn. They truly had transformed his barn into a ballroom through Christmas Magic. She’d seen it, felt it, lived it. That was the moment she fell in love with him, and the magic had overflowed into everything around them.

  They were back to dancing, although the steps were much different. Instead of floating around the room in his arms, they stepped lightly to avoid contact. Instead of staring into one another’s eyes, they spoke to the floor or just over each other’s shoulders. Instead of being caught up in his arms, she wrapped herself in the knowledge that they were doing good for the children of the world.

  The building site was far away from the living quarters with a twenty-foot wall of ice between it and the toy factory. That meant running pipes and cables through the ice, but the Magic was accommodating. She and Matthew would discuss what they needed, and the next morning it would be there. He seemed to have accepted the fact that Christmas Magic existed—embraced it, even. But there was a part of him closed off to all of this—to her—and she had no idea how to open that door.