Locals artists had their work on display. Holiday paintings and handmade dolls of Santa, his wife, and the elves. One lady had a bunch of glass pieces that I knew Jessie would love. I got her a glass apple for her desk, since she was a teacher. I also got her a cute little cat holding a cocktail.
Luke looked grumpy when I finished up with the glass seller’s booth. “You should have looked around more first.”
“What? Why?” I asked, frowning.
“We just got here and you already bought something,” he said. “But how do you know if that vendor had the best stuff? You haven’t seen the rest of it.”
“I don’t need to see it all first,” I said, continuing to walk down the row of sellers. “Those pieces spoke to me, and I went for it.”
He shrugged like he still disagreed. “You don’t even know if you got a good price for those. Maybe shop around and compare a little.”
“Well, these are handmade and one-of-a-kind, so there’s no way to compare prices.” I turned to look at him. “Why don’t you look around for something for yourself? Your apartment needs some damn Christmas spirit.”
“My apartment is fine,” he said, though he seemed amused by my criticism. “And I don’t need anything.”
“Okay, then what about something for your family? Your mother at least. I know she would love a handmade gift. It’s more special than some junk you can order online, and it shows you put some thought and effort into it.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Yeah, I’m full of good ideas,” I said. “If only people would listen.”
“I’m listening,” he said, laughing. “But I might need your help picking something out. I’m terrible at gift giving. I’m too practical. I like giving people things they can use.”
“Luke Whitaker, please tell me you’ve never given your mother a vacuum for Christmas.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepish. “Not a vacuum.”
“What then?” I asked.
“Now I don’t want to tell you,” he replied.
“Nope, you have to now.”
He sighed. “Pots and pans, okay? That one year I got her a set of pots and pans. But in my defense they were really nice and she said she loved them. And she still uses them.”
I smiled at that. “Okay, that’s borderline, but if she loves to cook, I guess that’s not bad. One year for Christmas, my father bought my mother a mop, and I thought she was going to beat him with it.”
Luke laughed with me at that. “Okay, even I know that’s a bad gift.”
“I saw some handmade scarves other there.” I pointed to the booth draped in colorful fabric. “I bet your mother would like one of those.”
“Lead the way, my little Christmas elf.”
So he did remember the Christmas Spectacular in high school. That night was stamped into my memory permanently. I had already been in love with theater back then but that performance was the moment things clicked and I knew I wanted to do it forever.
The role of the Spirit of Christmas was stolen from me by Luke’s evil ex, which had made me almost quit the production. Mrs. Fletcher, who was still teaching, had convinced me to stay by offering me something better than the big song in the finale. She made me the stage manager.
I organized everything and made sure it ran like clockwork. More importantly, I also designed the sets for the play. I ended up loving that role more than anything I’d done in front of the curtain.
I wanted Luke to know I remembered our play together too. “Follow me, Santa.”
Did his cheeks go pink when I called him that or was it from the cold?
We walked around the rows of booths. He bought a pretty purple scarf for his mother. For his father, he found a ceramic bull and the vendor paintedWhitaker Ranchon the side to personalize it. I found a few things for my parents and Nic, too. Luke was a gentleman and carried all the bags, which freed my hands up to buy us a couple of warm ciders.
We walked and sipped and I felt alive. The day was gray but it just made the lights around us more beautiful.
“I have a Christmas joke,” Luke said. “But it’s dumb.”
