Page 1 of Joy to Noel
Prologue
Madison
Ilike Christmas a normal amount.
I have nostalgic childhood memories of celebrating with my family. I enjoy watching Christmas movies each year. I own an average quantity of decorations that I put up while listening to Christmas music every November.
You know, anormalamount of fond feelings for the holiday.
My best friend is an entirely different story.
Clara has enough Christmas spirit to single-handedly power Santa’s sleigh. The creators of Buddy the Elf probably shadowed her for character inspiration.
Case in point—last year, Clara’s Christmas spirit saved a whole town. Like something out of a Christmas movie, she rallied a dying town to create a Christmas festival worthy of its Yuletide name. Well, the town’s Yuletide alter ego, considering that Noel isn’t actually pronouncedNo-el. It’s technically pronouncedNole, rhymes with hole. But Clara convinced the grumpy mayor (who descended from the town’s founding father) to embrace the Christmas connection. Together, they saved the town of Noel, Arkansas from its path toward extinction. Of course, Clara and Clark fell in love in the process. One year later, they’re now getting married during the very same festival.
See? Like something out of a Christmas movie.
Or, should I say, like somethingintoa Christmas movie—considering Clara adapted her real-life experience into a movie script being produced by the Heartmark Channel this year. Her holiday spiritlaunched the inspiration for her lifelong career dream and led her to the love of her life.
I’ve spent all of Thanksgiving week here in Noel helping Clara put finishing touches on the festival decorations that will double as wedding decor. Practically everyone in the small town has pitched in, and many will be at the wedding tonight.
“Mads, do I look okay?” Clara asks. “Not just okay—do I look perfect? I need Madison Wheeler honesty. Don’t spare my feelings.”
“When am I ever not honest?” I reply, making Clara smile. “You are the epitome of perfection. Hottie McScrooge is going to swallow his tongue when he sees you.”
Clara laughs at my old nickname for Clark, her soon-to-be husband. When Clara first purchased her cozy cabin in Noel to use as a writing retreat, she met Clark through a serendipitous mishap. Their spark of attraction was nearly snuffed out when Clara discovered that Clark was her opposite in a lot of ways—including his general dislike for the holiday season. He earned that “McScrooge” nickname fair and square, although he’s really come around since then. Clara has a way of bringing out the best in people.
And she really does look perfect today. Her strawberry-blonde curls are swept into an effortless updo, subtle makeup brings out the blue of her eyes without covering up the freckles spread across her cheeks, and her wedding dress is exquisite. The cream bodice is simple and strapless, and the full skirt with endless layers of tulle ends just above her ankles, perfect for an outdoor wedding.
Clara nearly dripped runny mascara on the sample dress when she tried this one on at the bridal boutique. The tulle is the perfect homage to Clara’s late Aunt Gloria, a professional ballerina who never had any children and had doted on Clara just as much as her parents. It was the inheritance money gifted by Aunt Gloria that enabled Clara to buy her writing cabin in the woods.
We’ve been getting wedding-ready all day, along with her other bridesmaid, Sydney. Clara had a playlist of Christmas love songs on loop, and I’ve had to stop her from getting teary-eyed more than once. Thankfully, her makeup has stayed intact, and she truly is a vision.
“I’ll go make sure that Clark is ready for the first look,” Sydney says to Clara. Syd is a Noel local, married to Clark’s best friend, Davis. She’s Clara’s closest friend here, though I will forever maintain best-friend status. Unfortunately, I still live in Kansas City, while Clara moved to her cabin in Noel full time earlier this year. It was a tough pill to swallow, considering that she was my boss as well as my best friend, but she’s living her dream come true.
As Syd leaves the room, Clara turns to me and smooths an errant strand of hair I didn’t know was sticking up. I’d opted to pull my long, brown hair into a sleek ponytail instead of a more elegant updo. Clara stands a solid five inches taller than my 5’3” stature, allowing her to see the top of my head better than I can in the mirror.
“Thanks,” I tell her. “You ready for this?”
Clara’s eyes mist over. “So ready. Thanks for being by my side today.”
“Everyday,” I emphasize. “But you are not supposed to be crying before you even see Clark. Stop being sentimental!” I wave air at Clara’s eyes as she laughs, and we’re interrupted by Syd and Davis coming in to give us the go-ahead.
The ceremony will take place at the pavilion in the center of the festival grounds, but Clara wanted their first look to be in Mistletoe Lane, an alley off Main Street that’s decorated with sprigs of mistletoe hung from crisscrossing strands of lights overhead. It’s the place where Clara first confessed her feelings for Clark a year ago, even though it took him a couple extra weeks to admit his own.
Sydney, Davis, and I accompany Clara on the short walk from the town hall to the first look location. Clark’s other childhood friend and groomsman, Beau, waits for us at the entrance to Mistletoe Lane. Clark stands at the other end, back turned away from us. I give Clara’s dress a final floofing, then nod to the photographer that she’s ready. The four of us in the wedding party hang back a respectful distance, wanting to give Clark and Clara a modicum of privacy (but also, we’re the intrusive type of friends).
Initially, it took some convincing for me to get on board with Clara’s feelings for Clark. When she first discovered that he was the mayor of Noel and was obstinately opposed to hosting a Christmas festival, his borderline rude behavior toward her put his name on my naughty list.But he slowly won me over as he revealed his inner softie behind that stoic exterior—a soft side that’s now openly on display. He wipes tears from his eyes as he watches Clara walking toward him. Her back is to me, but I’d bet all my money that Clara is crying her way to him.
I smile as I watch Clark take her hands and twirl Clara around before pulling her in for a kiss. Clark’s gain may come at my loss, but I could never wish anything but happiness for them.
Kicking off my shoes at the door, I walk across the room and flop down on the bed inside the tiny cabin, exhausted. The lights of the small Christmas tree in the corner provide adequate illumination without turning on the overhead light. The exposed wooden beams of the ceiling give a log cabin vibe, but the whitewashed shiplap walls keep the space fresh and airy.
These cabins on the outskirts of Noel are primarily used by tourists during the summer for the river floating season, but they become mini Christmas oases for people to rent during Christmas Fest. There are two rows of A-line cabins of varying sizes with a gravel drive through the middle, dotted with fire pits.
Noel is averysmall town nestled in the woods along the Elk River in Northwest Arkansas. The residents here are some of the kindest, most down-to-earth people I’ve ever met. I might be the slightest bit biased, considering how the town welcomed Clara into the fold as one of their own. Next year, Christmas Fest will begin the day after Thanksgiving, but the entire town voted to delay the kickoff this year so that Clark and Clara could have the magical wedding of her dreams.
It was a perfect celebration of love and Christmas—just what Clara wanted. A casual dinner followed the ceremony, giving the newlyweds the chance to mingle with guests before they ducked out at eight o’clock. I’m not sure if the early curfew was the result of their eagerness to be alone on their wedding night or Clark’s general aversion to large crowds. Likely a combination.
