"There's a difference?" I raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious.
"A huge one." He set his mug down and turned to face me. "When performing, you're always aware of invisible walls." He gestured grandly toward an imaginary audience, every movement calculated for effect. Then, he turned to me, and something shifted. The polish fell away, leaving only Alex—vulnerable and authentic. "But when you're really connecting, you forget anyone else exists."
Holly's bracelets jingled as she bustled past. "Sometimes the best connections happen when we stop trying so hard to protect ourselves. Look at how Noel's grown into his role as Santa since accepting his heritage. He didn't want anything to do with it at first when his father passed."
"Speaking of Noel," Alex's professional mask slipped back into place as he stepped back. "He's captured his father's spirit in the role. The children believe in him. Marcus especially—he's been telling everyone at the hospital that Santa is coming to see him."
"The North family has a gift for Christmas magic." Holly looked from me to Alex and back again. "Though sometimes even the strongest traditions need fresh energy to keep them alive."
"I suppose." Alex's shoulders tensed slightly. "Though I should probably head back to New York soon. My best friend Jared would kill me if I missed our traditional Christmas Eve skate at Rockefeller Center."
The shop's temperature suddenly dropped several degrees. Holly's hands froze on the jar she was organizing, though she pretended to be absorbed in straightening her shelves.
I focused on a display of pine cone ornaments, trying to keep my voice neutral. "New York does have impressive skating. Here, it's not the same, but our little rink has its own charm."
"I'm sure it does." Alex fiddled with the handle of his mug. "Everything here has... unexpected magic. Seeing how Noel connects with the children as Santa is like watching a fairytale come alive. I avoided most of that when I was growing up here."
Holly abandoned all pretense of organizing and moved to her front window, her patchwork skirt swishing against the ancient floorboards. "Weather's peculiar today. The kind where unexpected things tend to happen." She adjusted her glasses and studied the sky. "Though in my experience, winter has its own wisdom about bringing people to where they need to be." Her smile had a mysterious edge.
A sudden yelp from outside punctuated her comment, followed by a loud "Whoa!" that could only belong to Noel North.
I spotted Holly's barely suppressed grin as we rushed to the door. Noel lay in an almost-perfect snow angel formation, his father's iconic red coat spread around him like wings. A group of caroling children across the street paused mid-song, their "Silent Night" hanging in the frost-sparkled air.
"My leg!" Noel declared. "I hope it's not broken since the play's coming so soon." He clutched his knee with one hand while the other somehow produced a candy cane from his coat pocket and offered it to a worried-looking little girl who'd crept closer.
Alex reached him first. "Can you move it?"
"Maybe? But carefully." Noel winced. "I was heading to rehearsal to work on the hospital children's scene. Marcus has been practicing a song to sing for Santa tonight..."
Holly and I exchanged glances.
"You're not working on anything until we get that leg checked out." Alex's protective instincts kicked into overdrive. "Ben, help me get him up?"
As we lifted Noel between us, our hands brushed beneath his coat. Alex's fingers were warm despite the winter air, steady and sure against mine. For a moment, I forgot about Noel's groaning, lost in how natural it was to work in tandem with Alex.
Holly appeared with a small crystal bottle that caught the winter light like diamonds. The liquid inside shifted colors like the aurora borealis—first pine green, then holly berry red, finally settling into a shade that matched Alex's eyes perfectly. It smelled of wintergreen, with undertones of witch hazel.
"My special Winter Wishes blend." She winked. "Very effective for helping people find their true path. Particularly around Christmas."
"I'll drive him to the clinic." Alex shifted his body to support Noel's weight better. His way of stepping in to help reminded me of how naturally he worked with the children during rehearsals—especially Marcus. "It's the least I can do since I have personal experience with that particular patch of ice."
"Such a dangerous spot." Holly shook her head. "Though sometimes a stumble is the same as a step forward."
I caught Noel trying to suppress a smile as he leaned heavily on Alex, though real worry creased his forehead. "The show's just over a week away. What terrible timing. And Marcus tonight..."
"Almost like it was meant to be," I mumbled, earning a sharp look from Holly.
"Ben." Alex's voice had a new urgency. "Would you mind looking in on rehearsal later? Someone needs to tell Jack and Charice what happened, and maybe you could work with them on that scene transition we discussed?"
The request caught me off guard. "Of course, I'll do my best. I'm not exactly qualified to give performance notes."
"You see things others miss." His free hand brushed my arm, the touch whisper-light but electric. "And you understand how pieces fit together."
Holly bustled around us with suspicious efficiency, holding out a thermos. "Special blend for the rehearsal."
"Let me guess—guaranteed to cure everything from winter sniffles to chronic bachelorhood?" I examined the thermos with exaggerated suspicion. "Should I be worried about spontaneous bursts of caroling?"
"It's only tea—a North family recipe." Her bracelets jingled like sleigh bells as she pressed the thermos into my hands. The metal was warm against my work-roughened palms. "From Great-Great-Grandmother's personal grimoire. She always said it had a knack for helping people see what their hearts already know." She adjusted her glasses. "Though I might have added extra peppermint. For clarity. And courage. And perhaps a dash of mistletoe essence..."
