"ALL DONE," Nat said, as she placed the last ornament on the tree and climbed down the stepladder.
"It looks beautiful," Marisol said.
"Do you really think so?" Nat asked, staring at the tree doubtfully. "Don't you think it looks a little...shabby?"
Maybe shabby wasn't the right word, but it definitely wasn't chic.
The ornaments were different kinds of toys. Some were vintage, like rag dolls and teddy bears and gingerbread men, and some were modern, like the Scooby-Doo and Peanuts plastic figures. They all looked a little old and worn.
The gnome ornaments didn't help. The figures were hand-painted, as Marisol ceaselessly proclaimed, and that added to the haphazard and eccentric air. It was certainly unlike any tree she had ever decorated.
"Absolutely not shabby," Marisol affirmed, hands on hips. "Just well-loved."
Nat laughed. "That, they were. Particularly the gnomes."
"The gnomes are fantastic."
Nat had never considered using her family's old ornaments in a professional assignment. Her promise to her clients was that they would get a bespoke Christmas, completely individualized, with glamorous touches and flawless execution.
She fingered one of the rag dolls. The dress was a pretty red gingham print and the eyes were still bright and shiny, but the fabric was threadbare and the yarn hair was decidedly much the worse for wear.
This was not glamorous.
But at least it was perfectly executed.
The tree looked lovely with twinkling lights and a big, if somewhat banged up, brass star on top. Noah had given her a basket full of Northstar Farm pinecone ornaments and they gave the decor a rustic feel, which went well with the house's log-cabin theme. The ribbons were mismatched, but they were all in shades of Yule-appropriate red and green, and the effect was charming and homespun.
At least she hoped.
"It actually looks good," Nat declared.
"Of course it does," Marisol replied. "I like what you did with the chandeliers. It looks very natural."
"It should," Nat sighed. "It's just evergreen branches with a bit of ribbon."
But her mom was right. The house was a showcase, with its tall windows and log cabin decor. The pared-down decorations gave it a homey air. It wasn't quite the red-and-green extravaganza she usually created for her clients, but it was, in a way, nicer. It looked like a real Christmas.
"Noah put the empty boxes in my truck and he's taking away all the trash," Nat said. "So we just need to get the—"
The doorbell rang.
"Food," she finished.
"We're here," Zoe shouted, pushing open the front door.
"And we have goodies," Jecca noted, following her.
They were both carrying aluminum food carriers. Zoe's face lit up with a smile as she crossed the foyer.
"This is glorious," she said. "You've outdone yourself this time."
"It's so pretty," Jecca said. "Are these their ornaments?"
"No," Nat confessed. "They're actually Mom's."
"It all looks very...authentic," Jecca said. "It's lovely."
Nat frowned. "That sounded like a meaningful pause. Do you think my Christmases look fake?"
Jecca shook her head, brows raised as she stepped closer to examine the toys on the tree. "Not at all. Just the opposite, as a matter of fact. You tend to get a little theatrical at times. You like your over-the-top drama. I like this. It's subtle and cozy. It's what a real family would get."
"I don't go for drama," Nat protested, feeling slightly offended. "I just want things to...well, pop."
"Honey, that's drama," Jecca said kindly. "I'm glad you reined yourself in this time. They're going to love it."
"Where do we put the food?" Zoe asked, moving things along.
"In the catering fridge in the kitchen," Nat muttered.
"Shall we help you unload?" Marisol asked.
"Thanks," Zoe said as she headed for the kitchen. "I have to be at Joy's in thirty minutes to pick up dinner."
"You're still eating Chinese on Christmas Eve?" Marisol asked, putting on her coat.
"I cook turkey and stuffing every day, Marisol," Zoe answered. "I need a break."
Nat laughed and headed out the door. In a couple of minutes, the four women brought in all the food and placed it in the fridge and pantry.
"I see you got the cookie ingredients squared away," Jecca said. "The kids will like that."
"I hope so," Nat said, scanning the trays to make sure everything was in order.
"French toast casserole for breakfast." Zoe checked off the trays. "All they have to do is stick it in the oven. No one can mess that up." She moved on to the next one. "You also have fruit bowls and assorted breads and pastries with cinnamon butter."
"Peppermint kringle?" Nat asked.
"Of course," Jecca scoffed. "It wouldn't be a Holiday Lake Christmas without it."
"Turkey dinner?" Nat asked.
"With the works," Zoe replied. "Who do you think you're dealing with here? I even brought the little sausage appetizers."
"Great. And dessert?" Nat asked Jecca.
"You betcha. One Check the Halls red-velvet-and-vanilla checkerboard cake with holiday decorations, and my Christmas cupcakes," Jecca replied. "One dessert for adults and one for kids."
"That's good," Nat nodded. "Did you pick the toy decorations like I asked you to?"
"Yes, I—" Jecca paused and looked around. "Oh, good heavens, Nat. Did you match the cupcakes to your decorations too? You are something else, girl."
"Like I said, it's the little details that set me apart from the competition."
Jecca rolled her eyes. "Well, don't freak out, but I think my dolls have burgundy dresses, not crimson." She glanced back at the living room. "And you should've asked me for gnomes. I make killer sugar gnomes."
Nat bit her lip, trying not to smile. "I can be flexible about the doll dresses," she replied, "even though burgundy and crimson are absolutely two different colors. And the gnomes were a last-minute addition."
Marisol laughed, the sound tinged with a note of triumph.
"I finished cleaning up," Noah said, walking into the kitchen, still wearing his Carthartt jacket and gloves. "Are we done?"
"Yes," Zoe said, handing over a few sheets to Nat. "These are my receipts."
"And mine," said Jecca, producing a near identical sheaf of paper.
"Ditto," Noah said, producing a colorful paper cylinder from inside his jacket.
"Fantastic." Nat replied, signing on the appropriate lines. "I guess we're done then."
"Good," Noah said, grabbing his receipts. "I have to go...uh...pick up something."
Nat raised a brow and all four women stared at him as he backed out of the kitchen.
"Uff da. Really?" Jecca asked.
Nat smiled and nodded. "Something... or someone."
Was he blushing? Oh, my, he was.
Marisol leaned toward Nat. "What am I missing?" she whispered.
"I'll explain later," Nat whispered back.
"I just need to pick up some Chinese food," he explained. "For a friend."
"A friend, eh?" Jecca said, collecting her paperwork.
"Yeah," Noah affirmed. "And I'm running a little late, so I'll see you later."
He stalked out of the room, unleashing a storm of gossip in his wake.
"He's picking up food for his girl," Jecca said with relish.
Nat frowned. "But Cyrus said that they would be picking up the food."
Her comment was greeted by silence.
"Cyrus?" Jecca asked.
"Mr. Blackstone," Nat corrected quickly. "And don't you start with me, missy. Focus on Noah."
"I'm multitasking," Jecca replied with a mischievous smile. "So, what are you doing for Christmas Eve dinner?"
Nat and Marisol exchanged glances.
"I didn't—" Marisol started.
"I was busy—" Nat said.
Then they both laughed.
"I guess we're having Chinese food," Marisol said.
"Mom," Nat exclaimed.
"I'm not missing this," Marisol said. "Noah is...he's like family. And Joel has been so worried...Let's leave it at that."
Actually, Nat didn't want to leave it there, but she didn't say anything. Her mother would talk when she was ready.
"Chinese it is then," Nat conceded.
So, Marisol still felt maternal towards her boyfriend's son. That was something.
"Gotta support the local entrepreneurs," Zoe agreed.
"You mean you have to support your Christmas egg-roll addiction," Jecca countered.
"Oh, stop," Zoe said, stuffing her receipts into her purse. "Let's go before my dinner gets cold."
"I'll meet you there," Nat said. "I have to do one more walkthrough and pick up something on the way."
"You're such a perfectionist, Nat," Zoe said, leading the group back to the foyer. "Hurry, or you won't get any egg rolls."
They left in a flurry of scarves and hats, and Nat was left alone in the house.
She dimmed the chandeliers and pot lights, allowing the sparkling tree lights to take center stage, then fluffed the holiday pillows.
She turned on the music system and programmed a playlist of child-friendly Christmas songs, like I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas and the Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown soundtrack.
Then she stood in the foyer and examined her work.
This was it—the first impression. The moment when her clients entered the house invariably determined how they felt about her choices. It didn't matter if the ribbons were perfect, the food was Michelin-star quality, or the tree was a hard-to-find Norwegian spruce strain, the first look was everything.
It had to generate a feeling, an emotion. It had to stir the senses and warm the heart. It had to feel like a cozy fire after a long walk in the snow, or a cheerful lantern waiting for you on the porch.
It had to feel like Christmas.
And she was a little nervous about this one. Nothing about this job had gone right. The tree was a last-minute find. The ornaments were mismatched. The ribbons were three different shades of red—three! And now that the wreaths and garlands were hung, she was painfully aware of the fact that there were two different types of bulbs.
Everything was uncoordinated, but somehow, it worked. From the colorful toys on the Christmas tree, to the vintage lights and the simple evergreens on the chandeliers, to Jecca's cupcakes, which didn't quite match, but were close enough.
Zoe and Jecca were correct; sometimes her decorations were a bit too, well, perfect. Too glitzy or modern or twee.
This time, they looked right.
This time, it felt like a real Christmas.
And she hoped Cyrus Blackstone would appreciate that.