by H. L. Burke
Nyssa read it again. “This is all sort of new to me. Maybe I should just let you plan the meal.” She glanced around the homey kitchen. What else does it take to make a perfect Christmas? Shock me, I can put together a clock with my eyes closed, but a family holiday? For that I need an instruction manual.
“I suppose we’ll need decorations.” Mrs. H raised a gray eyebrow.
“Yes, right,” Nyssa said. “So ribbons and candles?”
“Tinsel’s always a nice touch. I may not be a flashy dresser, but I do like some sparkle, especially around the holidays.”
Nyssa closed her eyes and tried to remember her last family Christmas. She focused on the taste of peppermint, sweet and tingly, coating her tongue. Her mother bustling about their tiny kitchen … the scent of cinnamon and sage … then a fresh, green smell. Pine boughs? Fir?
Her eyes shot open. “We need a Christmas tree!”
“A Christmas tree?” Mrs. H’s brow furrowed, and she turned back to the stove. “I’ve heard of those, but they’re more a continental tradition. For one thing, since the sugar plantations cleared the island, there aren’t a lot of trees left. Just the palms on the beachfront, and they don’t let you cut those down. We generally would just have a creche and some candles and garland.”
Nyssa’s heart sank. Ellis had mentioned a ten-foot-tall, illuminated tree. She doubted it had been a palm.
“I actually have a creche if you’d like to make that part of the décor,” Mrs. H said. “If you really want a tree, you might check the shops that cater to those from the continent, like you and Master Ellis. There might be some in the tourist district.”
“Thanks, I’ll check there.”
Mrs. H looked back over her shoulder. “I bet Master Ellis will get you something extra nice for Christmas. Maybe some jewelry.” She winked. “Maybe a ring.”
Nyssa flushed. Something chewed at the edges of her brain. “What do I get Ellis, though? He doesn’t need anything. If he wants it, he can either afford to buy it or knows how to make it. Plus he deserves something big and grand.”
“Oh, gifts aren’t about what people can get themselves or how big it is.” Mrs. H lit a burner and filled a pot with water from the hand pump. “The best gifts are handmade. Maybe you could knit him a scarf or some socks.”
“I never learned to knit.”
“What about embroidery? You could purchase some plain handkerchiefs and sew his initials on them.” She measured out a cup of rice. “Men always need handkerchiefs, especially a man like Master Ellis. I have to throw out half the ones he sends through the laundry because of grease stains.”
“I know how to sew on buttons and do basic mending.” Nyssa crossed her arms. “That’s about my homemaking skills. I mean, I can make things, but Ellis doesn’t need another pocket watch or videophone.”
“You’ll come up with something. You’re a clever girl.” Mrs. H tossed some salt over her shoulder. “We’re less than a week ʽtil Christmas. You should probably get your shopping done now, if you want to have any sort of selection. The shelves tend to be pretty bare near the big day. What about little Theo? Are you going to buy him some toys?”
“Ellis said he’d make him something special,” Nyssa said. And Ellis is brilliant.
“I’m sure Theo will love whatever it is.”
Nyssa picked up her peacoat and satchel, then strode into the workshop to tell Ellis she would be out until dinner. Sitting with his back to her, Ellis pulled a cloth over his workbench when she approached. He turned and a smile crept across his face. “Oh, it’s you. I thought you might be Theo.”
“Getting started on his present?” She smiled.
“Yeah, I have a few ideas I’m playing with. You going someplace?” He nodded towards her satchel.
“Yes, Mrs. H warned me things might sell out if I didn’t start soon.”
“She’s probably right. Almost everything has to be imported from the factories on the continent, so once it’s gone, it’s gone.” He picked up the cloth, revealing a notepad covered in sketches of trains, wind-up dogs, and what might have been a castle along with several random pieces of clockwork. “Where’s my penknife?” He pushed away from the desk then navigated to the counter. After a moment scanning the surface, he rolled behind the counter and flipped a switch on the arm of his chair. It adjusted, the pieces forming braces around his legs and lower body, pushing him into a standing position. “Ah-ha!” He reached onto a top shelf and pulled out a small knife. “I wonder how it got there.”
“Theo, probably. He’s always messing around in here.”
Ellis rolled away from the shelves, his braces still keeping him standing. Nyssa bit her bottom lip, remembering the wistful look on his face when he spoke of his parents dancing. I wonder if we could dance like that.An ache like hunger swelled within her as she imagined wrapping her arms about him and swaying in time to gentle music.
She cleared her throat. “I better get going.” Coming to him, she raised her face for a kiss.
He pressed his lips against hers, then twined his fingers into her wiry brown hair. “Hurry back.”
“I will.”
Chapter Three
Nyssa gritted her teeth as an elbow poked her in the side. The trolley jolted beneath her, and the crowd around her swayed. She clutched the strap. Was everyone headed towards the tourist district shops?
I’m going to get elaborate decorations, a stunning Christmas tree, and the perfect gift for Ellis if it kills me. Sparks and shocks, though, why do they have to put so many people on these trolleys?
She leapt from the car when it came to a stop, and hurried into an equally crowded shop to browse. Eager shop girls extolled the virtues of watches and cufflinks and a thousand other things that weren’t good enough for Ellis.
He needs something special. Something that he’ll use every day and love using and that says “thank you” for being there for me through everything life has put me through lately.
She paused and thought of all that had happened in the last six months: the murder of her employer/mentor Mr. Calloway; being framed for said murder; finding Ellis imprisoned in his insane father’s death trap of a house; fleeing New Taured; almost dying on a crashing zeppelin; fighting for custody of Theo from her awful uncle … yes, without Ellis she would’ve gone mad. Her throat tightened.
There’s no way any gift would be enough. If only he didn’t want to buy me something. Shock me, I know he’ll get me something perfect, and whatever I buy will seem a lump of coal in comparison.
She lingered over a display of shiny tools: wrenches and screwdrivers. They were nice, and Ellis was always building and tinkering. Still, he owned a perfectly serviceable tool set. Replacing something reliable with something new and flashy didn’t seem like Ellis.
“Decorations. I told Ellis I’d see to decorations,” she mumbled to herself. Wandering to that section of the store, she stared at the boxes of crystal ornaments, spools of stringed lights, and packages of tinsel. A clockwork Saint Nick snapped a silver whip over a line of mechanical deer atop the display. Their little tin legs twitched in concert, as if they were swimming through the air rather than attached to a stand.
She picked up the smallest bag of tinsel. It glinted under the store’s lights. Nyssa chewed her bottom lip. It’s just shiny bits of paper. It seems so cheap and cheesy.
Nyssa tucked it under her arm anyway. Staring at the display, trying to imagine where it would all go, and how much it would all cost, the room seemed to spin.
“Maybe the tinsel and a box of taper candles will be enough.” She glanced around until she managed to catch a shop girl’s eye. “Excuse me, do you sell Christmas trees?”
The woman’s pasted on smile wavered ever so slightly. “We did have a few shipped in from the continent, but I’m afraid they’re all sold out.”
“And the other shops?” Nyssa prodded.
“I believe we were the only shop to import them. They aren’t in high demand among the loca
ls.” The girl reached up to a high shelf and brought down a green garland made of a dull material, probably shredded tin. “We have this, though. High quality imitation greenery.”
“No, thank you. I think I’ll just take this.” Nyssa passed the girl the tinsel. “And perhaps a box of taper candles.”
“White or red wax?” the girl asked.
“One box of each, please.” Maybe I can line them up and they’ll look like peppermint stripes. I still need to get something for Ellis … and Mrs. H … and maybe some small gifts to supplement whatever Ellis is making for Theo. That won’t take long, though.
“I’ll wrap these up for you.” The girl hurried behind the wrapping counter.
A murmur passed through the shop like the hiss of a fuse. Every neck snapped towards the door as a finely dressed young woman with elegant brown curls swept into the shop. She was accompanied by a barrel chested butler in a top hat, his arms filled with parcels.
Amara.
Though only Nyssa’s age, Amara Azores was married to the son of the island’s duke, which made her the most fashionable and influential woman in San Azula. Nyssa had met her on the zeppelin from New Taured, and in spite of their differences, she was the closest thing Nyssa had to a friend her own age outside of Ellis.
Amara scanned the shop. An older woman in a swishing skirt and high button shoes, probably the manager, hurried to her side.
“Lady Azores, what an unexpected pleasure! Is there anything we can do for you?”
“No, thank you, I’m just browsing … oh!” Amara’s gaze lit upon Nyssa, and her smile broadened.
Nyssa swallowed a smirk. I’m about to get swept along by Hurricane Amara. God help me.
“Nyssa, darling, it’s so good to see you.” Amara swept through the gawking shoppers and gave Nyssa a quick hug. Nyssa managed not to squirm at the embrace.
“Good to see you as well … especially away from your entourage.” Nyssa eyed the butler who lurked near the entrance, his stare boring into one curious citizen after another. Still, usually Amara was accompanied by more than one lackey.
“Sometimes I like to slip away. Renard insists on at least one guard, of course. He’s adorably protective.” Amara fussed with her hair. “And you? How’s Ellis and that adorable cousin of yours?”
“They’re both well. We’re trying to make this Christmas special for Theo. Ellis is going to make him some toys, and I’m in charge of decorations. I was actually just finishing up here when you came in.”
“Excuse me, Miss,” a voice squeaked.
Nyssa turned and found the shop girl who had taken her tinsel. The girl was clutching two wrapped parcels and staring at Amara.
“Thank you,” Nyssa said as she took the packages.
Amara’s nose wrinkled. “That’s it? I thought you said you were finishing up?”
“I am. I have tinsel and red and white candles. It’ll be quite festive.” Nyssa frowned.
“Nyssa, Nyssa, Nyssa, it’s Christmas! You don’t stop at the bare minimum. You go over the top! How are you going to make the holiday special with only that?” Amara waved towards Nyssa’s bundles.
Nyssa bit her bottom lip. Maybe Amara had a point. “I suppose I could get a few more things. I did want a Christmas tree, but they didn’t have any.”
“Hmm…” Amara tapped a painted nail against her lips. “A tree might be difficult. I had to send away to the continent for one of the proper size, but that will take too long, now. It’s almost Christmas. Here, let me treat you. My expense account is still half full and the month is nearly over.” She beckoned to the shop girl. “Wrap up one of everything from that display.”
“Amara, that’s just too …” Nyssa began to protest, but the shop girl’s eyes glinted and she sprang into action with a “Yes, Ma’am.”
This is probably a commission of a lifetime for the girl, Nyssa realized. Well, let Amara have her fun.
“So.” Amara squeezed Nyssa’s shoulder. “What are you going to get Ellis for Christmas?”
Nyssa winced. It was bad enough being completely at a loss without sharing that with Amara. It’s not like I can’t use the help, though. “I don’t know. Ellis has everything and all the little things people have suggested, watches, embroidered handkerchiefs, don’t seem enough. What are you getting Renard?”
“Oh, I’m having my portrait painted as a Greek goddess, for him to hang in his office. It’s going to be spectacular.” Amara stuck her chin in the air, for a moment looking every bit like an imperious Aphrodite.
“That really isn’t my—or Ellis’s—style.” I should know him well enough to know what he wants. Am I really that clueless?
“Well, Ellis is so easygoing, I can’t imagine he’ll dislike whatever it is you get him.” Amara shrugged. “Is there anything he’s mentioned wanting but thought it was too much? A lot of times men are afraid to buy ‘frivolous’ things even though they really want them.”
“Ellis lives for frivolous things. Last month he made a clockwork mouse that got loose around the workshop and startled customers by skittering across the floor until the springs finally wound down.” Nyssa laughed. “He thought that was hilarious. Still, I don’t want to get him a gag gift. I want something that says … that says ‘I love you.’”
“A poem?”
“I … could try. Do they have to rhyme?”
“No, scratch that. There’s no way you’re sentimental enough to write a poem.” Amara shook her head.
Nyssa grimaced.
“Ellis is sentimental, though.” Amara stepped up to a display case of music boxes. She flipped one over and turned the key. “Is there something from his childhood? A memory you can recreate? Christmas is all about memories.”
Tinkling music rose from the box, a gentle lullaby. The gears in Nyssa’s head lurched to life.
“Well, he did look a little sad when he talked about his parents dancing.” She opened another music box. A couple in old fashioned dress circled each other. “I did wonder if I could work with his chair. It has the braces setting he can stand with. With a little alteration, we might be able to dance. I mean, it’s just kind of walking in circles, right?”
Amara raised a pristine eyebrow. “Just walking in circles? Nyssa, have you ever danced?”
“No, but … I mean, I’m not looking to put on a show. I just want to give Ellis a nice Christmas.”
“If you’re going to do something, do it right. Dancing is two people moving in concert.” Amara closed her eyes and swayed slightly. “It’s a metaphor for love. You know what I mean by love, right?” She opened her eyes and winked.
Nyssa flushed. I’ll take her word for it.
“Well, I can try to learn. Is there an instruction book or something?”
“Oh, Nyssa, Nyssa, it’s like someone forgot to tell you you’re a girl sometimes.”
Nyssa bit down hard on her tongue. I’m not going to snap at Amara. I need her help. I’ll just mock her in my head later. “So, as a girl, how do you suggest I go about it?”
Amara reached into her purse and brought out a calling card and a stubby pencil. She wrote something on the back. “I happen to know the most in demand dance instructor on the island. He’s a continental expatriate, like you and me, but from Parrie, not New Taured.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “Don’t you just love the Parrisan accent?”
“It’s fine, I suppose. We only have four days left. Do you think he’ll be able to help me work with Ellis’s situation?” Nyssa took the card and stared at the address Amara had written. “There’s no point in learning to dance if I can’t dance with Ellis.”
“So sweet.” Amara tucked the pencil back in her purse. “I’m sure he’ll be willing. After all, you know how romantic Parrisans are. Once he hears your tale of true love, he’ll bend over backwards to accommodate you.”
Nyssa clutched the tiny card. If I can give Ellis this one thing, maybe it will be the perfect Christmas.
Chapter Four
The gra
phite pencil skimmed over the surface of the notebook as Ellis sketched out his latest idea. Practical but elegant … just like her.
Theo bounced up and down on his toes, trying to look over Ellis’s shoulder. “At least give me a hint?”
Ellis laughed. “I told you, this isn’t yours. Do you really think I’m stupid enough to work on your Christmas present right in front of you?” He handed Theo the notepad. “Does this look like something you’d want?”
Theo twisted the notepad this way and that. “I guess not. What is it?”
Ellis laughed. “It’s a tool box with rotating drawers so that you can always have the tools you want at the top. You’ve seen how Nyss fusses over her tools, lining them up in ever so perfect lines. With this she’ll be able to sort things to her heart’s content.”
Theo’s mouth twisted. “So this is her Christmas present?”
“Yep.” Ellis took the notepad back. Maybe I could add in some magnetic components, keep things in place even if it gets jostled …
“It isn’t very pretty.”
“Huh?” Ellis looked up.
Theo moved around the workbench to stand in front of him. “I mean, don’t girls want pretty stuff? A toolbox doesn’t seem very much like a present for a girl.”
“Well, Nyssa’s sensible. She likes useful things.” But even as Ellis said it, doubt crept into his brain. He stared at the diagram which moments before had seemed like a brilliant idea. “You don’t see her wearing fancy jewelry, laces, and bows much, do you?”
“I guess.” Theo shuffled his feet.
Ellis frowned. “Out with it. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“It’s just …When I was at the orphanage, I got socks every Christmas. They were practical, but they didn’t feel Christmasy.” The boy pulled up a stool. “I know Nyssa likes useful things, but maybe she likes pretty things, too. Maybe she doesn’t have pretty things because no one buys them for her, not because she doesn’t want them.”