by Maggie Marr
His mother would never befriend his wife. Her inability to be kind had not been caused by Noel; it was an inherent flaw within Sheila North. A flaw he’d come to terms with as a young boy. He loved his mother. How could he not? But warm, loving, kind? These were not adjectives he’d choose to describe his mother. Loyal, possessive, driven—those words fit his mother.
Nick settled into his chair. He could accept his mother’s flaws, he and his sister had both discussed and understood their mother’s limits, but he’d not been so aware of them when he’d been finishing graduate school and was preparing to propose to Noel. What had his mother said to Noel on that night? A deep breath filled his lungs and he placed his napkin on his lap. Over forty people sat around this table, most of them he barely knew, and yet they were his family. All Norths. The closeness he felt with Nonna and Noel was much deeper than for these very people, his mother included, who sat at this table.
Servers appeared and set the salad course before each guest. How odd and overwhelming this entire scene must have felt to Noel. How strange to see a group that called itself family so disconnected and unattached to each other. How she must have sat here, thinking of her own parents, whom she’d lost at much too young an age, and her grandmother, sitting home alone that Christmas Eve so that Noel might meet the people she expected to become her family. While the reception was rife with riches in this North Shore home—a seven-course meal served by white-gloved staff, a twenty-foot tree with thousands of dollars of wrapped merchandise beneath it, a home filled with artwork and crystal and silver and any luxury one could ever want—this home was lacking, this night was lacking. How cold this entire scene must have felt to the woman he’d hoped to make his bride. And he’d not realized any of it on that night five years before—how alone, how afraid, and how aloof it all appeared.
Nick’s heart cracked. He knew without a doubt what he wanted in his life, what he needed. He would do anything to keep Noel. If that meant leaving behind Chicago, North Industries, none of it mattered. The clarity that burst through him was a tremendous feeling. No doubts. No worries. Just the steadfast knowledge of what must happen in his life for him to be his best self. His happiest self. Nick stood. There were a number of things he needed to accomplish between this moment and tomorrow morning.
“Nicholas?” His mother’s voice was inquisitive, though her eyebrows couldn’t move. Such a fine plastic surgeon she kept on retainer.
“Sorry, Mother,” Nick said. He lifted an eyebrow but forced the smile to remain off his face. “Must go. Something quite urgent, simply cannot wait.” He pushed in his chair and dashed toward the door. He was certain. So very certain of what Noel needed and that he needed Noel. He turned back and his gaze once more passed over the scene of luxury before him, the room practically glittering.
“Merry Christmas everyone!” Nick yelled and raced from the room, leaving behind the stunned faces of people who were called family, and yet were people he barely knew.
*
Nonna wore her red plaid dress with gold thread woven through the fabric. She’d worn the dress every Christmas Eve that Noel could remember. They’d parked close to the church. Nonna didn’t like taking up one of the handicapped spots, but Noel had convinced Nonna that tonight, after being in the hospital, parking in the handicapped spot in front of the church wasn’t a luxury but a requirement for attending Christmas Eve mass.
Noel grasped Nonna’s arm and helped her out of the passenger seat. She was light as a feather. Noel’s teeth scraped together and she swallowed the fear that choked her throat. Nonna was her only family and she was old and frail and … oh my goodness, it hit Noel like a punch to the chest how much she was in denial over Nonna’s age.
Noel forced a smile onto her face and she clutched Nonna’s arm. Noel walked sure-footed, avoiding ice and snow. While the church staff had cleared a path to the door, Noel wanted to be certain that Nonna was safe.
“I wish Nicholas would have joined us.”
“He’s having dinner with his mother and extended family,” Noel said.
“And you chose me over her?” A teasing lilt entered Nonna’s voice. Nonna had to remember the aftermath of that one Christmas Eve that Noel had spent with Mr. and Mrs. North.
Noel pulled open the church door and warm air blasted her face. They walked through the lobby and down a side aisle toward the front of the church. Noel settled Nonna into a pew and made certain she was comfortable. Not far from where they sat was the nativity scene. Noel heard the choir in the loft above warming up and preparing to sing.
“I love Christmas Eve mass,” Nonna said. Her cheeks were pink with color. She gazed at the congregants as the pews filled with large families. Grandparents, parents, children, dozens of people who had gathered together to celebrate Christmas Eve. Nonna’s fingers wove through Noel’s.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Nonna said, her voice very soft. “I’m glad we have each other.”
Noel swallowed around the lump in her throat. They did have each other. She closed her eyes and pressed back the tears that threatened to fall. But for how much longer? How could she possibly tell Nonna she was thinking about leaving again? To return to Africa and take the job she’d been offered? How could she leave Nonna all alone?
“Silent Night” came from the choir loft, the voices strong and rich and full of Christmas love. Noel reached into her purse and dug for a tissue. The stinging sensation in her eyes and the lump in her throat grew.
The two of them, they were all they had. Their only family was each other. How had she been able to ignore that fact for so long, living far far away and pretending that Nonna was still the same strong, wonderful woman who had managed to raise Noel. She clasped Nonna’s hand. If there was a way to take Nonna to Africa with her, she would, but there wasn’t. Noel pressed the tissue under her eyes and swiped away the tears.
Nonna clasped her hand tighter and leaned toward her. “I know, dear, this service always gets me too. The singing and the nativity. The church is so packed with families.” She turned to Noel and bathed her in the warmth of her smile. “We’re so blessed, Noel. Blessed to have each other.”
Noel’s heart nearly burst. In her long and sometimes difficult life, Nonna had lost everyone she loved except Noel. She’d nearly lost her home, she’d spent most of the last week before Christmas in the hospital being poked and prodded, and yet Nonna could turn to Noel and say that the two of them were blessed? Oh goodness, where did the love come from? Noel smiled at Nonna and squeezed her hand. They were blessed—they were blessed with each other and love and so much more.
Chapter Thirteen
“You did a great job on Grandpa’s eggnog recipe,” Nonna said. She sipped the last drops from her glass.
“The bourbon doesn’t hurt,” Noel said.
Nonna set her empty glass on the tray and Noel lifted it and walked toward the kitchen. The fire crackled in the fireplace and the white lights that adorned Nonna’s tree glittered in the darkness. The scene was warm and lovely and similar to their Christmases together for the past decade and a half. She and Nonna—alone.
Noel rinsed the glasses in the sink and washed the plate that had contained homemade gingersnap cookies. Nick floated through her mind. She wanted him here, with her and Nonna. How strange that her mind wandered to him as though he were a part of their family, as though his absence was felt, as though he should be here instead of on the North Shore with his mother and all the other members of the North family. As though, after this morning, they’d have a future together.
Noel dried the glassware and the fine china. Nonna used these plates with the pictures of holly hand-painted onto the fragile china only on Christmas Eve and Christmas.
“Nonna, do you want anything else?” Noel dried her hands on the white towel that hung on the refrigerator door. She turned the corner into the living room where Nonna stood near the wall beside the Christmas tree. Noel walked up behind her. A smile lit Nonna’s face and her fingertips re
ached out and touched the glass of the framed picture that hung beside the tree.
“I miss them,” Nonna said. “Especially on Christmas.” Nonna pressed a kiss to her fingertip and then pressed that fingertip to the face of Noel’s mother. Mom had tried to tame Noel’s wild red curls for the Klaus family picture by pulling them back into a ponytail, but the curls still framed her green eyes and fair face. “Your father was so handsome.”
Noel followed Nonna’s gaze to Chuck Klaus, Noel’s father, the only son of Nonna and Grandpa. He sat with his arm wrapped around her mom.
“He loved your mother with a passion and a fierceness that I’ve only seen once before and once since.”
This picture had been taken the Christmas season before her parents’ death. In the picture Noel sat just in front of her parents and beside Nonna. Noel remembered the soft rich fabric of the red velvet dress she’d worn.
“You remember the argument Mom and I had over my shoes?” Noel asked.
“Do I remember?” Nonna shook her head. “I think our entire neighborhood heard that argument. You weren’t going to wear those shoes.” Nonna looked over at Noel. “But you did.”
“Only because of the deal we struck. I had to wear those shoes for the picture, but I could wear the shoes I wanted on Christmas Eve and on Christmas Day.”
“Doc Martens, yes? I probably still have them packed away somewhere.” Nonna’s fingers traced across the picture to Grandpa. “I was so lucky to meet your grandfather. Poor man had to prove that to me.” A tiny laugh left Nonna’s lips. “I didn’t notice him at first. Didn’t really think much of him. He asked me out three or four times before I said yes. And then he asked me to get married twice. He knew … long before I knew … just how right we were for each other.”
Nonna turned away from the picture. Her gaze was soft, yet strong, and focused on Noel. “That’s how it works sometimes. We don’t always recognize the love we need, the love that is best for us, the love that makes us our best self.” Nonna pulled a strand of Noel’s hair behind her ear. “That kind of love can be terrifying, because while it allows us to remain who we are, it also transforms us, and that idea of transformation can be hard for our minds to understand.” Nonna pressed her hand to her chest. “But our heart knows, even when our head tells us something different. Our heart, and, well … with your grandfather and me, other parts of our bodies as well.”
“Nonna!” Heat blossomed in Noel’s chest and flushed to her face.
“What? I’m old but I’m not dead. You’re a grown woman. Your grandfather and I had an incredible sex life. I thank God above for that as well as the love that was in our marriage. Don’t think for a minute that times weren’t tough on occasion, because they were. There were many times when I didn’t want to be married to your grandfather. Mind you, I didn’t want to be married to anyone else.” Nonna shook her head. “I was simply angry at the man and didn’t want to be married to him.” Nonna turned her gaze back to the picture of their family of five. A family where now only two remained. “I’m so lucky to have had him, and your mother and father.” She looked at Noel. “And you, my love. Always so lucky to have you.”
Noel nodded. She missed her mother and father and grandfather so much on all the holidays, but Christmas hit especially hard. Christmas had been the final holiday they’d all shared as a family. This picture, the one that Nonna and Noel stood before, was the last family portrait taken.
“I want this for you, Noel. Love like this. Family.” Nonna turned to her again. Her eyes were slick with tears but there was a strength in her gaze. “Don’t let what happened to our family—the death of your parents, the death of Grandpa—don’t let that cause you not to trust love. Because a love like the one I shared with Grandpa or like your mother and father shared, a deep and abiding love, is worth all the fears you’ll have to face.”
Noel pressed her lips tight together. Was she afraid of love? Was she afraid to give her heart to someone? Was that the reason she’d run from Nick all those years before and was once again leaving for Africa?
“You know who you are now. You’ve lived some life. Nick is different too, and yet the same man. The way he looks at you …” Nonna sighed and a gentle smile pulled across her lips. “My darling, the way he looks at you … he loves you with every bit of his being.”
Noel tore her eyes from Nonna’s intent gaze. Her chest tightened and she forced air in and out of her lungs. She did love Nick. Then what was this pain that clutched inside her chest? Fear? Confusion? A deep pain caused from her denial of their love years before?
“I do love him, Nonna, I truly do.”
“Then be with him, my lovely girl. It’s just that simple. I promise you it is.” Nonna glanced back at the photo. She pressed her fingertips to her lips once more and then pressed them to Grandpa’s face. “Be with the one you love, be with him for every second of every minute of every hour, of every day that you’re lucky enough to share.” Nonna looked into Noel’s eyes. “Be with him.”
*
“Frederick, why are you here?” Nick stood in the center of his living room with boxes and wrapping paper and tape and scissors. How could a man with so much money never have wrapped a present? Perhaps the obscene amount of money was the very answer to Nick’s question. He paid people to gift wrap for him. Unfortunately, with his newfound appreciation for Christmas, he couldn’t stomach the idea of asking one of his assistants to come in and take care of the packages he needed to wrap.
“Sir, the bank called. They were concerned with some charges on your card.” Frederick’s eyes swept the penthouse living room. “Unusual purchases. When I tried your phone, it went directly to voice mail. Then I attempted to call your housekeeper and your assistants and they indicated you’d given them today and tomorrow and in fact the entire weekend off.” Frederick lifted an eyebrow. “That was when I grew concerned.” Frederick walked farther into the penthouse. “Since I found all of this most unusual, I decided that I might come by simply to be sure—”
“That the old scrooge hadn’t been offed, my credit cards stolen, and my phone tossed in Lake Michigan?”
“While I did not allow my imagination to go quite that dark, Mr. North, I was worried.” Frederick waved his hand toward the chaos of boxes and wrapping paper. “But I see there is no cause for alarm. Only that you seem to have caught the Christmas spirit.” Frederick looked past Nick toward the Christmas tree. “You decorated, sir?”
“Ha!” A laugh shot from Nick’s mouth and he shook his head with a giant smile on his face. “Do these decorations look like my choice? Pink and purple and a fifteen-foot white-flocked Christmas tree?” Nick shook his head but couldn’t seem to get the smile off his face. “You should see the damned sweater she expects me to wear.”
“Miss Klaus,” Frederick asked. The corners of his mouth lifted.
“Yes, Frederick, Miss Klaus has decorated and seems to have turned my entire home into the North Pole and my existence upside down.”
“Love will do that, sir,” Frederick said. “Especially when we choose to love someone so different from ourselves.”
“You’ve noticed?” Nick asked. He lifted a roll of gold wrapping paper and spread it across the long table behind the couch.
Frederick walked over and held down the far end of the wrapping paper. “I’ve noticed that Miss Klaus is opinionated and smart and quite beautiful, and she seems to bring out a part of you that is actually quite filled with joy.”
“Me?” Nick shook his head and sliced the scissors through the wrapping paper. “Filled with joy? Don’t let that get out.”
“I wouldn’t dare, sir. Might be bad for business.”
“Very bad,” Nick said again with the silly smile he couldn’t seem to erase from his face when thinking of Noel. “Unfortunately, Miss Klaus doesn’t seem to yet understand how in love we are. Therefore, I’m asking her to marry me.” Joy flew through Nick’s chest from actually telling Frederick his intent. “I asked her grandmother
for permission. I’m quite prepared for Noel to tell me no.” He folded the paper over the box and slapped a piece of tape to the seam.
“Again, sir?”
“Yes, and again and again and again.” Nick looked up at Frederick. “I intend to ask her every day for the rest of her life if I must. Until she says yes. Until she figures out, as I have, that we are meant to be together. We are meant to be a couple. There is no one else for her and no one else for me. Guess we’ll see just how smart Miss Klaus is.”
“Yes, sir, we will,” Frederick said. “I’m very happy for you. She is your perfect match.”
Nick pulled the paper up and taped the corner, then plopped a bow on top of the box. “I agree, Frederick. Now I simply have to convince Noel.”
*
Noel kicked her foot from beneath the wedding-ring quilt on the bed in the guest bedroom. She rolled onto her back. There was no comfort in this bed. She sat up and turned on the light. She could not still her heart. She could not get Nick from her mind. Nor all the things that Nonna had said. Had his Christmas Eve with his family been happy? Had he thought of her? Had he wished she were with him? She felt foolish even wondering those things. Noel crossed her arms over her chest.
She reached out and flipped her phone over on the nightstand. No more messages. WFP wanted Noel’s decision before Christmas, but Noel had responded and asked to be given until just after Christmas to decide.
What was her decision? Hadn’t she told Nick just this morning that she was taking the job, that she was going to move to Africa for another three years, that she didn’t want to be his wife? She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. Then why was she so torn? Why did she feel as though she was making the wrong decision, repeating a mistake by leaving Nonna and Nick?