Page 47 of The Naughty Or Nice Clause

“I thought there was a light festival?” she coaxed.

“There is, but lord knows how long this is going to go on before the displays begin,” he muttered, pulling up the collar on his jacket as people in the crowd started to stare at them. “If we don’t stay, I can take you to have the best gingerbread you’ve ever had. It’ll ruin you for any other for the rest of your life,” he whispered.

“As tempting as baked goods are, I’m sure your family would want you to stand with them. For you to have some closure,” she reasoned, slowly guiding him towards the crowd. He didn’t fight her this time, merely gave in with a sigh.

The villagers were quick to let them through so they could stand with the others. Mrs Klaus gave them a sympathetic look, standing before the decorated tree that towered above the village. Mason placed an arm around his brother and whispered something that made Kevin chuckle. Lyla let him go, knowing he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Who said you could let go?” Mason whispered, taking her hand in his.

She gripped his hand tighter for reassurance as she noticed the tears in his eyes.

One by one, people in the crowd recounted their memories about the late Henry Klaus. Ian stood on the candlelit podium, a sad smile creasing his features as he spoke.

“Henry was the only man I knew who could sleep standing up. There was more than one occasion when we would be talking away, then my words would go unanswered, and he would be standing there, List in hand, eyes closed. Maybe I bored him into slumber – but more likely he’d spent the week in the workshop and neglected to sleep, to eat. If it wasn’t for our own Mrs Klaus, Henry probably would have forgotten to take care of himself. He was brutally honest, and never minced his words, but he believed in us, in our yearly mission. He believed that bringing some luck, some magic to the world was more important than any of us. He put his heart and soul into Yule, and though he would hate us all doting on his memory, he’d never have turned down an opportunity to gather everyone together for a celebration.”

Lyla wondered if the Klaus family would speak, but they remained in the crowd, listening with sad smiles and laughs as jokes were told and stories of past Christmases were looked back on. Mason’s grip grew tighter until finally the vigil ended with a series of glorious fireworks lighting up the sky, and even then, he didn’t let her go.

“Hot whiskey?” Lou offered, balancing the tray on her lap.

Lyla took it and placed it on the table. The pub was crowded and stifling, but the laughter and music were comforting. There was no talk of business or contracts, only old stories and idle chit-chat that no one would remember tomorrow thanks to the generous measures of alcohol.

“I don’t think she should have another,” Mason said, nudging Lyla, who already had a warm glow in her cheeks after one too many eggnogs.

“I’dloveone,” Lyla said, silencing Mason with a finger to his lips.

“It’s your hangover. The eggnog is lethal by itself,” he warned.

Kevin called him to play darts, and he got up. Lyla was pleased to see them talking.

“I think you brought back a clone of my brother. I never thought he would come to the vigil,” Lou commented.

“I was thinking the same thing! I’m glad you didn’t listen to me about the letter,” Sara said, sitting between Lou and Lyla.

She was in silver overalls, and her cropped hair was clipped away from her petite features. Lyla had been delighted to finally be able to put a face to the name when Lou had introduced them on the way to the pub.

“You didn’t want her to send the letter?” Lyla asked, remembering first-hand what had happened as a result.

Sara explained before Lou could interrupt, “I wanted her to contact him earlier – it had been so long. I knew it hurt her when he couldn’t come to our wedding.” Lyla looked to Lou and saw her disappointment at the memory. “Mrs Klaus thought it might cause a scene if he came.” Sara winced. It was disheartening to know that Mason had missed out on his sister’s wedding because of the fight with his father, and that Mrs Klaus had been the one to suggest he keep away.

“That sounds awful – it was more that Mum didn’t want our day to become another battlefield. I did reach out, and Mason still sent a present and a card, but then it was back to nothing,” Lou chimed in.

“I wish we had invited him; they could have put the fight behind them.”

“Mason wouldn’t have come unless it was Dad who wrote, and he was too stubborn to be the first to reach out,” Lou said, and everyone at the table fell into a short silence.

“He’s here now, and that’s what matters,” Sara said at last, and Lou looked at her brothers.

“I only hope he wants to be – we need him. Not just for the season; I don’t want him to disappear again. I think it would hurt Kevin too.”

“I don’t think that will happen,” Lyla found herself saying, even if she knew that she would be the one to disappear. “He wanted to be here – he just needed permission to be.”

Lou lifted her glass to her, and Lyla took a healthy gulp, comforted by the rush of warmth in her veins.

“Doyouknow his decision?” Lou asked.

“To become a Klaus? I don’t know– he won’t talk about it. Am I getting the title wrong? The title is Klaus, right? Not Santa Claus?” she asked, full of alcohol confidence. She was so used to calling Mason ‘Klaus’ that it was strange to think she had unknowingly been calling him by his formal title.Maybe calling him Klaus only furthered the hostility between us? I was inadvertently reminding him of home.

“Santa Claus is one of the names, but here in Yule, it’s Klaus.”

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