by H. L. Burke
He looked up over the case and through the window. A dark-haired young woman in a peacoat barreled down the sidewalk on the other side of the street.
Nyss?
She turned her head slightly. Yes, definitely Nyssa. He wondered if he could catch her to tease her about her mysterious appointment with Amara. Before he could act, though, a handsome man rushed up and pulled Nyssa into his arms in an elegant maneuver that would’ve been more at place in a ballroom than on the street.
Ellis’s stomach tightened. That’s not Amara.
Nyssa stayed against the stranger’s chest for what felt like an eternity. A steam car rattled down the street. When it passed, Nyssa and the man had separated, but her back was to the street. The man, however, gazed at her quite intently.
Who is he? How does Nyssa know him? Why is he not Amara?
A trolley rattled by, obscuring Ellis’s view.
“Hey, Ellis, look!” Theo called.
“Please don’t touch that!” the clerk shouted.
Ellis spun his chair towards the commotion, then back to the window. Nyssa and the strange man were both gone.
Theo groaned and put down the china jewelry box he’d been clutching. “I just thought it would be nice for Nyssa.”
“Have you made any decisions yet, sir?” the clerk asked through a tight smile.
Ellis tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. It’s nothing. If she said she was meeting with Amara … the man … it’s nothing. “Yes, I think so. Could you wrap up this rose pendant?”
“Oh, an excellent choice.” The clerk’s stiff posture eased.
“And the jewelry box? From me, right, Ellis?” Theo asked.
“Yes, the jewelry box too.” Ellis forced a smile.
Nyssa wouldn’t lie to me. I’ll just ask her who her … handsome friend is when we get home. There’s bound to be a reasonable explanation.
***
Nyssa wiggled her toes inside her boots as the trolley finally rounded the corner onto her street. After the disaster with Henri, she’d tried to redeem the outing by finding a Christmas tree.Tried being the operative word. The closest she’d found consisted of some green wire wrapped about a roughly tree-shaped wooden skeleton. A shop girl swore up and down this was “supposed to be” a tree. That wouldn’t compare to the massive, marvelous trees of Ellis’s perfect childhood Christmases.
When the trolley pulled to a stop, she trudged out.
I’m not going to think about Christmas for the rest of the day. Tomorrow I’ll find the perfect gift for Ellis, but for now, Christmas doesn’t exist.
The palm trees lining the street swayed in a breath of wind. Puffy clouds skated across the sky, almost like snowballs.
“I wish it would snow,” she whispered.
I taught myself to repair clocks. Why do I need Henri to teach me dancing? I’ll go to the bookshop tomorrow and get a book on the subject. Books are better than arrogant dandies with stupid accents and God awful cologne.
She pushed open the shop door.
Ellis sat behind his workbench. His eyebrows melted together. “You’re later than I expected.”
Nyssa hesitated. Her plan could still work. If she let on about the failed lesson, her surprise would be ruined. She’d tell Ellis about the Henri disaster after Christmas. “I thought I’d try again to find a Christmas tree. Struck out.” Not completely a lie.
Ellis’s eyes narrowed. “Oh. That’s too bad.”
A chill cut through her. He suspects something … Shock me, I need to be careful or he’ll figure everything out. Quick, change the subject.
“Well, I’m just glad to be home. Does Mrs. H have dinner ready yet?” She started towards the back door, but he wheeled in front of her. Their eyes met, his expression dark and hard. Her stomach quivered. Even with the best of intentions, hiding things from Ellis grated like rusty nails on her soul.
He took her hand. “You look … worried.”
She shrugged. “Holiday pressure? I want this to go well, for all of us, especially Theo. Where is he?”
“Upstairs wrapping the gift he bought you today.”
Her cheeks warmed. Even Theo is better at Christmas than I am.
Ellis drew her hand closer and wrinkled his nose. “Are you wearing—perfume?”
She pulled away. Stupid Henri and his cologne.
“Some sample a shop girl sprayed at me. Awful, isn’t it?”
“A little … masculine is all.” He rolled away, his shoulders slumping. Stationing himself behind his workbench, he took up a screwdriver, then put it down, then picked it up again.
“Are you all right?” She tilted her head.
“It’s just … Nyss …” He cleared his throat. “You know I went shopping today?”
“You mentioned you planned to.”
“Well, while I was out—”
“Hey, Nyssa!” Theo burst into the room, beaming like an incandescent bulb. “You’ll never guess what I got you!”
“I’m not even going to try.” She forced a tight smile, still conscious of Ellis’s eyes on her.
“Ellis got you something pretty nice, too,” Theo said.
Nyssa’s bit her lip. Of course he did. Shock me, if this dancing thing doesn’t work out, what am I going to do?
“Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. H’s voice echoed from the hall.
“Bully!” Theo whooped and ran for the kitchen.
“Oh good. I’m hungry.” Nyssa smiled, relieved to escape the talk of Christmas gifts.
“I’m not really. Tell Mrs. H I’m working through dinner.” Ellis plugged in his soldering iron into his voltaic pile battery and began tinkering with some spare parts scattered around his desk. The corners of his mouth quirked down.
Nyssa hesitated. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” Sparks hissed from the soldering iron.
“Okay. Well, don’t forget your safety goggles.”
He scowled. “I’m not a child. Go eat.”
The harshness of his voice hit her in the chest. Ellis never snapped at her, even when she nagged. What’s gotten into him?
***
Ellis gritted his teeth and slammed his soldering iron down on the workbench. A mess of tin plates, fused together at slanting angles, stared up at him, completely useless, but he’d just wanted to throw things together.
In the wake of his accident, when his father grew distant and treated him like a broken machine rather than a human being, he’d taken to his workshop for days at a time. Out of that frustration had come his mechanized chair as well as several other smaller inventions. Sometimes, however, when it all came crashing down on him—that his mother was dead, that he’d never walk again, and that his father would never see him as “whole”—he would just hammer, weld, and drill scraps into twisted constructs that mirrored his mental state. He hadn’t felt the need to do that since he’d met Nyssa … Nyssa.
The red-tainted sun filtered through the front windows. He rested his forehead in his hands and sighed.
A shop girl with a perfume sample … like any shop girl would dare spray Nyssa if she didn’t want to be sprayed. She lied to me. Flat out lied. I should’ve just come out and told her what I saw.
He needed to believe there was a reason. They’d gone through so much together, life changing things. She was the first girl he’d ever kissed and the woman he wanted to spend his life with, and if she was lying to him … if she’d decided he wasn’t what she wanted, how would he pick up the pieces? Nyssa could have any man she wanted and that man would be lucky to have her. Thinking that she’d wanted him had made everything in his life so much sweeter.
His hands strayed to his thighs. He squeezed his lifeless legs. Though he couldn’t move them, if he pinched hard enough, there was pain, and he needed that pain right now. Hands clenching, he closed his eyes. I’m enough for her. Whatever the reason, it’s not because I can’t walk. She … she’s deeper than that. She wouldn’t tire of me because of that. Oh God
, please, let me be wrong.
“Master Ellis?”
Ellis glanced over his shoulder.
Mrs. H stood in the doorway, clutching a plate. “Are you sure you won’t have a bite?”
“I don’t really …” His stomach grumbled. “I guess I could eat.”
She turned up the gas lamp and placed a plate of meat and potatoes on the workbench beside the twisted metal he’d been shaping. Her brow furrowed. “Is that something for Miss Nyssa?”
He laughed. “No. That’s … nothing.” He swept it off the bench into a bin of scraps.
“Ah. Theo mentioned that you bought her something today. I was surprised you didn’t make her gift. You’re so clever with your inventions.” She pulled a stool across the room and sat on the other side of the bench. “Do you feel well? You don’t usually skip a meal.”
“I’m fine.” He reached under the bench to a small shelf where he kept his private papers and pulled out a white box. “This is what I got her. I could use a feminine opinion on it. Do you think it’s enough?” He slipped off the lid. The pearl caught the light of the lamps and gleamed.
“Oh, beautiful,” Mrs. H whispered. “Yes, I think any woman would love that.”
Ellis carefully placed it back on the hidden shelf. Even if Nyssa left him, he’d want her to have something for their time together. Whatever happened next, she’d changed his life, literally saved it more than once.
“Master Ellis …”
Ellis looked up.
Mrs. H pursed her lips. “What you asked, if it were enough … Christmas isn’t about it being ‘enough.’ Miss Nyssa will think whatever you give her is enough because it came from you, and to her, you’re enough.” She reached across the desk and touched his hand. “When I first met that girl, I could tell she’d been hurt, that beneath that put-together shell, there was a little girl who never had a chance to … well, be a little girl. I also saw that when she was with you, everything about her softened. For someone like Miss Nyssa trust is the most precious gift she can give a person.” Her eyes brightened, and she laughed. “If only she could find a way to gift wrap her trust, that would be a wonderful Christmas present, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it would.” An image of Nyssa herself wrapped beneath a Christmas tree flitted through his head and heat flushed through his body. He cleared his throat. “Thanks for dinner—and the talk.”
“It’s my pleasure, looking after two such excellent young people.” She stood and placed her hand on his shoulder. “If you were really smart, you’d take that necklace back and get Miss Nyssa a ring.”
Chapter Seven
Nyssa stood behind the shop counter, studying a diagram of Ellis’s chair. They’d worked on the chair together, once or twice. Ellis liked to tamper with it every so often, improving its speed or function. The machinery was almost like an extension of his own being, and Nyssa felt honored when he trusted her with any part of it.
Now, however, trying to “mess” with it without his knowledge, seemed a betrayal. Perhaps worth it, if successful, but still a betrayal. If this were to work, though, she’d need to figure the chair into the plan.
I should’ve been concentrating on the chair instead of wasting precious time with stupid Henri. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and all I have to show for my troubles are bruised toes. I think I can remember the steps Henri taught me well enough though. Back right, back left, feet together.
She quickly put her feet through the movements and felt decently competent.
Theo entered the shop, his shoulders slightly slumped and his eyes downcast. He glanced around. “Where’s Ellis?”
“Supply run,” Nyssa said. “He went to get the parts ordered we’ll need for next week’s repairs.”
“Oh.” Theo wandered over to the window display. Mrs. H had set up her creche in the center of the case, as if the videophones and radios were the magis’ presents for the Christ-Child. Theo stared down at the display. “At school they said we’re celebrating His birthday.”
“Yep.” Nyssa nodded.
“Then why do we get presents? Not Him?”
She chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t think He really needs anything from us. Also, it makes Him happy when we’re kind to one another. That’s why we give each other gifts.” She peered at Theo. His eyes lacked their usual sparkle. “Is something wrong?”
“Are you and Ellis fighting?” he asked.
Nyssa started. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”
“Well, he didn’t eat dinner with us last night, and you didn’t talk to each other at breakfast. You always talk at breakfast.”
She thought back over their morning. Ellis had seemed unusually subdued, and she had been avoiding conversation, but only to stop herself from giving away some hint of what she was up to. Her experience with Henri still rankled, making her long to tell Ellis about it. “Maybe he’s tired. He was up last night working late again … probably on your present.” She gave Theo an exaggerated wink.
The boy’s eyes widened, and a grin flitted across his face. “Do you know what it is?”
“No idea. Ellis is making it, though, so you know it is going to be amazing.”
“Golly … I haven’t made him anything yet.” Theo rubbed his hands together. “I got to go.” He snatched his toolbox from behind the counter and scampered up the stairs.
Nyssa laughed then returned to staring at the chair’s schematics.
“It can already hoist him upright … would it be possible for it to move his legs independently of each other?” She tapped the tip of her pencil against her lips. “Probably too ambitious.”
What really was required to dance anyway? If Henri weren’t such a jerk, I’d know by now. She bristled at the memory. Still, he had a point about leading. Maybe if the person leading were Ellis … She closed her eyes and imagined her head against Ellis’s shoulder, gently swaying back and forth.
The shop bell rang. Nyssa’s eyes flew open, blushing over the idiotic expression she was certain had been on her face.
Henri grinned at her from across the shop.
She started then scowled. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“Amara gave me your address. She was sad to hear our lesson ended so abruptly.” He crossed the room and leaned against the counter. “No woman has walked out on me before. You have fire. I like it.” He winked.
“Well, you can like it all the way home.” She stepped back from him, glad for the counter’s protection. “What part of ‘I’ll find another instructor’ didn’t you understand?”
“Where you think you will find another, for one.” He shrugged. Glancing down, he twirled the diagram of Ellis’s chair around and examined it. “This is your boyfriend’s?”
“That’s private.” She snatched at it, but he stood and held it out of reach.
“Clever design … an upright setting? Can the legs move independently?”
“No.” His cologne tickled her nose, making it twitch.
“A shame. If that were possible, this would be easier.” He eyed her. “When I said I could overcome any difficulty in dance, I meant it. My spirit does not allow me to retreat in the face of challenge, Miss Glass. If you wish to dance with your crippled boyfriend, then I shall make it happen.”
“I’m not particularly fond of that word.” She crossed her arms.
“What? Crippled? You must forgive my … bluntness? Offensiveness? I speak fluent Continental Standard, but it is not my first language, and tact …” He raised his hands, palms up. “I fear I can only be tactful in Parrisan. Sometimes the—how do you say—nuance? The nuance is lost in my communication.”
Nyssa let out a breath. Maybe I was too hard on him. I could use the help. “My plan is to somehow adjust the chair. I thought maybe I could make it so that it could follow my movements …”
“You’re just looking for an excuse to lead.” He chuckled. “I hate to see you give up on your dream to dance. It is an experience every woman
should have, being whisked across the ballroom by a confident, competent man who makes her feel like she is flying.”
“Well, this is more for Ellis than for me. I mean, I want to dance with him, but he spoke so fondly of seeing his parents dance at Christmas that …” Her throat tightened. “He’s given me so much. I want to give him back something wonderful.”
“So romantic.” Henri tilted his head. “Does a tender heart lurk behind that icy stare after all?”
“First I’m ‘fire’ now I’m ‘ice’?” She raised an eyebrow.
“A woman is always both and needs a man to melt and inflame her.” He handed her the schematic. “Give me one more chance. Come to my studio, tomorrow at two? I shall show you my best behavior.”
She shook her head. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Even you can’t work that miracle. It was hard enough when we had three days to work with, but just one?”
“You only want to learn one simple dance, correct? I can give you the basic steps. You won’t be the belle of the ball, but at least you won’t trip over your own feet.” He clasped his hands together. “Please?”
She chewed her bottom lip. “One more chance. For Ellis.”
“Of course, for dear Ellis.” His tone grew patronizing, and she recoiled.
He’s still a jerk, but he can dance. I can put up with him if it means figuring this out.
The shop bell rang again. Nyssa gazed past Henri, and her face went cold. Henri turned. Ellis’s fingers tightened on the arms of his chair.
Does he suspect something? How could he? He’s never seen Henri before. Nyssa cleared her throat. “This customer was just asking about a new Victrola. I told him we don’t have any in stock at this time.”
Ellis cleared his throat. “A Victrola, huh?” He steered his chair around Henri. The dancer pivoted, following Ellis’s path with his eyes.
Nyssa drilled her gaze into Henri’s forehead, wishing she could telepathically shout at him to leave. “I’m sure they have one at the music shop downtown. I can give you the address, if you want.”