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“True,” Noelle replied. Why did his indifference sound forced, though? He was leaving something out of his comparison. Whatever that something was, its unspoken presence made her want to tell him he was wrong.
She settled for saying nothing. For his part, James seemed happy to see the subject dropped. “Traffic’s eased up,” he noted.
He was right. With the snow done and the bulk of the day over, there were fewer cars on the road. Most of the tourists were either on their way home or warming up before the evening festivities. “They’ll start blocking streets for the Santa Light Parade soon.” A few hardy souls were already setting up lawn chairs. “Santa will drive his sleigh down Main Street to light the town tree, and then Christmas season will be officially here.”
“And you all do this every year?”
“Like clockwork,” she told him. “I’m not the only one who takes traditions seriously. You’ve got to admit it definitely kicks up the Christmas spirit.”
“I’ll admit the town has a certain marketable charm to it, but I still prefer Boston and its other three hundred and sixty-four days.”
“Marketable charm? You spend a day surrounded by Christmas and that’s the best you can come up with?” Worse, he still had those far away shadows in his eyes. “You really don’t like Christmas, do you? I know...” She held up a hand. “We covered this last night.”
They were coming up on the Nutcracker Inn. The hotel had been decorated to look like a real gingerbread house. “So much for my theory that Fryberg’s enthusiasm could inspire anyone.”
“Sorry.” To her surprise, his apology sounded truly sincere. “You shouldn’t take it personally. When it comes to Christmas...”
He paused to run a hand over his face. “Let’s say my history with the holiday is complicated, and leave it at that.”
In other words, sad. After all, people didn’t hate the holidays because of happy memories.
“And here I thought I was the one with the juicy Christmas story,” she said. “In fact, we’re passing my birthplace now.”
She pointed to the old nativity scene which had been relocated to the Nutcracker’s front lawn. “Back when I was born, Mary and Joseph hung out in the park next to the Christmas tree. The Nutcracker took them in a few years ago.”
“I’ll refrain from pointing out the irony,” James said.
“Thank you.” Pointing to the baby in the center, she said, “That’s where they found me. Bundled up next to the baby Jesus. I guess my mother thought he’d keep me warm.”
They stopped in front of the display. “Anyway, a group of people walking by noticed there were two babies, alerted the authorities and a Fryberg legend was born.”
“Manger Baby,” James said.
“Exactly. And you say your Christmas history is complicated.”
Noelle could make light of it now, but when she was a kid? Forget it. Being the odd man out, even at home. The foster families were decent enough and all, but she was never truly a part of them. Just the kid the state paid them to take care of. Whose mother abandoned her in a plaster nativity display.
Thing was, she could justify her mother giving her up, but why couldn’t she have picked a fire station or somebody’s doorstep? Why did she have to go with the cliché of all clichés on Christmas Eve, thus saddling her child with a nickname that wouldn’t die?
“I hated that nickname,” she said. “Every Christmas, without fail, someone would dredge up that story, and that’s all I’d hear on the playground.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Reaching across the gap separating them, she touched his arm. “I’ve gotten over it. People don’t call me the name anymore, haven’t since I was in high school.” Or maybe they did, and she didn’t notice because she’d had the Frybergs.
James looked down at her hand on his arm. Feeling her fingers begin to tingle with nerves, Noelle moved to break away only for him to cover her hand with his. “It’s a wonder you don’t hate Christmas as much as I do,” he said. “Considering.”
“Never even crossed my mind.” She stared at the manger. “Christmas was never a bad holiday. I mean, yeah I got stuck with that nickname, but there was also all of this too.”
With her free hand, she gestured at the decorations around them. “How can you dislike a holiday that makes an entire town decorated for your birthday?
“Besides,” she added. “There was always Santa Claus. Every year, the school would take a field trip to Fryberg’s and we’d tell him what we wanted. And every year, those very toys would show up under the tree.
