Page 8 of Christmas Promises

“It’s the same,” Nolan said. “Give or take.”

“I’m closing in a few minutes, so yes, I’d love to. I’ll just text my aunt that I won’t be up until later.”

“I’m going to grab the book I wanted,” Nolan said. “Then I can hang out until you’re ready to go.”

“It won’t take long.”

He headed toward the mystery section and returned a minute later, handing her the book. Laney hustled behind the counter, her hands shaking as she rang up Nolan’s purchase. “I would have thought you for a literary guy,” Laney said. “Is this a gift? Because I can wrap it for you.”

“No, he’s one of my favorite authors. Don’t tell my students.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Laney said.

It took her a few minutes to close up the register and turn off the lights, but finally she was ready. She grabbed her coat, hat, and gloves from the back office, and soon she and Nolan were outside in the cold, dark evening. The entire town square was lit up with twinkling lights. Garland was strung around the lampposts, and every shop window had some kind of decoration to tempt shoppers inside.

“This place is like something out of a movie,” Laney said. “I’ve never been here at Christmastime.”

“It’s a special time of the year.”

The sidewalk was slippery, and she was afraid to fall despite her boots. “It’s slick tonight.”

“Here, take my arm,” Nolan said. “I won’t let you fall.”

She tucked her gloved hand into the crook of his arm. Soon, they arrived at the front entrance to the Moose. The same wooden sculpture of a life-size moose remained. Today, he wore a scarf around his neck, and lights were twisted around his antlers. “I missed this place.”

“I can’t speak for everyone, but I think this place missed you.” He winked before opening the door for her. “After you.”

She smiled at the familiar sight. He was right. It hadn’t changed much. Same dark walls and floors. More televisions over the bar perhaps but other than that, she couldn’t see much difference from the last time she’d been here, except that it was decorated for the holidays with garlands, bows, and lights.

A hostess took them to a booth in the far corner and gave them menus before heading off to serve another set of customers.

Laney quickly perused the menu and decided on the chicken potpie. No more vegetable cleanses for her.

A server came by, and they ordered a couple of beers and their meals. He’d chosen the vegetarian shepherd’s pie. Was he a vegetarian? She didn’t know this man who sat across from her, only the boy he’d once been.

“Where do we start?” Nolan asked after the server walked away.

“Aunt Edna says you teach literature at the university?”

“That’s right. My doctorate is in nineteenth-century American literature. I did my thesis on the environmental philosophy of the words of Emerson, Thoreau, and Whitman.”

“Oh my. That sounds difficult.”

He shrugged modestly. “Not really. It interested me and still does. I’m still learning myself. The kids these days are so smart.”

“I can imagine.”

“What about you? What work do you do?”

“I’m in marketing. Not nearly as noble as your profession.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “What aspect of marketing?”

Laney described her work with clients, guiding them through branding and strategic planning. “Basically, I assist small businesses creating a marketing plan and then help to execute it. I’m freelance, so I work with various clients at the same time. Or, I should say, that’s what I was doing. Like I said, I’m kind of in the middle of a big change. I just don’t know what it is I’m changing into.”

“What happened? I mean, if you feel comfortable sharing.”

“Yeah, sure.” Under the table, she touched upon the spot on her left-hand ring finger where her giant engagement ring had so recently sat. “It’s kind of a long, sad story.”

---