Believe (5 page)

After we have cleaned up the serving table, I offer to help tidy up the kitchen. Something tells me I need to get out of the same room as Nick if I want to have any hope of controlling this situation. Unfortunately the kitchen doesn't take nearly long enough for my taste. Nick is still sitting with Merry and her mom when I reemerge. With no other choice I head over to take a seat with them. I'm not sorry I go over because Merry squirms out of her seat to sit beside me.

Nick meets my eyes across the table. His smile causes the corners of his eyes to crinkle in this way that I have to admit I find utterly adorable. I look away first. My ears must be malfunctioning because I think I hear his signature chuckle as I do.

My heart dances in a fluttery staccato until Nick excuses himself. Merry's mom sighs and says they need to go as well.

"How long are you going to be here?" Merry asks as her mom hurries to get their coats.

I look down into her sweet little eyes peering up at me so hopefully. "Not very long, I'm afraid. I'm just visiting my grandma for a bit."

Merry sighs, clearly disappointed with my answer. "Oh. I hoped you could babysit me over break while my mom works."

Now it's my turn to be disappointed. I can't for the life of me figure out why either. I don't like babysitting, never have. When my sisters were little, they got foisted on me more often than not. Changing diapers is not my forte. Although Merry's not in diapers of course.

"Oh," I say. Merry's mom returns with the coats, and with Merry's eyes shiny with unshed tears, I feel sick to my stomach. I need to do something. "Hey, maybe we can hang out again before I leave. If that's okay with your mom."

"Could we?" Merry actually gasps and looks at her mom with widened, appealing eyes.

Merry's mom looks at me with a mixture of gratitude and relief that makes me uncomfortable. I don't know why. "That would be fantastic," she says. "Your grandmother spoke so highly of you. I was delighted that you and Merry met."

"You know my grandma?" This fact catches me off guard for some reason. The world seems to tilt a little and my mind reels. Is Merry part of all this? Not that she knows anything about me and Nick or my grandma or the elf elders. But are they using her as some sort of pawn in their plans? I peer at Merry's mom curiously, suspiciously.

"She volunteers at the church I work at part-time," Merry's mom says.

Innocent and simple. And probably true from the little I know of Gran. I need to relax. Not everyone is out to get me.

"Oh, that's nice," I say lamely. "Why don't the two of you set something up for me and Merry. Gran seems to be running my schedule while I'm here."

Merry throws her arms around me, and I return her hug with equal warmth. She's the only person here I trust. Too bad she's six years old.

Nick returns just as Merry and her mom leave. He smiles after them. I can tell they have a special place in his heart, and I get a strange twinge in my own.

"Ready to go?" He asks.

I nod, not trusting myself to say anything right now. Following him to the truck, I try not to focus on the fact that his Santa wig and hat have left his dark blond hair mussed in a slightly spiky way that I really like. The look just invites fingers to do a quick tousling. Needless to say I am more than a little disappointed when he pulls a snug knit cap on, jamming it down all the way over his ears. He turns and gives me a dazzling smile. I nearly fall into a snow bank.

"Are you any good at ice skating?"

With a slight arch of his eyebrow, I can tell he's teasing me. I feel so…girly right now. My stomach flip-flops and I'm at a loss as to what is happening inside of me right now. I'm falling for him. Fast and hard. This is all wrong, fake. Whatever we are to become our relationship will be based on a lie.

I toss my hair so my silvery highlights catch the streetlight. Nick looks distracted for a moment, and I use the time to recompose myself. "Just wait until you see me on skates. I'm like poetry on ice."

Nick laughs, and now it's my turn to be distracted.

We climb in to the cab of his truck. Awkward silence descends as we wait for the truck to heat up. Gran packed my skates in a large duffel bag that Nick tossed into the back of the pickup when he arrived. I wonder now what else is in there.

I'm missing my opportunity to talk to him about this whole situation. Where do I start? Last time I tried to bring it up, I proposed—no demanded marriage. Just the memory makes my cheeks heat up.

Clearing my throat, I say, "So, um, how do your parents know Gran?"

Nick glances at me. He must have been lost in thought or something because he seems surprised to see me in his truck.

"We've known your grandma as long as I can remember," he says. He shifts his body toward me and looks at me closely. "That's why it was so funny when she announced that her granddaughter was coming to visit and wouldn't it be nice if I would show her around."

My cheeks flame. He knows there's something off about the whole situation. He just has no idea how off it is. "I didn't know she was still alive," I say. "Honestly. She and my dad had some sort of falling out or something, and he…kept us from her. As punishment I guess. My mom was the one who decided I should visit."

My mom, forced by my dad and the elf elders, but I don't think Nick is ready to hear that yet.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that," Nick says, his voice suddenly soft and full of something I'm scared to name.

I harden myself against his sympathy. There is no way I can let myself fall for him. Rigidly facing forward, I clench my fists at my sides and laugh bitterly. "Yeah, my dad's a jerk. And that's putting it mildly."

We sit in silence, but this time it isn't as awkward, but it is uncomfortable because I think something has shifted between us. Finally Nick turns himself back to the steering wheel and pulls out of the parking space. We drive with the silence engulfing us. All I can hear is the guttural groaning of the truck's engine. I know I should be grateful for the fact that Nick let the issue drop, but instead I'm irritated.

Nick reaches over to turn on the radio. Christmas carols spill into the cab. I groan.

"Why do you hate Christmas so much?"

"What?" Did I hear Nick right? Did he just call me out on my biggest secret?

Slanting me a sideways glance, Nick says, "I want to know why you hate Christmas so much."

My heart thunders in my chest. Should I tell him the truth? Is this my chance to convince him? I wuss out. Instead I glance out my window at the passing houses before saying, "If you grew up the way I did, you'd hate Christmas too."

The silence from Nick's side of the truck is so full of that compassion from a few minutes ago that I get annoyed. I shift in my seat to face him.

We idle at a stoplight and Nick faces me more fully. He leans closer. I don't know whether he means to or not. I can't think straight.

"We don't have to talk about it," he says.

"Gah!" I smack my mittened hands into my face as I make the first frustrated noise I can. We stare at each other.

A horn from behind us startles us from this moment. Nick jams his foot on the gas pedal sending the truck jolting forward.

"Sorry," he mutters, for the first time not his happy-go-lucky self.

My breath hitches and I force my gaze back out the passenger side window. Things are spinning out of my control. I have no idea what happens if I fail this task, but the vague unknown of it all terrifies me. What is my father capable of? What of the elf elders?

We pull up to a large pond a few moments later. Skaters are already thick on the ice lit by huge floodlights. A lively fire burns in a fire pit at the edge of the pond ringed by a large stone bench. I scramble out of the truck before Nick can come around to open the door for me.

The bag Gran packed does indeed contain my skates as well as all the fixings for s'mores. Of course. She's still my grandmother even if she is part of this whole twisted setup. She wants me to have a good time despite it all.

Nick leads me to the stone bench by the fire pit without saying anything. His mouth, which I'm already used to seeing smiling, is set in a rigid line, his jaw shifting almost imperceptibly. What is going on here?

Frustrated, I shove my skates on. I need a break. Without a word to Nick, I clomp to the ice and set off. I'm sailing. I'm flying. My head clears and I'm free. I make a lap, idly observing the other skaters.

On my second lap, I notice a girl talking to Nick and my stomach squeezes with jealousy. What? Absolutely not. I'm not jealous of some girl flirting with Nick. The only reason I double back is because I need Nick, and nothing can get in the way of succeeding. Failure to convince Nick to be the new Santa is simply not an option.

The girl in the shiny pink parka has nearly climbed into Nick's lap. Anger rushes through me. I mean, he came here with me. Shouldn't he be out here with me? Not gallivanting around with some other girl.

My attention is so focused on Nick and the girl that I don't notice the divot in the ice until the front of my skate catches, pitching me forward. As I sprawl out on the glossy smooth ice, the breath is knocked out of me before I can catch myself.

I lie still for a moment just trying to assess the pain and catch my breath.

"Are you okay?"

Nick's voice seems oddly disembodied, floating somewhere in the vicinity of my left ear. I'm relieved he's close, and for the moment I don't force myself to conjure my near constant annoyance with him.

Shoving myself up, I kneel for a second so Nick can reassure himself I'm in one piece. I try not to get swallowed in the disappointment because I know the real reason for his concern. How could he tell my Gran that he let me get hurt when he's supposed to be taking care of me while I'm here?

Nick stands up, smooth as silk on his skates. He extends a hand to me. For a moment I debate not taking it, but I ignore that thought and grasp his hand. Even through my mittens I can feel the warmth of his skin as he starts to skate, leading me in slow, lazy circles. Probably just to make sure I'm okay.

Nick leads me through a cluster of hockey players, each of us dodging the rush of skates and sticks clacking on the ground. The edge of the blade of my skate catches in a divot in the ice, forcing me to cling to Nick's arm all the tighter. I think I see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Eventually we drift back toward the fire pit. Running high on the euphoria of holding Nick's hand and still diligently ignoring what any of those feelings mean, I say, "Gran packed s'mores supplies."

Nick grins. "Nice to see you getting into things. We'll have to bust them out as soon as we get over there."

We totter across the packed snow and drop onto the stone bench. I pull off one skate with a bit too much force sending my stocking foot plunging into a pile of slushy snow. The dampness seeps into my sock, freezing my toes. I let out a little gasp. Nick looks up at me with concern. Shrugging I gesture toward my sock, embarrassed.

"We can dry it by the fire," Nick offers, bending down to peel the sock off my foot for me. I shouldn't let him do it, but the delicious shiver that races along my nerve endings urges me to shut up.

I shove my bare foot into my boot, grateful for the faux fur lining the inside.

Nick introduces me to several people as he rummages around in my bag for the s'mores stuff. Suddenly shy, I muster a smile and try to think of something interesting to say. One guy asks me where I'm from, and my mind goes blank.

"Norway," I blurt. That's pretty far North. Most people won't question that. The guy who asked the question nods as if he knows everything about Norway that there is. Ugh. He knows nothing about the Norse people. Not that I do either. The whole extent of my Norse related experience came in the form of Johan. Why am I thinking about him again? I'm right here with the happiest, cutest guy I've ever met.

Wait, where is Nick? He was next to me a minute ago. I look around the stone bench that extends in a large semi circle around the fire pit. My heart stutters to a stop. Some girl is perched on Nick's knee. I think it's the same girl from earlier. She has her arms locked around his neck. He's watching her intensely. Obviously I can't hear what they're saying, but they look…intimate.

I should feel angry or frustrated, but I don't. Instead I just feel a deep disappointment. This girl is standing in my way from completing my mission, and rather than focusing on that fact, all I want to do is cry.

Tears prick my eyes, and I blink rapidly to keep them from falling. When I glance over at them again, my heart plummets into my stomach. The girl leans closer to Nick, or maybe he leans closer to her, and they kiss. My whole world slows to a crawl as I watch Nick's hand caress the curve of her cheek. The intensity of my desire to be in that position startles me, but the second I let the thought form, I know it's true.

Now that everything has shifted, I do what any girl would do. I stand up, march over to Nick and the girl, and say, “Gran called. You need to take me home.”

I'm gratified to see that Nick looks embarrassed. The girl shoots me a nasty glare before I turn on my heel and stalk back across the fire pit area. I toss my skates into the duffel bag and start toward Nick's truck in the parking lot across the street. The chill of the night wraps around me as I head away from the fire.

Leaning against the truck, I tip my head up toward the night sky. Thousands of stars wink back at me in the deep purple expanse. They are dim here, nothing like home. I miss that, I realize. For the first time since I left, I've found something I miss about the North Pole. Of course, just one missed thing doesn't make me want to hurry back. The list of things I don't miss still outweighs it by a mile.

I see Nick jogging across the street, and my heart skitters. I'm not sure how to act. As Nick nears he gives me one of his slightly crooked, dazzling smiles. My nerves are on edge. He doesn't seem mad that I made him leave his little friend behind, so that's a relief.