I looked around the shop again, but I didn’t see anyone watching me.
This was odd.
Then it dawned on me.
The letter I’d sent to the committee. Had they gotten it? Was this their response?
Were they going to meet me and let me know their decision?
I checked the time. It was 2:47 p.m.
I could be there in just a few minutes if I left now.
My heart rate sped as I got up from my booth, slipping my coat back on. The door to Cocoa Corner closed behind me with a soft ding. It almost matched the ding of the sleigh bell in my hand.
My heart raced even faster as I walked to the Cider Center, wondering what would happen, who would be waiting for me there.
Some old gentlemen who were part of the committee maybe? Another note? What would they say? I braced myself for disappointment, someone waiting to let me down easy, despite the hope fluttering in my chest.
I could hardly think straight, but in just a few minutes, I was there.
Cider Center and Garland Mall weren’t super busy, with just a few people milling around. Some kids ran and played near the tree as they made their way to the mall with their parents.
I glanced around, wondering who or what to look for. So far, no one seemed to be waiting for me.
I checked the time again. 2:58 p.m.
There was a large bench nearby, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sit and wait.
Instead, the star at the top of the tree caught my eye. I locked my gaze on it, going back to the moment when I’d made that wish a couple weeks ago.
I had probably asked for far too much. Now, here I stood again, heartbroken. Maybe it would be mended by the time I stood here again next year. Or maybe I should learn my lesson and not make a wish at all.
“Belle?” I heard.
I spun around at the sound of my name behind me.
The sleigh bell was still in my hand. It made a sound as I faced the person who had called my name.
My eyes went from his face to the sleigh bell in his hand in less than a second.
He held it up. It made a gentle ringing sound.
I did the same, not believing who stood in front of me.
Nick St. James smiled and took a step toward me. “I can’t believe this.”
“Nick?” I said, in shock. Nick St. James had been the boy behind the beard? The one wearing the Santa suit this whole time?
“It’s me,” he replied.
It didn’t make sense. The most popular guy in school? He was the one I’d been talking to this whole time? The one who’d kissed me? His voice was familiar, but his eyes?
His eyes said it all. They were the same sparkling blue eyes I’d gotten to know so well.
“I’m guessing the committee got my letter after all,” he said, pulling an envelope out of his jacket pocket. It looked just like the one I had in my hand.
“You wrote a letter?” I managed. “So did I.”