An Heirloom Christmas

by Squires, Megan

  “Oh gosh. I’d forgotten about that! Remember how I panicked and overcorrected and we ended up doing a complete three-sixty? It’s amazing we still won.”

  “It was especially slushy that day. People were skidding and dumping out of their sleds left and right. I think Marcie and Tuck even crossed the finish line backward. Today’s layer of powder is going to help all of us out. Like a fresh, cottony slate.” He motioned toward the sled with a lift of his chin. “Go ahead. Climb in.”

  Chrissy stepped over the cardboard flank, her boot hooking on the edge. The decorative bells jingled. “Sorry. I’ll try not to completely ruin it.” She lowered down and sat, shimmying up to the front.

  “I brought duct tape. You’re fine.”

  Hauling his leg over the side, Nick sank onto the sled, right behind Chrissy. His immediate presence at her back was expected, but the shiver it elicited was not. She slowly released a quiet breath.

  “See those handles down by your feet?” Chrissy looked down. She saw them. “I added those this year so you have something to hold onto.”

  She angled her head, scoping out the remainder of the sled behind her. “Just one set? What will you hold onto?”

  Nick moved his mouth close to her cheek as he slid his arms around her waist and said, “You.”

  Chrissy’s breath whooshed out. “Right.” How she managed a stutter on just one syllable baffled her, but it happened. “Makes sense.”

  “Let’s test this out. Go ahead and lean left,” Nick instructed. She felt his secure grip tug her gently to the side. She shifted her weight in response. “Good. Now right.”

  She leaned the other direction.

  “Pull back.”

  Hesitantly, Chrissy pressed her shoulders backward, meeting Nick’s chest like she was almost leaning on him. She was grateful for the puffy jacket she’d just purchased and the layers it provided between them.

  “Great. I think we’re ready.” If he was as nervous as she was, he did a good job masking it. He lifted out of the sled and held a hand out for Chrissy. “We’re in the second heat, so we have a little bit of time. Want to grab some hot chocolate and watch our competition from the sidelines? My treat.”

  “I think that sounds like a great plan. And Nick?”

  He swiveled around. “Yeah?”

  “Try not to scream like a little girl when we speed down the raceway. Last time my ears rang for a full week.”

  He reached in his pocket, pulled out a set of earplugs, and tossed them her direction. “Sorry, Chrissy. No promises.”

  Nick

  THE TIME TO beat was one minute, twelve seconds.

  Four teams were disqualified in the first heats. One veered recklessly off the path, eventually coming to a stop at the base of a hollowed out evergreen. Thankfully, no one was hurt, other than a bruised ego or two. Another pair was disqualified for illegal use of tinsel. Nick still wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but it gave the remaining teams a greater chance at the trophy, so he didn’t delve too deep. The third was cut from the competition after purposefully ramming into an opposing sled and the last lost their spot because one racer fell ill that morning and they swapped out drivers without notifying the judges beforehand.

  To his surprise, the Jingle Bells sled held its own and only required a few minor touchups after the qualifying round. Their official time was one minute, twenty-two seconds, but Nick was confident they could shave off a few seconds in the final race. He knew that his nerves didn’t help the situation any and he hoped to get those under control the second go around.

  It turned out a minute and a half was a long time to hold someone in your arms. Nick overthought every move, wondering if Chrissy focused on their closeness as much as he did. He couldn’t read her reactions. She’d hunkered down deep in the front of the sled, her hair whipping out behind her like a cape, tickling Nick’s nose and occasionally flying into his eyes which obscured his vision. Even still, Chrissy navigated well when he couldn’t see clearly and they crossed the finish line with an impressive time under their belts.

  “Looks like it’s down to us, your dad and Kevin, the LOL’s and Corey and Robert Taylor.” Chrissy read the results from the leaderboard. “Too bad Tucker and Marcie didn’t make the cut.”

  “I think they’re okay with it,” Nick said. “They both mentioned they needed to head over to the tree lot to open it up for the day, anyway.”

  “I wouldn’t think they’d have much business until the races are over. Looks like the entire population of Heirloom Point is here.”

  “It sure does, doesn’t it?” From the wreath auction to the sledding races, Nick was continually impressed with the town’s supportive showing. “So, do you have any final suggestions for our next run?”

  “I have one,” Doris snickered as she sauntered up. “Try to keep up with us old gals.”

  “I thought you had more birds on you earlier this morning.” Nick cocked his head, puzzled.

  Doris glanced down at the flock of fake birds pinned to her holiday sweater. “I lost two turtledoves and a French hen up at the top of the hill. Nita’s looking for them now.”

  “Those weren’t real then?” Chrissy looked shocked. “Oh, thank goodness! I think we ran over one during our race and I’ve been feeling so guilty about it this entire time. I honestly thought I took out a tiny woodland bird!”

  “You can take out all the birds you like, so long as you don’t take us off the podium.”

  “Is it strange that I’m actually a little intimidated?” Nick whispered to Chrissy as soon as Doris was out of earshot.

  “She talks a big game, that’s for sure. But she’s harmless. And if we can avoid any of her discarded fowl on the way down, I think we can increase our speed and lessen our time. The race is ours to lose at this point.”

  “I like your strategy.” Nick thumbed his chin. “And Chrissy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You got some kind of hair tie to put all that hair back in? I couldn’t see for a while there.”

  Chrissy’s hand flew up to her beautiful auburn mane. “I’m so sorry, Nick! I didn’t even think about that!”

  “It’s no biggie.” Then, smiling he said, “You still use the same apple shampoo from high school, don’t you?”

  A blush crept across her cheeks as she shoved her hand into her pocket to pull out a rubber band. “I’m a bit of a creature of habit,” she admitted as she twisted the dark strands into a low ponytail at the base of her neck.

  “Me too.”

  “Remaining racers!” Everleigh’s voice broke into their conversation, magnified through the megaphone speaker. “Please begin hauling your sleds up the hill! The final race will take place fifteen minutes from now!”

  Reaching down to grab the rope handle, Nick held it out for Chrissy to take hold, too. “What do you say we go crush some Christmas carol competition?”

  * * *

  NICK BACKED HIS truck into the driveway and killed the engine. From his rearview mirror, he could see the garage door open, rolling up panel by panel to reveal Chrissy standing on the other side. Nick hopped down from the vehicle and rounded the bumper.

  “Thanks for storing it here,” he said as he hauled the sled out of the truck bed. They’d already removed the cardboard decorations as the snow did its expected job of turning it into a soggy, disintegrating mess. “I don’t have a lot of storage at the rental.”

  “No problem. There’s some room in the rafters if you think we can hoist it up there.”

  “Between the two of us, I bet we can manage.”

  Nick lifted the sled over his shoulders, shifting to get his footing right so he could manage the awkward weight of it. Steadying himself, he strode into the garage.

  “Wait!” Chrissy called out just as he was about to raise the sled higher to shove up in between the exposed beams. “We forgot something.”

  “What’s that?”

  Grabbing a pocket knife from a nearby workbench, Chrissy flipped it open
. The blade swiveled out. “We need to carve another tally.”

  “How could I forget?” Nick lowered the hefty sled onto the bench. “Would you like to do the honors?”

  “I think we both should.” Extending her hand, she cradled the small knife in her palm.

  “I think that’s a great idea.”

  Nick took both her hand and the pocketknife and wrapped his fingers around the instrument. Then, holding onto the knife together, they etched another groove into the wooden slat. Chrissy rested her hand on Nick’s a moment longer as they looked at the tallies.

  “Five wins. Not too shabby,” she said.

  “Not at all. I think we really lucked out with the LOL’s ultimately getting disqualified. I had no idea you had to cross the finish line with ninety percent of your decorations still intact.”

  Chrissy snickered. “I think by the time they finally made it down the slopes, they only had eight days of Christmas represented on their sled. I’m certain we passed at least four golden rings and an entire partridge in a pear tree on our way down.”

  “All they had to do was ask to borrow some duct tape. I would’ve shared.”

  “Right, but then I think we’d be sharing the title, and this is one I’m happy to have the only claim to.”

  “Me too, Chrissy.”

  Letting go of his hand, she looked down at the garage floor and then smoothed her palms on the thighs of her pants. “Nick, thanks again for agreeing to do this with me. I know it was out of your comfort zone, but I had a lot of fun. Felt like a kid again, actually.”

  “I did, too,” Nick said. The butterflies, the adrenaline.

  “I suppose it’s only fair that I agree to attend the dance with you, then. Step outside of my comfort zone a little, too.” Her smile was tentative, like she wasn’t fully confident in wearing it.

  “The dance?”

  “The Heirloom Point Winter Ball? Next Friday night? I got the invitation.”

  He wasn’t sure what invitation she referred to, but he saw this as an invitation to spend more time with Chrissy, and he wasn’t about to let that opportunity pass him by.

  “Oh! Right. The ball,” he said, nodding, like it merely slipped his mind for a moment. “So, would you want to go?”

  “I think so. But it’s been a long time since I’ve been to a dance, Nick. I’m not sure I even remember how.”

  “I’m in the same boat. I think we just have to remember that—unlike this morning’s adventure—a dance isn’t a competition. Just an opportunity to dress up and have a good time.”

  Relief relaxed her features. “I don’t even know what to wear. I don’t have a dress fit for a ball. Looks like I’ll have to do a little shopping between now and then.” The growing grin she wore indicated she wasn’t too upset about that fact. “What about you? Did you ever need anything fancy when you were out on the road?”

  “I have a couple nice suits from the times I had to attend benefits or other publicity functions. They’re still in storage, but I’ve been thinking it’s probably time I ship out the rest of my things from Newcastle.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. There’s no real sense in keeping an empty apartment in a city I’ll likely never set foot in again. And my things are just collecting dust in storage, anyway. It’ll be good to have all the pieces of my life back in one place.”

  “That’s a pretty big decision, Nick,” Chrissy said, “to decide to come home for good.”

  “It might be a big one, but it’s an easy one.”

  * * *

  “I BROUGHT YOU a housewarming present.” With arms outstretched, Chrissy shoved a small green gift bag over the threshold and into Nick’s hands.

  “You didn’t need to do that.” He took the bag and stepped aside to allow her in. “I’ve lived here almost two weeks already.”

  “I know, but it’s the first time I’ve seen your place and showing up empty handed doesn’t feel right. It’s just a candle, anyway. Nothing big.”

  “No such thing as just a candle if it came from your shop.” He reached his hand into the bag and pulled out the scrunched tissue paper surrounding the jar, then tossed it to the floor. His place was a mess already, strewn with large brown boxes that were dropped off a few days earlier. He’d eventually clean it all up once everything was unpacked. “An Heirloom Christmas,” he read from the festive label. Unscrewing the lid, Nick raised the jar to his nose. “This smells so good.” He took another breath. “Wow.”

  “You’re officially the first to own one. I’m putting them out in the shop tomorrow morning.”

  “Well, I’m honored, Chrissy. Let me grab a match and find a place for it.” He paced to the kitchen and withdrew a book of matches from a drawer before striking one on the side of the packet. The matchstick flared to life and he passed the flame off to the wick. “I really like this scent. It reminds me of all the things I love most about Heirloom Point. How did you manage to wrap all that into one candle?” he asked rhetorically. “Amazing. Thank you for this, Chrissy. It’s great.”

  “You know what else is great?” The front door flew open, the handle ricocheting off the wall, and Tucker appeared. He held two cardboard pizza boxes high in the air. “Dinner! I brought sustenance in the forms of pepperoni and pineapple. I hope you’re hungry.”

  “I know I am.” Everleigh shoved around Tucker. She uncoiled her scarf and slipped her jacket from her shoulders, then dropped them onto the back of the couch. “Let me have at that Hawaiian pizza. My favorite!”

  “Sis!” Chrissy rushed over. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “Many hands make light work and by the looks of it, Nick could benefit from a few more hands. Or an octopus. I’ve never seen so many boxes in one space before. Just how big was your apartment back in Newcastle?”

  “It was pretty big.” Nick opened a cupboard and pulled down a stack of plates and plastic cups, and then got a two-liter of soda out of the refrigerator. “Honestly, I was never really there, so it was a waste to have that much square footage and that much in rent. If I had been a little wiser with my finances, I might be in a different position right now.”

  “Maybe so, but we wouldn’t all be together, sharing the holidays and this piping hot pizza. I know I’m not just speaking for myself when I say I’m glad you decided to come home, Moose.”

  Fanning a slice of pizza with her hand, Everleigh blew out a cooling breath and then agreed, “It’s like old times, just with a lot more baggage.” She swiveled her gaze around the room. “Seriously, where do we even start?”

  “Anywhere you can. Most of it is probably junk anyway, but it’ll be good to sort through.”

  “You know the saying: one man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” Tucker said.

  “Yeah, but sometimes one man’s trash is still just garbage. Feel free to toss anything you think I won’t need. I doubt I’ll even miss it.”

  Chrissy

  CHRISSY POURED HERSELF a cup of coffee and pressed her hands to the kitchen island. It took great effort to keep her gaze fixed out the window over the sink and not on the newspaper clipping resting on the counter next to her.

  There was so much joy outside in the forms of newly constructed snowmen and inflatable Christmas yard decorations and the laughter that floated on the air as young children threw snowballs at their siblings in the hopes of getting in a surprise shot. The sky was cloudless, the streets full, and Chrissy knew her heart should burst with cheer but each time she reread the article, all of that joy whooshed out of her.

  She’d managed to avoid Nick’s calls and his presence for two days by saying she’d come down with a nasty cold and needed her rest. She even dodged his attempt to drop off homemade chicken noodle soup. She didn’t want Nick to catch her illness just before the dance. He bought the lie and graciously gave Chrissy her space.

  But she hated lying to him. It felt so unnatural. Reaching for the mug, Chrissy sighed and dumped the coffee down the sink drain. The strong drink wou
ldn’t do anything to calm her already twisting stomach. Likely, it would only make it worse. Instead, she pulled two pieces of bread from the tin breadbox and dropped them into the toaster. When they jumped up in their slots minutes later, she flinched, even though she’d been expecting it. Her nerves were rattled, her spirit weary.

  She buttered the bread while the toast was still hot in her hands and the pads melted quickly. She would force herself to choke it down. She needed to take care of herself so she didn’t actually fulfill the fabricated lie about being under the weather.

  She wondered if being physically sick and being heartsick were that much different after all. It felt the same, that heavy fog settling in, the urge to stay curled up under the covers rather than face the day, the craving for peace and quiet and solitude.

  Against her better judgment, Chrissy snagged the article for her morning reading material and plated the toast to take to the dining table. Maybe another read through would clarify things. She had skimmed it half a dozen times already, hoping the words would rearrange on the page to form something new. Something that didn’t crumble her confidence. Unfortunately, with each read the letters became more fixed in their positions than ever, and their meaning became even more engrained in her heart than she thought possible.

  She fought the betraying smile that pulled at her lips when she took in the black and white portrait of a young Nick. He was baby-faced and courage-filled. Only now could she recognize this look as hope. For his career. For his future.

  She held a bite of toast in her mouth as she read the article.

  Who is Nick McHenry, the Newest Power Forward for the Newcastle Northern Lights?

  You’ve probably noticed him on your television screen this season, both his large, imposing size and quick maneuvering ability making him a leader in points and penalties. Twenty-one-year-old Nick McHenry may play a tough game on the ice, but what do we know about the other areas of his life? Newcastle Tribune’s Fiona Boyle sat down with the handsome, rising star to learn a bit more about his future in the rink (and in romance).