“Actually,” he said, clearing his throat slightly, “I’m here because I got your name in the Secret Santa drawing. I wanted to bring you your gift.”
Imogen looked up from her sculpture, blinking as if she were coming back to reality. “Oh! The Secret Santa thing. I’d almost forgotten with everything going on.” She straightened, wiping her hands off as Lincoln held out the silver-wrapped package.
“Actually,” she said, a slightly surprised expression crossing her face as she looked at the present, “this is quite the coincidence. I drew your name too.”
Lincoln’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? What are the odds of that?”
“Apparently higher than we might have thought,” Imogen said with a small laugh. “Let me get your gift.”
She handed the present back to him as she took off her chocolate-covered apron and wiped her hands again, before leading him out of the cold back room and back to the front of the shop. She disappeared into the break room for a moment before re-emerging with a package wrapped in cheerful redpaper and topped with a green bow. Lincoln felt a flutter of curiosity about what she might have chosen for him.
“Should we open them together?” Imogen suggested with a smile. “Since we picked each other’s names, it feels like we should make an event out of this.”
“After you,” Lincoln said, too nervous to wait. He felt his pulse skip slightly. He couldn’t believe she’d picked his name as well.
Imogen unwrapped the package carefully, setting the wrapping paper aside as she started to open the box. When she lifted the lid to look inside, he heard her breath catch audibly.
He could see it from where he was standing. The brass and enamel music box sat nestled in the paper, with the tiny hand painted carousel horses visible as Imogen opened it. It was a beautiful antique, and he waited anxiously to see what she would say as she stared at it.
“Lincoln,” she whispered, lifting the music box carefully from its packaging. “How did you… I can’t believe you remembered.”
“I remembered us talking about the circus, senior year,” he said, unable to take his eyes off of the expression on her face. Her eyes looked misty as she took in the details of the music box. “You told me about the carousel, and that you wanted one of these.”
Imogen wound the small key on the bottom of the music box, and immediately a tinkling melody filled the quiet shop while the tiny horses began to spin. Her eyes filled with tears as she watched them move, and Lincoln felt his chest tighten.
“I didn’t know if you had one already,” he said. “I figured you might have gotten one for yourself.” He didn’t mention the other thought, he didn’t want to ruin the moment. “But regardless, I wanted to get you one anyway.”
“It’s perfect,” she said softly. “Absolutely perfect. I honestly never got around to looking for one. I can’t believe you remembered.”
“I remember a lot of our conversations,” Lincoln admitted, then immediately wondered if that revelation was too much honesty for a casual gift exchange.
Imogen sniffed and smiled, wiping her eyes as she set the music box down. “Your turn,” she said, gesturing toward his still-wrapped package.
Lincoln went to open it, trying not to tear the wrapping too hastily, although he couldn’t wait to find out what it was. It was a shoe box, he realized as he pulled the wrapping away, and he saw in a matter of moments that it was exactly what he’d joked about wanting for three consecutive Christmases during high school: a pair of genuine Ugg boots in classic chestnut brown.
The sight was so unexpected that he actually laughed out loud.
Imogen had a worried look on her face at the sound. “Do you not like it?” she asked, chewing her lip, and he laughed again, struggling to get himself under control. He couldn’t believe it.
“Ugg boots,” he said, lifting one of them to examine the soft sheepskin lining. “Imogen, you actually remembered the Ugg boots.”
Her expression turned relieved as she seemed to realize that he liked her choice. “You mentioned them approximately a hundred times during high school” she said with a grin. “I figured after all these years, you’d probably still appreciate comfortable footwear. And,” she added, “much like you, I thought you might have already gotten a pair. But I thought I’d take the chance.”
Lincoln slipped off one of his work shoes and tried on the boot. It fit perfectly—she’d somehow remembered or correctlyguessed his size—and the immediate comfort was exactly what he’d always imagined it would be.
“These are incredible,” he said, genuinely touched that she’d remembered. “I can’t believe you remembered something so ridiculous.”
“I mean, I teased you a lot, but it wasn’t really ridiculous,” Imogen admitted. “It really is a practical thing to want. Comfortable shoes matter when you’re on your feet all day.”
“This is perfect,” Lincoln said. “Really, perfect.”
“So is yours.” Imogen bit her lip, and they looked at each other for a long moment. The air felt suddenly charged with the awareness that they’d both remembered something special about the other and both taken the time to get a gift that reflected it, and Lincoln felt something shift in the space between them. The easy friendship they’d rebuilt over the past few months suddenly felt full of possibility, weighted in a way it hadn’t before.
For a moment, Lincoln found himself imagining what it might be like to lean across the counter, to close the distance between them, to find out if the spark he thought he felt was real or just wishful thinking on his part.
He wondered if kissing her would feel the same as it had back then, or different, or something in between.
But then he snapped back to reality. Thiswasn’tback then. She had a child, and a life, and a very important project that he didn’t need to be responsible for distracting her from. If there was going to be a time to risk their friendship over trying to rekindle a decades-old romance, it definitely wasn’t now, he told himself.
