Charlotte’s attention switched to him. He’d gone pale, and sweat beaded around his hairline. “Here. Sit.” She pushed him into a chair and rubbed calming circles on his back. “Should I call someone?”
He shook his head. “It’s subsiding.” He drew in a couple of deep breaths. “I’ve had people take back their wishes, but that one felt like he’d uncoiled a rope in my chest. Nutcrackers!” He gathered himself.
“Stay there for a minute longer,” she admonished him. “Gosh, I wish another Kringle was here.”
No sooner had she said the words than a chill raced up her arms, and Nick sat a little taller.
“Why does Nick need cocoa?” asked Hazel as she and Robyn walked into the auditorium.
Robyn wore an apron with gingerbread men for pockets over a pair of designer jeans and a red turtleneck. “I don’t know. I just—gasp!” She rushed forward and knelt in front of Nick. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“Drink this.” She shoved the mug at him, and he took a long pull.
Charlotte stood back, observing their interactions.
Hazel came to stand beside her. “You don’t feel right.” She tipped her head, examining Charlotte. “You’re angry, and your heart hurts. Did someone break it?”
Charlotte didn’t want to talk about it. “Do people ever get mad at you for being magical?” she asked. It wasn’t like there were many people on this planet she could have this conversation with, and she wasn’t about to waste her chance to have it now with Hazel. With Micah storming out, she grabbed onto her business and Christmas–two things she knew she could count on to get her through tough times.
Hazel’s green eyes rounded. She flicked a hand. “All the time. It’s not my fault. You know? I can’t be anything except what God made me.”
Charlotte felt the truth of that statement fill her up. She loved Christmas. Always had, and trying to put out that light would be in direct defiance of the God who created her. It wasn’t fair of Micah to try and snuff that out. He might not believe, but that didn’t mean she had to stop. And she wouldn’t change who she was to make him happy.
Nick threw back the last of the cocoa and hopped to his feet. “Good as gumdrops.” He grinned, pronouncing himself cured. His color was back, and his eyes swirled with magic until they landed on her wish. He blew out a breath, making his lips raspberry. “That shouldn’t still be here.”
Charlotte poked it. “Solid as ever.” The wish bounced her shoulder to prove it.
Nick glared. It was the only time she’d ever seen a Kringle be anything but jolly. The expression was so very wrong on his face.
“What is it?” Robyn asked, her hand hovering over her purse, as if the answer to his woes would magically appear inside.
Perhaps it would. Charlotte stared at the purse. Santa had a magic sack, right? Why wouldn’t his daughter carry a magic purse? Her fingers twitched with a desire to try it out.
“I’m ready to talk to Lux,” he stated flatly as he rubbed his chest. “Christmas isn’t messing around anymore. I-I’m worried that I’ll lose my–.” He cut off as if just realizing Charlotte was still there.
She rolled her eyes. “If I haven’t earned your trust by now...”
He nodded. “I know. Old habits die hard and all that.”
Robyn touched his arm. “Are you sure? It’s a big step.”
Hazel pressed her hands together in front of her chest. “Please let me be there when you tell her.”
It was Nick’s turn to roll his eyes. “Drama queen,” he mumbled.
Hazel tossed her hair over her shoulder, and it fell into place as if she were in a shampoo commercial. The light reflected off the color just right. “I will own the title. Not because I cause drama intentionally, but because I handle drama like a queen.” She arched a perfect eyebrow, daring him to disagree.
He chuckled. “Who can argue with that?”
“Not you,” she countered.
Robyn patted them both on the shoulder, turning them toward the exit as she did so. “Let’s get Nick home so he can get this taken care of with Lux.” She stopped and faced Charlotte. “Don’t give up on Micah. We may need to regroup, but we aren’t done with this situation.”
Hazel and Nick walked up the aisle, keeping their heads close and voices low as they talked fast. Hazel punched his arm, and he rubbed the spot.
Bolstered by her Hazel-inspired confidence, Charlotte squared her shoulders. “Don’t worry about me. I need Micah about as much as Jacob Marley wanted his chains.”
