* * *
Molly and Nicholas both stood on the Brownstone’s roof as Molly watched Nicholas thread the Christmas lights through the eaves on the side of the home.
He had a very serious look on his face, with every bit of his concentration seemingly focused on the task at hand. He reached for another rope clip before dangling a few more inches of bright lights off the rooftop.
“I’m doing it in the right pattern, right?” Nicholas asked, glancing up at her. “I probably should’ve asked before we got started, but you know, hindsight is 20/20.”
“The pattern is perfect, “Molly told him with a smile. “Where’d you learn how to do this stuff, anyway? Did Debbie’s Gift Shop have a lights department, too?”
“Really? You’re asking the son of Mr. and Mrs. Claus where he learned to hang Christmas lights?” Nicholas chuckled, carefully placing the strand of lights.
“Well, yes,” Molly admitted. “For being Mr. and Mrs. Claus, your parents are actually terrible at hanging lights. I think it's the only Christmas thing they aren't good at.”
Nicholas laughed.“I guess that hasn't changed then. My mom and dad have always been obsessed with Christmas, even before they were in the Christmas business. But back when they were still corporate, academic types, my Aunt Georgia, was the one who really carried the Christmas torch in our household.”
There was something about the way he said her name that caught Molly's attention. “So she taught you how to do lights?”
“She was the one who taught me how to do the nuts and bolts of Christmas. Hanging lights. Picking out a tree. Putting together a snow globe from scratch,” he explained, still focused on the lights. “If there were ever a Queen of Christmas, aunt Georgia was certainly it.”
A small smile flickered across his face and Molly nearly fell off the roof.
Nicholas Kerstman was smiling about Christmas? Maybe Christmas miracles were possible after all.
“Did she do anything special for Christmas?” Molly kept her voice low as she asked her question, not wanting to push her luck when it came to getting Nicholas to open up to her. This was the kind of information she needed if she wanted to make Christmas special for him again.
A few moments passed in utter silence, and Molly wondered if she’d somehow blown this entire conversation.
Maybe she’d been wrong about the smile.
“Buche de Noel.”
“What?” Molly was taken aback by Nicholas actually answering.
“Buche de Noel. That’s my favorite memory with my aunt.” Nicholas smiled again, his hands moving towards the end of the light string. “She used to make those cakes every year when I was a kid.”
“I've never heard of them,” Molly replied, pointing to a light that was out of place.
“They’re a French Christmas cake. They're sometimes called yule logs,” he explained. “They're supposed to be decorated to look like actual logs, but they're this amazing chocolate cake with chocolate whipped cream wrapped up inside of it. She used to make them especially for me.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Molly said softly. “She sounds wonderful.”
Molly was going to have to find this aunt of his and have her help in saving the store. Someone who made a special Christmas cake would probably be very helpful making Christmas important to Nicholas again.
Nicholas nodded, pushing the string of lights closer to the roof’s edge. “She always had such a big heart. She died when I was fifteen. I haven't found anyone who can make the cake like she did.”
Molly felt her shoulders drop. She wondered if maybe his Christmas-loving aunt's death had something to do with his dislike of Christmas, but didn't want to pry. Instead, she gave the traditional, yet inadequate, “I'm sorry.”
Nicholas waved his hand, almost as if he was waving away the thought itself. “But that’s alright. It’s not like cake’s the greatest thing in the world for your health.”
The way he said it made Molly's heart ache.
“Yeah, but it made you happy and that should count for something.” Molly moved a bit closer to Nicholas’ side, grabbing onto the other end o
f the light string. “Being happy doesn’t always have to be some logical thing. You know that, don’t you? Being happy just is.”
“Right, right, right...” Nicholas waved his hand again, but moving away from Molly. He cleared his throat. “I think we’re done here, Ms. Molly. Can you go down to turn on the lights?”
Molly nodded, feeling like there was something more she should do. But, she gave him space and headed down the ladder and back toward the side of the house.