“No, it’s not.”
“But it can be. Christmas is a spirit. Christmas is a way of treating people.”
This was perhaps Kate’s most deeply held idea about the holiday season. Christmas was there to celebrate the birth of Christ, of course. The name said as much, but because of that, not in spite of it, Christmas had to also embody all of the goodness of humanity. Christmas wasn’t just about saying “God bless,” but about going out into the world and living that message no matter the personal cost. The only way to truly celebrate Christmas, as far as Kate was concerned, was to stand up for people and love them completely…even if they hurt her.
“Kate…” Clark trailed off and suddenly forgot how to make eye contact. His big hands must have been very interesting, considering he wouldn’t stop staring at them. “I think you’re an…” He coughed. “I think you’re an extraordinary woman.”
“What?”
“You are kind and generous to a fault, even if you were generous with my money—”
“I only spent your money on you.”
“You’re funny and beautiful and witty and you clearly care about others and—”
He went on, but she stopped listening after beautiful. He thought she was beautiful? Even she didn’t think she was beautiful. She tuned back in only after her ears stopped ringing.
“I can see what you’re trying to do. I know you’re just trying to help. It’s a very kind gesture. I just don’t want it. I have rules and standards for my life and they just don’t include Christmas. Or wasting money. So, I think it would be better if you just go on ahead to your friends’ place for Christmas. You’ll have a better time.”
Kate had only played dodgeball once in her life. This conversation reminded her of being the only person on one side while a barrage attack came from the other. He’d told her, in his stilted Mr. Darcy way, that he liked her, then immediately proceeded into why she needed to spend her holidays without him.
And he’d called her beautiful. His stream of consciousness declaration came out nervous and unfiltered. Had he even realized he called her that?
She changed the subject, if only to keep her heart from exploding with the possibilities. This time, she didn’t attack him. A sigh, heavier than any winter wind, blew out of her, releasing the anger and hurt. Clark hadn’t managed to say sorry, but he would. She believed in him. Besides, she didn’t know how to hold onto anger. It wasn’t in her character.
“You know, they’re right. I’ve never left someone alone on Christmas.”
“You probably bring them to the festival, don’t you?”
“Not always.” Kate took a chance. Clark hadn’t responded to grand acts of magic or her charming personality. All she had left was her honesty. “Once, when I was eighteen, I’d finally gotten the part of Belle. She’s Scrooge’s love interest when he’s younger. I’d always wanted to play her. She has this beautiful gown and she’s just awesome, standing up for herself and breaking up with him when he’s not good for her anymore—”
“You like her because she broke up with him?”
“It would have been easy to live with something bad. It took courage to break free and start over.”
“I see.”
He wasn’t convinced, but she pressed forward. In her opinion, he could learn a thing or two from Belle.
“Anyway, this was the only time I was going to be able to play her. I was getting too tall for the costume. I only barely fit into it that year as it was…” She sighed again. “And then Michael broke his leg in the big State Championship football game our senior year of high school. He was going to just stay home that year by himself while everyone went to the festival on Christmas Eve because his parents were working there, but…”
“No one should be alone on Christmas,” Clark finished for her.
“Yeah.”
“You gave up your big dream just for him?”
Kate scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“My big dream is playing Scrooge. But unless I start growing a beard and some other chromosomes, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“You know what I mean. You sacrificed for him.”
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
“Like you’re sacrificing for me.”
A clear delineation of thought erupted between them. Kate didn’t see it as making a sacrifice. She understood she’d made a sacrifice, but she didn’t see it that way or remember it that way. Like tonight, for example, she couldn’t imagine ever looking back on it as, “that one Christmas I let a mean guy sneer and yell at me all day.” She imagined she’d remember it as, “the year I helped save the town and the soul of a handsome but lonely man with a hidden heart of gold.” In the same way, she remembered her eighteenth Christmas as the one where she and Michael played Go Fish until midnight and watched The Muppet Christmas Carol on repeat until four in the morning when they both fell asleep on the couch. She woke up with swollen feet because she’d slept in her shoes. She remembered laughing until her sides hurt and eating so much frozen pizza covered in turkey she almost threw up.
Instead of letting him in on this secret, she chose instead to tease him. She liked teasing him. The tops of his ears always turned bright red, a fact that tickled her and made her wonder how many people in his life ever had the guts to make jokes at his expense.
“It’s not the same thing.”
“Why not?” He furrowed his brow.
“Because I actually sort of like Michael.” She shrugged. “Jury’s still out on you.”
“You don’t like me?”
Kate didn’t think of herself as a vengeful person, but she internally cheered at the hurt in his voice. It lasted only for a moment before she thoroughly hated herself for it. He’d hurt her when he said he didn’t care about her. Part of her wanted him to hurt, however horrible that desire was.
“Have you done anything to make me like
