“Are they everything you dreamed of?” he asked as I shoveled a handful of nuts into my mouth.
We’d stopped so I could look at some hand-painted souvenir ornaments with Christmas Notch landmarks on them.
“Try some,” I told him as I held the cone out for him. “Oh wait, you’re not allergic to nuts, are you?”
He shook his head. “No, but now I’m wishing I’d thought of that excuse.” Peering inside the cone, he selectively took a few nuts. “Almonds are God’s mistake,” he clarified.
“So what was the deal with Matt? You have to tell me if I’m going to find you the right muse.”
He leaned over and studied a rectangle ceramic ornament painted to look like a letter to Santa. “He wouldn’t stop talking about CrossFit.”
“That’s it?” I asked. “That was your third-degree sunburn?”
“Everyone knows CrossFit is a cult.”
“Amen,” said the older woman behind the booth. Her huge graying auburn curls sprung out from beneath her olive green beanie and her cheeks were rosy from the cold. “My son-in-law won’t shut up about it.”
“See,” he said. “She knows!”
“I’ll admit,” I said to both of them, “that is not the height of attraction, but maybe he was just nervous and needed something to fill the silence.”
“Who are you trying to match here?” he asked. “Me or CrossFit Matt?”
The woman behind the counter nodded. “I can see I’m outnumbered,” I told them. “But duly noted. No CrossFit.”
I popped a handful of nuts in my mouth and picked up an ornament that caught my eye. It was a slice of tree stump with Isaac’s mansion hand-painted on the front. The place might belong to him now, but it would always be a Christmas Notch staple. Isaac needed this shit on his Christmas tree. Well, first he needed a Christmas tree to put shit on, but I’d have to take care of that later.
I handed the ornament to the woman.
“Anything else for you, dear?” she asked.
I peered over the table as I took inventory of her backstock. “Not unless you have any commemorative North Pole ornaments hiding away back there?”
She snorted. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
I paid and we set off back into the crowd. “Here,” I said, handing Isaac the little brown paper bag. “A housewarming gift.”
He gave me a puzzled look. “I don’t think I’ve ever owned an ornament.”
My jaw dropped. “I know you’re out of touch, but Isaac Kelly, are you serious?”
He slid the small bag into the interior pocket of his peacoat and then held his arm out for me again. The crowd had begun to thin, and I felt him ease a little beside me.
I linked my free arm with his, the multicolored string lights hanging low over our heads as they zigzagged over the market.
“My team usually hired someone to do curated holiday decorations, and that was if I was even home in the month of December. I’ve never really liked owning things. Especially after Brooklyn. Things just feel like a tether, I guess.”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to repossess that ornament,” I told him. “Wouldn’t want you to have too manythingstotetheryou down.”
“No,” he said as he held a protective hand over his chest where his pocket was. “It’s mine now. I might not want many things, but when I decide to keep something, I never give it up.” He took another few nuts from my cone and then tossed them into his mouth one at a time.
I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t. But for a brief moment, I let my head rest against his shoulder and wondered what it might feel like to be kept forever by Isaac Kelly.
I was torn between wanting to soak in this moment and also needing to race home and write it all down, because even though I might not have any more answers to my Christmas miracle mystery, this felt as close to Christmas magic as I’d ever come.
At the end of the narrow row of vendors sat a small vintage photo booth lit up with round lightbulbs that spelled outphoto. I snapped my head up and sped off toward it. All my life, I’d had a deep obsession with vintage photo booths. None of that digital bullshit. Cash only. Real-ass film. I begged my parents to put one in our media room when I was a teenager, but my dad couldn’t be sold on the upkeep. To this day, it’s the one thing I’d splurge on and buy if I could.
“Where are you going?” Isaac called after me.
