“Of course not,” I said, a little bit shyly. I think it was this whole exchange that really made it click for me. This man who’d blown to my door completely naked in a blizzard was actually serious about wanting to be there for the two of us... “We’d love it if you could stay, Nole.”
“Yayyyyyy!” said Jule, and leapt up from her grilled cheese right then and there. She ran from the kitchen, and pounded up the stairs three at a time on her way to the upstairs shower.
“I said after you finish your lunch!” I called after her, rolling my eyes. But already I could hear the bathroom door slam, and the water beginning to surge through the pipes overhead. I turned back to Nole, and we stood smiling in silence at one another for a moment.
“She’s a sweetheart,” he said before I could think of anything.
“Thank you,” I said. “But you really don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
“Of course I want to,” he said, and began to move over closer to me. “Unless you don’t want me here? I mean if this was just a snowbooty call I totally understand...”
I laughed. “Of course not,” I said. “I would love for you to stay and help us bake this afternoon. I guess just not used to being with someone who has an interest in that sort of thing...”
“I’m very interested in that sort of thing,” he said, and wrapped his arms around me in my bathrobe. “But I’m interested in spending time with you, more than anything...”
I pulled me in close to him. I felt the hardness of his muscles pressed up against me, and shivered as I remembered the exquisite passion we’d shared the night before.
“Ugh, come on... I probably smell more like bad egg nog than my daughter does,” I said, feeling all-around self-conscious about my unwashed state.
“Not at all,” he said in a low, seductive voice. “You smell like sugar, spice, and everything nice...”
Then he pulled my face gently into his, and gave me a long, warm, exquisite kiss on the lips.
_____
I didn’t expect our gingerbread men to be anything special. They were mostly just the standard recipe- flour, eggs, brown sugar, and molasses. Along with just the right amount of ginger, nutmeg, and cinnamon, and each individually frosted to have its own distinct personality.
And don’t get me wrong, we had a lot of fun making them. I was instantly glad Jule had begged Nole to stay, and I couldn’t even begin to remember the last time our kitchen had been filled with so much laughter.
We took turns mixing and rolling out the dough, we kept rubbing flour on each other’s noses, and Nole kept telling all kinds of goofy holiday-themed dad jokes that kept making me laugh almost as hard as Jule did. Jule kept decapitating her gingerbreads’ unbaked heads with a butter knife, making me and Nole both laugh, and forcing us to ball them back up into dough, roll them back out again and cut them back into shape.
Once we’d made a suitable enough mess in the kitchen (it looked like the snowstorm that had apparently birthed Nole into existence had found its way into our house and powdered over everything, and Nole very chivalrously volunteered to be the one to clean up for us afterward), we lined our battalion of troops up on a cookie sheet and popped them in the oven.
We spent the waiting time alternating back and forth between the kitchen to check on them, and watching the old 1960’s Grinch cartoon on Freeform in the living room. A Charlie Brown Christmas came on after that, and we left it on in the background while the three of us returned to the kitchen table to decorate our creations, laughing and joking as before, though all three of us stopping reverently to listen in on Linus’s speech near the end of the half hour.
Like I said, we all had a lot of fun together. As far as I knew we’d just spent a lovely afternoon making some very average gingerbread cookies together, and that was that.
What I didn’t expect, though, was for Jule to take a first bite from one of the cookies she’d decorated herself, then to instantly freeze mid-chew, and her pupils to become dilated.
I blinked at her, obviously growing concerned.
“Jule?” I asked, trying to make sense of what was happening.
“Oh. My. LANTA.” she finally managed to say, leaving me no more enlightened.
“What? What is it, sweetie?” I asked, vaguely wondering where she’d learned that expression (probably me.)
“You need to try one of these,” she answered by way of forcing a gingerbread girl into my hands.
I raised an eyebrow at her and laughed. “Okay, okay, I plan to,” I said, expecting this all to just be childish exaggeration on her part. Having been a baker all my life, I had developed quite a discriminating palate for cookies, after all.
But that was when I took that first bite. My teeth sank into the dough, neither too firm nor too soft. The spices popped against my taste buds, and an all-encompassing warmth flooded over me.
I was as stunned as my daughter was, and sat staring morbidly at my headless gingerbread gal for several seconds after I took that first bite.
“Oh, sweet Father Christmas...” I finally managed to say. “That was- this is- the best cookie I have ever tasted in my freakin’ life!”
I looked over at Nole, who was, once again, smiling at me.
“I may have sneaked in an extra ingredient of my own while the two of you weren’t looking...” he said smoothly. “I thought maybe you would like it...”
I scarfed down the rest of my gingerbread girl in two bites. Then I grabbed another warm body from the tray. Then another one, and I had to force myself to stop after that. I’m pretty sure Jule got all the way up to five or six cookies before I noticed and stopped her, and then the two of us as one turned to look over at Nole.
“What in stuffed stockings did you put in these cookies?!” I asked, already salivating for another one.
Nole smirked, then reached into his pants pocket, and lifted up a glass dropper that looked similar to our nutmeg jar, but with a substance that can only be described as pure, shimmering glitter inside.
“Just a pinch or two of this,” he said, and the container made an unexpected sound like jingle bells when he shook it. “It’s an old family secret, passed down to me through generations...”
“Is that drugs?” asked Jule, and I would’ve laughed if I hadn’t been so enthralled at that moment.
“No sweetie,” I said, and I understood it without Nole even having to explain it to me, a world of possibilities suddenly opening up before my very eyes. “That’s Christmas magic...”
Chapter Seven - Boxing Day
“Where did you even meet him?” asked Suzie Q a few days later, sounding less like a mature adult than the gossiping teenager I’d befriended so many years ago in high school. I thought there was also a tinge of jealousy in her voice that I’m ashamed to admit felt a little bit gratifying. And honestly, I couldn’t blame her as we watched Nole moving around through the ovens in back, sweat dripping along his muscles as he shuffled trays around, a white apron clinging to that magnificent body of his.
Who wouldn’t be jealous of that, I thought? And to think, he was all mine...
“Just some stupid dating app,” I replied, having decided on this as an alternative narrative to what had actually taken place. It just felt like there would be a lot fewer unwelcome questions that way.
“He doesn’t by any chance have a twin brother who’s single, does he?” Susan asked, and I smiled with satisfaction.
“Afraid not,” I said. “Nole is one of a kind, and the two of us were made for each other.”
“I’m so happy for you,” said Susan. “I mean, you seem like you’re doing so well these days! I know you were having a tough time for a while, but I mean look at you!”
I beamed at her. “Thanks so much, Suzie Q,” I said. “Things have gotten so much easier with Nole around. I was even able to give Marie a well-deserved and long overdue Christmas bonus this year, and gave her the next couple of weeks off to go and spend the holidays with her grandkids.”
&
nbsp; “Aww, that’s so sweet!” said Susan.
“It’s just so great not to feel like I’m just barely keeping my head above water all the time,” I said. “I’ve paid off all my debts, I ordered some new equipment we’ve been needing to install for ages now, and business has never been better!”
“I swear, it’s gotta be those gingerbread men you started selling,” Susan said, like she was telling me something I didn’t already know. “Everyone around has been talking about them! And honestly I should be mad at you; those molasses SOB’s are totally screwing up my diet... They’re just too delicious to keep my hands off of!”
“All thanks to Nole,” I said, “It’s his recipe, and they’ve totally led to a huge spike in sales. Oh, and between you and me? Nole’s also too delicious for me to keep my hands off of ...”
The two of us cackled like two she-devils at a bachelorette party, and at just that moment the man of the hour emerged from the back, smelling sweetly of nutmeg and ginger. We did our best to get ourselves under control.
“Ladies,” he said with a nod, and I exchanged another playful, naughty look with Susan. “You sound like you’re having a pretty lively conversation out here...”
“Oh, for sure,” I said. “And it definitely wasn’t about you. Nope, not at all...”
He grinned. “Weird, I thought I felt my ears getting pretty hot back there. I guess that was just the ovens...”
“Is there ever a part of you that isn’t pretty hot?” quipped Susan, and maybe I should’ve been upset about how openly flirtatious this was, but instead the two of us just burst into another fit of giggles.
“Alright, Miss Susan,” said Nole, the only actual adult among the three of us at that moment as he carefully slid his tray full of gingerbread men into a to-go box. “Two dozen gingerbread citizens, fresh from the oven and ready to be enjoyed!”
He slid the box across the counter to her, and she grabbed it excitedly by the handle.
“Thank you so much!” said Susan, beaming at both of us. “I’ve been bragging to my co-workers all week about how good these are! You should probably expect a bunch of them in here this weekend wanting to order some for themselves...”
“We’ll be ready for them,” said Nole in a soldier-like manner, tipping the stovepipe hat he’d taken to wearing whenever he came into the bakery. I’d thought it was pretty silly at first, but I decided I liked how festive it was on him once I got used to seeing him with it on.
“Okay, so how much do I owe you for these again?” Susan asked me, reaching into her purse to pull out her wallet.
“You know what?” I said. “Forget about it. It’s on the house this time.”
She looked up at me, surprised. “What? No, I can’t do that...”
“Sure you can,” I insisted. “We’re friends, it’s Christmas, business is booming... And honestly, I’ve never been in a situation where I could afford to give cookies away for free, and it feels kinda nice.”
“Awww,” said Susan, and slid her billfold back into her purse. “You’re absolutely sure?”
“One hundred percent,” I said. “Just make good on your promise to bring in some new customers, and that’s all the payment I need.”
“That’s right,” said Nole. “If you tell two friends, and then they tell two friends, and then they tell two friends, we can all be happy and prosper together! Just don’t think about the fact that what you thought was a small town bakery has really just been an elaborate pyramid scheme all these years...”
We all laughed, and after a few more pleasantries Susan was on her way back to the office, leaving us in one of the increasingly rare moments we had alone together at the bakery these days.
Once she was out of sight, I immediately turned to Nole and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Have I told you lately you’re the perfect man?” I asked him.
“The perfect woman made me that way,” he said without a moment’ hesitation. I swooned.
“You know, I’m really starting to think there might be something to this whole Christmas magic thing...”
“I thought you might come around,” he said, and leaned in to kiss me, the scent of spices still lingering on him, and making him more delicious than ever.
_____
“You thinking Starlite again for dinner tonight?” I asked him, as we walked arm-in-arm down the sidewalk after closing. It was completely dark out by now, but the skies were clear, and a brilliant curtain of stars hung in the sky overhead. “Or we could just grab something quick at Patterson’s, if you’d rather do that,” I added.
“You said Jule is staying over at her friend’s again tonight?” Nole asked.
“She is,” I nodded.
“Well, then. What would you say to a drive over to Westport? I was thinking since we’re doing so well, maybe we could treat ourselves to something a little bit fancier tonight. Maybe oh, I don’t know... A table for two at Le Chateau?”
I turned to him, surprised by the suggestion. “I would love to go to Le Chateau,” I said. “But there’s a huge waiting list, and you need a reservation to-” I stopped myself mid-sentence, realizing that he’d almost certainly made the reservation by now without telling me, and laughed. He smiled knowingly at me, and wiggled his eyebrows up and down.
“You know, it’s a little bit annoying sometimes just how perfect you are,” I teased him.
“I can stop if you want me to,” he said without missing a beat.
“Please don’t,” and rewarded his thoughtfulness with a long, deep kiss.
As amazing as Le Chateau sounded, I found myself already getting eager to get this man back home for dessert...
“Awwww, isn’t that nice?” said an unexpected, and all too familiar voice, shattering the intimacy of the moment. An icy chill ran over me. I separated from Nole, and stared over at the figure silhouetted against the dark sky a few feet away, just out of view from the street lamp. “A couple of lovebirds, just like two turtle doves...”
“What do you want, Scott?” I asked, trying not to sound as angry or as irrationally afraid as I was at that moment.
My ex-husband laughed, then took a few slow step forwards until he was harshly illuminated by the lamp overhead. It had been a while since I’d managed to see him so clearly, and he looked even more worse for wear than I remembered him. His scraggly dirty blonde hair was askew, and his face seemed gaunter than I remembered it. His drug abuse, I suspected, had taken its toll on him; I’d tried to use my concern over this as a reason to prevent him from getting unsupervised visitation rights with Jule, but the judge was having none of it. In the end it hadn’t mattered all that much, because once he got back into using again, his interest in seeing our daughter flatlined to basically zero.
How I’d ever convinced myself I was in love with this man, this boy, I had no idea...
“Relax sugar plum,” he said, running his fingers back through his mussed hair like it might somehow impress me. “I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I’d say hello. Maybe sneak a peek at that new boy toy of yours I’ve been hearing so much about.”
“I have nothing to say to you!” I shouted, my voice trembling. Nole gave my arm a light squeeze, and I was infinitely grateful for his reassurance in that moment.
“Well that’s funny,” said Scott, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Because folks around have been saying an awful lot about you... About how you’ve got this perfect new man now. How he gives it to you every night, makes you scream for it. About you let this stranger, this drifter into our house, let him be near our daughter, let him sleep under the same roof...”
He began to step forward now, strolling almost casually down the sidewalk toward us. I started backing up, and bumped into Nole. He was having none of it.
“You’re close enough right where you are,” he said firmly.
Scott snarled with laughter. “And you’re a little too close,” he spat. “I’d really appreciate it if you could get your damn hands off my woman...�
��
“I’m not your woman!” I snapped, my anger and fear still neck and neck, but the anger now taking on a healthy lead.
“How the hell anyone could want a slut like you as their woman is beyond me,” he growled, and just kept coming closer and closer. “I feel disgusting every time I remember I ever laid a hand on you, much less that you’re the mother of my kid!”
I was about to shout back at him, my rage boiling over. But thankfully Nole chose that moment to pull me back, sheltering me behind him, and took a broad step forward in Scott’s direction.
“Enough of this!” he thundered. “This doesn’t have to go any further. You’re a grown man, and you’re acting like a child! Addison doesn’t belong to you, or to anyone! You were just too foolish to see what a lucky man you were to be with her, and now she’s with someone who does. That’s nobody’s fault but your own, and I’m telling you right now, you better think twice if you think I’m letting you get anywhere near her...”
“Awww, isn’t that sweet,” Scott mocked viciously. “The doughboy’s sticking up for his little tart! Well I got news for you, doughboy... Ain’t no pretty boy gonna come here to my town, start screwing my wife, and tell me what I can or can’t do!”
There was a flash of movement so swift I could barely make it out in the dark. I screamed all the same, as Scott apparently swung a fist at Nole’s face and missed by a wide margin. Nole ushered me down off the sidewalk and I hurried around to the other side of a parked car, keeping a safe distance.
Scott let out a roar of anger and swung again. Nole jerked back, and Scott’s blow just barely grazed him against the arm.
“I warned you, pal!” Nole thundered, and popped Scott straight in the nose with his fist, my ex-husband’s old mitten stained red with his blood. He staggered backward along the sidewalk, and it seemed for a moment like that might’ve been all it took to K.O. him.
Abdominal Snowman: A Feel Good Holiday Romance Page 7