Page 82 of Joy to Noel
“Great stuff there, Liam. Everyone at Pure Fur All is happy with the developments. And everyone at Holden is happy with the projected profitability of this new line. Well done,” he says, and I can’t help butstand a little straighter. As confident as I am in my own capabilities, it always feels good to have solid work recognized.
“Thanks, Cal. It really was a team effort here. And I do want to have a serious conversation about promoting Beau Olson to the plant manager position. I think he’s proved that he could hack it,” I say.
“Good—the sooner we can finally get you out of there and on to the next job, the better. The messes have been piling up with you being out for so long,” Cal says.
Phone still to my ear, I swing my office door closed and start pacing the length of the room. “I need to talk to you about that, Cal. I never would have expected it, but this town has grown on me. And I’ve decided I want to move here permanently.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Cal asks. The only reasonable follow-up question to my statement.
“Maybe I have,” I admit. “But it’s what I want to do. I don’t want to travel for such huge chunks of time moving forward. I think I’d like to feel like I have some roots somewhere—not be such a nomad anymore.”
“Well, I suppose I can understand that,” Cal says. “But I don’t know what to tell you, Liam. I’m not sure we have any remote positions that wouldn’t require travel. Not for your skill set. What do you expect me to do?”
Massaging my temples, I say, “I don’t know, Cal. Maybe nothing. I know you can’t magically create a new job position for me. But maybe you could give me a positive reference if I decide to pursue something new?”
“You know I would, Liam. You’ve been one of the best employees I’ve worked with. Will you at least think about this a little longer before you make the final decision? I really don’t want to lose you—I can talk with the right people and see if we can offer you a raise or a better bonus structure,” Cal says.
Even though he can’t see me, I shake my head. “It’s not about money, Cal, although I appreciate that. It’s about wanting to have a place that actually feels like home. And as much as it came as a shock, Noel feels like that place. I’ll think about it, but I want to be honest that my mind is pretty much made up.”
Cal sighs. “That shouldn’t surprise me. You’ve always been one to make decisions quickly and plow ahead. Which has served us well here at Holden. I’ll still keep my fingers crossed that you change your mind, but I’ll also give my highest recommendation to anyone who calls asking about you.”
“Thanks, Cal,” I say. “Thanks for being a good boss and pushing me to be my best. I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t get all sentimental on me,” Cal says. “Now get back to work.”
He hangs up without further comment, and I smile to myself. I pull up Madison’s name to text her.
ME
It’s official. Well, kinda official. I told my boss I want to stay here in Noel.
I know she and Clara are working with Sydney and Becky on some final diagrams of the layout for Christmas Fest, so I’m not surprised when she doesn’t answer. It’s the third week of November, so the town is transforming into a twinkly wonderland of holiday cheer. Any decorations that don’t depend on the temporary booth structures have already been hung, portable toilets have been delivered, and shipment after shipment of supplies have arrived, according to Madison’s nightly recaps.
The town truly took our innovation brainstorm to heart and added some key new elements this year. They’re going to have live reindeer on site, including two babies that families can pay to pet. They’re elevating the food options from a handful of food trucks to multiple booths serving a variety of entrées and snacks. In addition to the big musical performance on Saturday nights, there will be a stage where smaller musical artists will perform twice a day.
The additions I’m most excited about are the collectible ceramic mugs that Becky’s coffee drinks will be served in (probably because it was my suggestion based on my experience at European Christmas markets). They were specially designed with the Noel Christmas Fest logo along with the year, so they can become a collector’s item designed to lure people back annually. If anyone doesn’t want the mugkeepsake—or needs multiple rounds of coffee—they can return the mug for a two-dollar refund.
I don’t think they ordered nearly enough mugs, but what do I know?
“Wow.” It’s the only word I can say as Madison and I walk through the doors to the Deer River Bar. Ornaments, candy canes, and glittery decorations hang from every square inch of the ceiling. Multicolor Christmas lights are tacked along the booths and outline the windows. Giant statues of Santa, Rudolph, and Frosty the Snowman greet you as you walk past the host stand.
“This is what you’ve been up to the past two days, isn’t it?” I ask Madison, who smiles smugly.
“I knew that Ben would cave as soon as I laid out Clara’s vision for the pop-up bar concept,” she says. I narrow my eyes at her. “Okay, as soon as I laid out the financial projections of the increased foot traffic and publicity from tags on social media,” she amends.
We make our way to the two tables pushed together, joining Clark and Clara, Davis and Sydney, James and Becky, and Beau and Abby. As we walk, I notice that the notoriously sticky floors aren’t suctioning to my shoes. “What magic potion did you clean the floors with?” I ask Madison.
“You don’t want to know. I don’t think it was FDA-approved for commercial use,” she says, grimacing.
“I’m surprised by you, Miss Environmentally Conscious Everything,” I chide with mock disapproval.
Madison punches my arm. “You try arguing with Clara about anything related to this festival’s success.”
These Tuesday dinners have become a highlight of my week for the past few months. They’re certainly a heavy contributor to the “stay in Noel” decision. We’re carving out one final group dinner of the year before the chaos of the holidays and Christmas Fest hits next week. I’m driving to Conway to celebrate Thanksgiving with my parents,and Madison is going to Nebraska. But we’ll both be back the Friday after Thanksgiving in time for the Christmas Fest kickoff parade that evening.
“Ben is testing out his pop-up bar menu this week,” Clara says cheerfully, handing us the bright, festive menus.
I make a quick scan of the options, and Madison vocalizes my first thought. “These are all the exact same things he normally serves. They just have Christmas-movie-coded names now.” She gives Clara a sassy side eye.
