Christmas Wishes

“Really? You’re not just saying that?” Hannah wrung her hands as she watched Molly finish chewing. “Tell me the truth. Is it good? Or is it BakeTown good?”

“This is You-Should-Be-Rachel-Ray’s-New-Best-Friend good,” Molly told her, licking her fingers for any missed crumbs. “Do you have anything else you need me to sample?”

“Actually, if you’re still hungry, I was working on a new cherry pie recipe—”

“Yes. Pie. Yes. Good.” Molly nodded along with Hannah’s words. “So you know, you are definitely the reason I gain five pounds every Christmas. This is my dinner and I don't even care what the calorie count is.”

“Whatever! Chasing the kids around when you’re back to school in January will get you right back to normal,” Hannah said as she pulled a pie out of the oven behind her. “How’s the kids’ choir looking for the Christmas service, Ms. Choir Director?”

A year ago, Molly was chosen as school’s elementary choir director, even though she couldn’t carry a tune, not even if she had a bucket ready in her hands. She liked to think that her horrible attempts at singing encouraged the children to sing a bit louder, even if they were just trying to drown her out.

“It’s... looking.” Molly frowned, as she thought back on the childrens' attempt to sing Jingle Bells, which had somehow turned into an utter fiasco. “We’ll just need a few more practices. Maybe a few more weeks. Honestly, maybe we should just postpone the choir’s performance until next Christmas.”

Hannah opened her mouth to respond, but the chime sounded from her shop’s front door. She turned her attention towards the source of the sound and smiled. “Hi there! Welcome to Sweetness & Light!”

A tall man stood in the middle of Hannah’s bakery wearing a chic, dark suit and a frustrated expression. “Please tell me you have espresso here. Please. Please.”

“Sure thing. Would you like it as a latte? Our eggnog latte is amazing.”

“An eggnog latte? Maybe if I wanted an early grave,” the man muttered to himself. “Just an Americano, please.”

“Do you want any cream, sugar, or flavoring? We have a great Christmas cookie flavored syrup this month,” Hannah said as she headed for the shop’s espresso machine, her hands quickly working the press.

The man looked appalled. “Just the Americano. Plain. Nothing else.” He took the empty seat two down from Molly at the counter. “I’m not really a cream or sugar kind of guy. And especially not holiday flavors.”

Molly’s face scrunched up in confusion. If he wasn’t a holiday flavors kind of guy, what was he even doing in this kind of town? This town was known for holiday everything. That was the major draw for most visitors, especially at this time of year.

“Are you visiting someone for the holidays?” Molly asked as she sipped at her hot chocolate. “Or just passing through?”

“Both.” The man smiled politely back at Molly, and she thought that he was rather handsome, in a businessman-in-a-three-piece-suit kind of way. His hazel eyes looked so serious, which matched the severity of his neatly trimmed jet-black hair. She could easily imagine him sitting at the head of important board meetings, timing everyone’s speech using the expensive gold wristwatch he kept checking.

“Here’s your Americano,” Hannah said, her words interrupting Molly’s thoughts. “I’ve got a few things to work on in the back before I close up for the night, Molly. You two should enjoy yourselves. Have a nice conversation. I'll box the pie up for later.”

She gave her friend an inconspicuous wink. Before Molly could protest this blatant attempt at getting her a date, Hannah had disappeared into a backroom. Molly'd just have to murder Hannah later.

“So, where are you from?” Molly asked. The guy was cute. She could at least talk to him.

“New York City.” The man’s answ

er was curt and straight to the point.

“Oh! New York. I used to live there when I was a kid.” Molly’s eyes lit up and she grinned at the man. “I didn’t know anybody else in town had family in New York—Oh, wait. Are you Mr. Williams’ nephew?”

“No.” The man took a sip of his coffee, but kept his gaze focused on Molly. His eyes really were beautiful. “I’m Nicholas Kerstman. Howard and Suzanne’s son.”

“Oh,” Molly said. Her heart sank a little bit. The man with the beautiful eyes was the man who hated Christmas. “You’re Nicholas Kerstman?”

“Is there a problem with that, Ms...” Nicholas leaned towards Molly, as he tried to read her name tag. “Head Elf?” Nicholas tilted his head to the side, while a finger tapped at his coffee cup. “Ahh. So, it’s you my parents love so much. Strange. I thought you’d be—”

“A guy?”

“No. A child.” Nicholas blinked a few times before bringing his drink back to his lips. “Sorry. It just seemed like such a kiddie job title. Didn’t think any adults would’ve applied.”

Molly let out a startled laugh, taken aback by Nicholas’ remarks about her chosen occupation. “I grew into the title, actually. I’ve been working with your parents for twelve years now. I think my kiddie job title is perfectly earned. I rather like it to be honest.”

Molly shifted out of her her seat to leave, no longer wanting to sit and chat. Unfortunately, it also displayed her full work outfit. She held her chin up, although she wished she had something a little more adult on than her satin red and green elf skirt and tights. She didn't like the look of disdain on his mouth when he looked at her clothing.

“You're certainly dressed the part,” he said, sipping at his coffee.