The Christmas Contract (Part 2)
Romance - Part 2 - Noelle and Luke must find a way to get along for the sake of the upcoming wedding, but it won't be easy...
Previously: Noelle goes home to visit her family for her brother’s wedding, despite the memories that haunt her in Festive Falls. Luke saves her from an embarrassing fall, and she finds out he’s also visiting. Old childhood rivalries and bitterness arise, and a Christmas tree finds itself toppled over. Noelle and Luke must sign a contract agreeing to get along until after the wedding.
After we signed the contract, I retreated to my room where I hid for hours, replying to emails and delegating tasks to my assistant. I couldn’t face my family so soon after being reprimanded by my father like a child, and it seemed that the best way to avoid fighting with Luke was to not be around him at all.
In the evening, I went downstairs and slipped into the kitchen for a snack. I was halfway through a bag of chips when I heard Luke’s voice just outside the door.
Panic at the possibility of being caught stuffing my face in secrecy was instantaneous. I gasped and inhaled fragments of chips, which then clung to the sides of my windpipe. I did my best to stifle my cough, but it was going to break through and it was going to be the loud, hacking type. Without thinking, I took my chips and ran out the door that led to the backyard, very nearly being spotted by Luke and Chris as they entered the kitchen.
The click of the door at my back reminded me that this particular door had a special quirk that required it to be propped open unless you wanted to be locked outside. I didn’t have a coat or shoes on and the December chill bit harshly into every part of my body.
I gasped again, and again I inhaled the chips, but this time I could not hold back the coughing fit that ensued. The cold air only served to exacerbate the ferocity of my cough, contracting my already struggling airways. Deep, scraping barks emitted from my mouth as I doubled over, but I kept hold of my chips.
Heavy footsteps thudded toward me and the door knob began to turn. Not like this. On the run again, I sprinted around the side of the house in my socks toward the front door. I hoped someone at the other end of the house could let me in and I could run back upstairs before being seen by Luke or Chris. I squeezed through the bushes on the side of the front yard and climbed the porch steps two at a time, all while my chest burned from the inside out.
Just as I was about to knock on the door, it opened. I had no time to run or hide before I was face-to-face with my nemesis. He took a long look at the chips in my hand and the socks on my feet before squinting his eyes at me.
“I really want to shut this door in your face,” he mused.
I sneered and a little cough slipped out. “Go ahead. I’d actually love it if you got kicked out of my house,” I croaked.
He considered for a moment. “Nah. I promised your dad a game of Scrabble.” He yelled over his shoulder, “Your sister’s out here!” Then he stepped around me and continued down the porch steps to the car.
Chris appeared in the doorway, a confused look on his face. “Uhh…we’re going to get pizza. Wanna come?”
“No, thanks,” I chirped as I pushed past him into the warm house.
He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder and gestured to his mouth. “You’ve got, like, a ton of food in your teeth.”
My hand shot up to cover my mouth. He grimaced and shut the door behind himself as he left. I checked my teeth in the hall mirror. They were indeed like off-white tiles with orange grout between them.
I was busy scrubbing at my teeth with the sleeve of my wool sweater when my mom walked by and pointed a finger at me. “Be ready for church tomorrow. Luke is coming with us.”
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My family and I—and Luke—filed into the small church the next morning. When my dad indicated that I should sit next to Luke in the same pew we’d occupied every Sunday for my entire childhood, I began to protest, but as the organ fired up, and the church filled with people, there wasn’t any time for arguing.
I shuffled down the length of the pew. The wood creaked under our collective weight as we all settled into our seats. In my mind, I began reciting all the items I’d have on my grocery list when I returned home in order to steer my thoughts away from how irritated I was to be sitting next to Luke.
The pastor entered the church and the sermon started shortly after. Everyone reached for the bibles tucked into the backs of the pews in front them and found the appropriate passage for the day.
I was listing the necessary leafy greens for my salads and smoothies when an annoying, jangling sound broke the tranquility of the church. High-pitched beeps and tinkles bounced off the arches and stained glass windows. The pastor paused and every head turned toward my family.
It took me a moment to realize the noise was coming from the cellphone of the person next to me—Luke. My temper flared. He slid down in the pew to dig his phone out of his pocket.
“You didn’t put it on silent?!” I chastised in a loud whisper.
He spared me a glare, then shut off the trilling ring tone. He was breathing heavily, red creeping up his neck, and a vein stuck out on his forehead. I felt the corners of my mouth begin to lift up in satisfaction. Soon, everyone would see Luke for the menace I knew he truly was.
Before peace could settle down into the church again, another burst of jingling, digital rattles ripped through the atmosphere. I turned to Luke, ready to bite his head off until I recognized the sound as my own ringtone. The dark arms of dread encircled me then.
I dumped my bag out onto the floor between my feet, searching for my phone. Tampons rolled under the pew in front of us, mints spilled, receipts fluttered, and all the while, my phone sang its merry tune, announcing my lack of common decency to everyone.
After an eternity longer than the one promised in the afterlife, I located my phone and shut the music off. Silence reigned once again. I sat frozen in the deafening absence of sound with my eyes closed.
A soft snicker came from my left. My eyes shot open to see Luke shaking with barely suppressed laughter. Anger surged in me, and then it died. A snort escaped me as I joined in the mortified giggles. The sermon continued.
My dad leaned over and muttered sternly, “Outside, both of you.” We nodded and took our hysterical selves out through the side door of the church while avoiding eye contact with anyone we passed.
Outside in the crisp winter air we unleashed a chorus of braying howls, clouds of white punctuating each cackle. When we finally calmed down, I saw something in Luke’s expression that I had never seen before. He looked at me like I was someone new, and somehow familiar at all once.
“What?” I demanded.
The strange look on his face fell away. “I was just thinking that I drove here in my truck and church just started.”
“Okay?” The ice from the sidewalk wound small frozen threads into my boots and up my legs.
“Well, the tree farm is open today, even without Chris there. Let’s go get a tree to replace the one you”—my eyebrows shot up and he raised a hand apologetically—”we destroyed.”
I wasn’t sure if I should trust him, but I had confidence in my ability to manipulate the situation in my favor if need be. Plus, it was very cold outside.
I let my face fall into a very disinterested look, even though I was a tiny bit impressed by the idea. “Sure. Let’s go—but I pick the tree.”
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We managed to get the tree chosen and loaded into Luke’s truck without any conflict. In fact, Luke didn’t say more than two words to me. While we tied down the tree, I watched him. His hands worked with swift certainty, but his face betrayed an inner turmoil.
“What’s up with you?” I asked across the bed of the truck.
He stopped what he was doing and stared at me, then shrugged and went back to work at the straps holding the tree down.
“Nothin’. Just doing what I can to get through this, even if that means keeping my mouth shut to avoid fighting.”
“Oh, come on,” I teased. “It’s not that bad. I can be civil.”
“So civil, it requires a contract for you to treat me like a family friend you’ve known your whole life?” he shot back.
My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“You are cold, Noelle.” He finished tying down the tree and glanced at me before getting into the truck and starting it.
I waited for the anger to come, but, instead, tears that I had no intention of letting him see blurred my vision. I wiped my eyes and joined him in the truck. We were silent all the way home.
We brought the new tree into the house and everyone cheered. I plastered a huge, fake smile on my face until I had the chance to excuse myself to my room. The rest of the day was spent under the covers in my bed, laptop open, occasionally working, occasionally stalking my ex’s social media profiles. I dozed off once or twice, and I skipped dinner, settling for a midnight snack once everyone had gone to bed.
Nine days to go.
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Early morning and breakfast went by quickly with the aid of my incredible skills at zoning out. I was on the phone confirming entree details for the wedding reception when my mother poked her head into my room. With the caterer listing items in my ear, I tried my best to focus on what my mom said.
“Cookies today. Holiday party. I’ll be at the dog rescue with Holly.”
I replied with a thumbs up. Cookies I can handle.
Minutes later, in the kitchen, I relished in the silence of the house. My mother’s well-worn apron slipped over my head, and I poured a cup of rich, dark coffee before cracking open the sacred tome of Carol family recipes. Our Christmas cookies happened to be my specialty and everyone knew that, so it was no surprise that they left this job to me. I was in the middle of feeling quite smug when Luke walked into the kitchen.
“Oh, for f—what are you doing here?” I nearly hurled my cup of coffee at the wall.
“Calm down, Noelle.” He looked genuinely offended. “Your mom said I had to make cookies today. She said you’d show me what to do.”
At the suggestion that I calm down, my blood boiled, turning me into a bubbling vat full of intent to kill. Remember the contract!, my brain screamed. I took a deep breath and slid the recipe book over to him, half expecting it to catch fire where I touched it.
“Fine” —my words were clipped—”You follow this. I have the recipe memorized. Stay over there and don’t even think of crossing over into my counter space.” I grabbed the necessary measuring cups from the drawer to my right. “In ‘cookie mode’, I operate like a well-oiled, efficient machine. Get too close and you may get hurt.”
He frowned and began reading the recipe, then spoke without looking up at me. “No worries. I’d never willingly get anywhere near you and all” —he waved his hand in a circular motion in my direction—”that.”
I walked into the pantry and hissed a few choice words regarding his character into the darkness as I searched for the flour and sugar.
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We were content to work quietly for a long time, and soon we both got into our own rhythms of baking. I hardly noticed him there as my muscle memory kicked in. Eventually, we developed a sort of well-timed dance around each other. When I needed the rolling pin, he’d anticipate it and hold it across the counter for me. If he needed the sugar, I’d slide it over to him right as he finished with the butter.
The afternoon passed that way until we had the entire monstrous amount of cookies made. When we were done, Luke pulled a box of leftover pizza from the fridge and we tapped our cold slices together before digging in.
“Nice work, Carol,” he noted plainly.
“Thanks, Winter.” Four cheeses and pepperoni never tasted so good.
“Wanna take a walk and—”
“Quiet. It’s pizza time. No talking during pizza time,” I breathed between chewing.
I could feel the sizzle of his childish pouting but I ignored it and soon he left the kitchen without another word.
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Over the next five days, Luke and I were able to work side by side, picking up the tuxedos, dresses, and various decor items, while also doing last-minute checks on the venue. This gave Holly and Chris ample time to tie up all the loose ends at the dog rescue and tree farm before the big day.
We found a good balance of give and take with our critiques and advice when it came to tackling our list of tasks. We were even able to get along most nights during and after dinner. Many laughs were had over board games and wine in the house. It started to feel like a real family Christmas, and I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed it. Still, every time childhood memories came up, we both bristled and changed the subject.
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Three days before the wedding, I sat on my bed, working on my maid of honor speech. A soft knock on the doorframe broke my focus.
“Hey,” Luke said warmly.
To my surprise, I smiled back with equal warmth. “Come on in.”
As he crossed to my bed, his head swiveled to take in all the teenage girl decor that still adorned my walls.
“What are you up to?” He gestured at the pen and paper in my lap.
“Speech-writing,” I sighed.
“Ah. I did mine last night.”
“Oh yeah? Anything good?”
“No, all terrible,” he laughed as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“Tell me more. I’m dying here.”
“Well,” he hesitated. Our eyes met briefly before his gaze was drawn to the floral pattern on my bedspread. He took a deep breath. I noticed he fought to keep his expression neutral.
“I wrote something about how I envy their love. How I hoped I would find someone to give my heart to the same way he has, and that I can tell he’ll spend the rest of his life caring for her. How his face lights up at the sound of her voice or the mention of her name.” He paused. “I said it was obvious she’s all he’s ever wanted—you can see it in the way he looks at her.”
The stare he leveled on me then was the sincerest I’d ever experienced from him, or anyone else, for that matter. The intensity of his blue eyes transported me back to that day on Main Street, when he caught me in his arms.
My brother walked by the doorway then and said in his best imitation of our father, “Noelle, no boys in your room.”
I thanked him silently for breaking the tension and giving us a reason to laugh. Luke reached his hand across the bed toward mine. A feeling of fear mixed with excitement tingled upward from my hand in anticipation of his touch.
What is going on?
The doorbell rang, clanging throughout the house. I snatched my hand away and jumped off the bed.
“Who could that be?” I nearly shrieked as I ran from the room.
I skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs. The scene at the front door hit me like a sledgehammer to the heart, causing me to white-knuckle the railing with both hands. My whole family stood in the entryway, surrounding a tall, lanky figure with blond hair holding a bouquet of roses. He saw me before I could scamper back to my room.
“Noelle!” he called up to me.
“Adam,” came Luke’s grim observation beside me.
Oh, no.
“Yo, Luke!” Adam raised the bouquet in greeting.
Luke pushed past me, down the stairs. He squeezed through my family’s blockade while pulling his car keys from his pocket. At the door, he clapped Adam on the shoulder, then he was gone. Adam, ignorant of everything as usual, grinned and held the bouquet out to me. My stomach turned. He opened his mouth to speak but the approach of someone else up the porch steps interrupted him.
“Excuse me,” came a curt, baritone voice—all business. A wide man with broad shoulders nearly shoved Adam out of the way and eclipsed the sunlight in the doorway.
“Afternoon folks, I’m Hall Decker1, owner of Decker LandDev. I’m here to speak to the current owners of Carol Tree Farm and Snow Family Dog Rescue.”
Everyone froze. He continued, “I’m here to buy your businesses from you.”
🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁
cover image is made from free, unlicensed images found on Google, and photography by Cameron Stewart and Senivpetro
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HALL DECKER MENTIONED RAHHHHHHH
This chapter had me laughing. That final scene felt like a punch to the gut in the best possible way.