Page 11 of Magic in Mistletoe
Sadie finished quickly and found Martin leaning on the counter once more. She stood on the other side, studying the steam escaping from the small hole in the latte lid, feeling its warmth against her cheeks. Martin’s expression exuded patience, as if he expected her to speak.
“Being a single father must be tough,” she said, breaking the silence as she traced the rim of the cup with her thumb. “Especially when you’re also running a business.”
“Indeed,” Martin replied. “Between juggling work and taking care of my daughter, it can be quite overwhelming.” He paused, glancing out the window at the flurry of snowflakes swirling outside. “But, somehow, we manage.”
She could feel the heaviness of his words, the weight that responsibility laid upon his broad shoulders. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”
“I do, yes, but I have a large family and am close to my employees at the toy store, so there are always people around to help. You know what they say, it takes a village and all that.” Martin chuckled, but Sadie noted a touch of sadness behind his laughter. “We lost my wife when Nora was only two.” He shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching downward. “Since then, it’s been difficult trying to balance it all.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sadie said, taking a sip of coffee. Memories of her own childhood now stirred within. Before she could stop herself, she said, “I remember my dad working long hours, struggling to keep our family afloat after Mom left.”
Martin’s eyes melted into pools of compassion. “I’m truly sorry, Sadie,” he whispered, reaching out, placing his rugged hand on her arm, and giving her a reassuring squeeze.
Whether it was her earlier rumination about her grandmother or the way his charming smile broke through her defenses, she couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that a cascade of raw emotion burst forth, like a river unleashed from its bounds. “That’s why I can’t buy into this whole facade of Christmas joy. It feels so hollow. As if your troubles disappear simply because it’s Christmas. My mom left us shortly after Christmas when I was ten. But we spent the holidays as if everything was fine. She pretended the entire time. Smiling. Laughing. We made plans for the rest of the holidays. But she was gone before New Year’s Eve. And it felt like our family had been nothing but an illusion.”
Tears streamed down her face as she drew a shaky breath. More than anything, she wanted to stop talking, yet the pain and betrayal within her clamored for freedom, demanding to be heard. And there, amidst the storm of her emotions, stood Martin, a beacon of patience, his presence obliterating any hope she had of stopping.
“A few years ago, my father passed away from cancer. They discovered it way too late, and he had little time. Instead of telling me immediately, he waited until after Christmas, not wanting to spoil the holidays. But the deception made it worse. I would have spent more time with him instead of spending it with my friends.” Friends who had let her down when she needed them most.
With that memory, the hurt dissolved, and anger took its place, flooding her thoughts with images of last Christmas. “And then there was...” She stopped. Unable to say his name, but more than capable of remembering the shock of finding him with another woman. Worse than that discovery, was that she didn’t face it alone. The reality show camera crew had been on her heels and had captured everything.
Overwhelmed with embarrassment, she suddenly realized she stood in the middle of the store. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, distressed. “Talking about the single dad situation must have triggered this. I don’t usually unravel like this.” She spoke the truth. It was uncommon, but the last time had been very, very public. “You probably wish you’d never brought me that coffee now, huh?”
“Not at all,” Martin said, then took a step toward Sadie and wrapped her in a hug.
At first she stiffened, still embarrassed about her breakdown, but then as the seconds passed, she found comfort in his embrace. The heat of his body, the beating of his heart, the way his beard scratched the top of her head, the way he held her, simply to comfort. She read no judgment in any of his actions, and that nearly made her cry anew.
“Sometimes talking to a stranger is easier than those closest to us,” Martin said.
Sadie nodded against his chest. “I have a lot of baggage.”
“Well, is it any lighter now? You emptied some of those bags all over the floor.”
Giving him a small laugh, Sadie reluctantly withdrew from his embrace. “A bit, maybe. Yes. Thanks.”
“I have an idea,” he said. “Something that might make you feel better.”
“I don’t know,” she said as her walls that had crumbled began to rebuild.
“Trust me,” he said, passing Sadie her coat, then extending his hand.
She hesitated, but at that moment, as they stood amidst the sweet scents of the candy store, their connection felt both tangible and powerful—so Sadie pulled on her parka, reached out, and took his hand.
Chapter 7
Sadieenteredthebrisknight air, her fingers interlaced tightly with Martin’s. As they rounded the corner beside her quaint little shop, the enchanting sight that lay ahead rendered her speechless. There, nestled between the shadows and bathed in the silvery glow of the moon, was a magnificent sleigh, its intricate carvings and polished woodwork reflecting the celestial light. It was the kind of sleigh she had read about in fiction and imagined in dreams.
Before it stood a majestic reindeer, its coat glossy and deep brown, muscles flexing with every subtle movement. The reindeer’s impressive antlers, which seemed to stretch towards the starry heavens, were dusted with frost, making them sparkle. With every gentle exhale, it released puffs of breath that crystallized immediately, creating tiny, fleeting clouds.
Sadie, voice quivering, asked, “Is this a dream?”
“As real as the dreams that keep joy alive. Climb aboard,” Martin said, his eyes reflecting the depth of the starry night.
“No, seriously. What kind of toymaker travels in a reindeer-drawn sleigh?”
“An environmentally friendly one. And it’s an elk. Not a reindeer.”
“Right. Of course,” Sadie replied. Her tone dripped with sarcasm. “So, this is how you get around?”
